NCC - 86105
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Posted on Tue Jan 16th, 2018 @ 5:36pm by



Voyage to Mutiny
Location: USS Livingstone - Various Locations
Timeline: MD 19 - 11:32

Lieutenant JG John Warren, stood before the the large airlock doors to the USS Livingstone. A man still hurt by tragedies of battle. The memory of losing all by 6 of his crewmates, or losing the woman he loved. Haunted by the idea that maybe she was still alive, and feeling the guilt of survival, he was ready to take on Starfleet next challenge for him. This was to be only the second assignment Starfleet had given him, but being that he had more than proved his worth on the Cross, his new assignment was to have an entire squadron of fighters under his command.

His new position only added to his guilt. He would not be standing where he was now, if it were not for the loss he had endured. But still, here he was, about to enter into a new chapter of his career. A chapter he hoped would be less eventful than the last.

The doors swept open and allowed the young man to enter. “so this is home now” He thought to himself as he looked around at the well lit room, containing just a small console manned by a young woman, no older than himself.

“Welcome aboard the Livingstone” she greeted.

“Thanks,” John offered out his hand “Lieutenant John Warren” he announced.

“Pleasure to meet you Lieutenant John Warren” The young lady responded with jest in her voice. “I’m ensign Fiona O’laren”

John smirked. He knew that he himself would have likely responded the same way. “Pleasures all mine.” The grin did not vanish from his face, “perhaps we could have a drink together after duty hours?”

John was never one to hold back a invite for a drink, especially when an attractive young woman was involved. He quickly got a reply through a slightly flirtatious smile “perhaps”.

“The main mess hall, 1900 Hours.” John hurriedly said leaving through the doors onto the corridor, so not to give her chance to change her mind.

“Computer direct me to my quarters.” His order was sharp and to the point, as it often was when dealing with machines. “Please follow the illuminated displays” came the robotic answer from the computer.

After a few minutes journey, following the panels which lit up in turn as John passed them, he arrived. His quarters were much what he expected. It was very standard Star Fleet, with the usual exterior wall taken up by windows displaying a view of the stars.

He threw down a bag that he had been carrying. A bag containing all that he owned, and stood with his arms folded, gazing at the view. It was at this moment he realised that leaving the Cross was not an end to his troubles. His troubles traveled where ever his mind was.

His mind had gone back to the dark place it so often wandered. He couldn’t resist it any longer. He pulled out a pass from his bag and began a playback, standing with his back against the wall.

It was security footage downloaded from the computer core of the Cross. A young trill woman stood there on the screen. A phaser pointed toward the door of what appeared to be her quarters. The door swept open revealing two men, an andorian and a human. She fired. The Andorian fell to the floor, but before she could fire again, the human fired his own phaser.

“Harkeia” John whispers as the trill collapsed into a heap. The only man still standing walked over and threw the young lady over his shoulder. They left and the recording ended. The question that had plaques John’s mind since the first time he had watched the recording was still there. ‘Why have they taken her? Does this mean she’s still alive? He slid down the wall to the floor, and sobbed.


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