Fear Leads to Anger, Anger Leads to Hate, Hate Leads to the Dark Side

Posted on 23 Sep 2024 @ 10:10pm by Crewman Apprentice Thobius Chaluk

691 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Stranded
Location: Security Checkpoint Epsilon, Deck 6
Timeline: Concurrent with A Guiding Light

ON
Deck 6
Security Checkpoint Epsilon Control Booth


"Get.....," huge grunt. Panting. Several minutes passed by. He was afraid he would die this way. Undignified. A waste of Romulan space.

"Off of......," another huge grunt. Panting. A scrape of metal against metal. More panting. Several more minutes passed by.

"By the Gods, HELP," Thobius screamed again. He could taste blood in his mouth, his throat was so sore from screaming. He was sick and tired of being under this god-for-blessed storage locker that had landed on top of him when the ship careened out of control.

"ME!" A bellow of anger, a guttural scream from deep within, followed by a cacophony of metal smashing into duraplating.

Thobius bounded up off the ground regardless of any injuries he may have had, with the express task of kicking the ever-loving shit out of the storage locker. On his way to perform his self-assigned task, he tripped on something unseen and sprawled hard on the ground, clapping his chin on....something. Probably the very storage locker he had just heaved off himself. He felt the skin tear, and his precious life-blood trickle out from it, through the cleft in his chin and down his neck. He had no real idea what he had just tripped on, and it didn't matter. He bellowed the anger of a thousand gods. Although he was certain he was now blind (he couldn't see anything but total darkness now), he reached down and grabbed...something, and with a mighty roar, threw it as hard as he could. In an instant, he heard it crash against what he assumed was the bulkhead, the object, (whatever it was) giving a sickening - and satisfying - crunch as it exploded into a million pieces, the debris raining down all over the room control booth.

Chaluk's rage a full inferno now, he reach down again, and again, and again still, throwing item after object as far and as hard as he could, each piece shattering or crunching or cracking against the bulkhead, each time the rage from deep within escaping his throat. "You fvai piece of kach!," he screamed as he chucked the item he grasped hard. As he did so, his body spun, his shoulder checking into the bulkhead. He hadn't even realized he had moved. Turning his attention to the bulkhead, he swung at the wall, connecting it with all of his might, enough force that would easily crush a dhr'rudh human or ryak'na Klingon chest cavity. His rage had graduated to pure, unadulterated hatred. He didn't even register the blow to the wall had shattered the bones his fist. He swung again, and again. "You Faelirh ch'susse-thrai! he bellowed, as he hit the wall again and again.

He stepped back half a step as the pain in his fists began to seep into his consciousness, leaned forward and front-kicked the wall as hard as he could. "And your forsaken mother is a Amtonæ wi-kha nvaihr!" His foot connected as sure as he had meant it. He hated this ship. He hated Starfleet and what he had become as a lackey of both Starfleet and the Federation, and he hated that Romulus, his home, was gone, forever. He felt more than he heard or saw that the metal buckled under his force, but the joy was short-lived, the rebounding force knocking him backwards. His heel caught something, causing him to cartwheel head over foot backwards, coming to rest on the deck, more or less, where he had started under the storage cabinet, his mushed fists curled to his chest, his chest rising and falling with each deep gasp of breath he took, his knee hurting, either from the cartwheeling, or the force reverberation it absorbed when he kicked the wall.

Whimpering softly, he rolled over on his side, letting the darkness envelop him completely.

What he didn't know as unconsciousness completely enveloped him was that all the commotion he was causing caught the attention of a rather particular Bolian Ensign looking for survivors.


OFF
Crewman Thobius Chaluk
Master-at-Arms
USS Cygnus

 

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