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Round 13 Lt Commander Ben Walker - Moving On


Kali Nicholotti

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((SB118, Sickbay))

Walker: No! You don't understand!

::MacLaren managed to grab him before he fell to the floor. She managed to push him toward the biobed. Wrapping one of his arms around her neck, she struggled to deal with the nearly dead weight of a strong man, she kept repeating the same words::

MacLaren: Commander, can ye hear me? Commander, you are not alone. You are not alone with it. Don't look at it; rest your mind.

::She administered the same sedative that had worked well on Dubeau.::

MacLaren: Sleep now, Commander.

:: He understood the order. There seemed to be something he remembered about not wanting to do it, but couldn't attach any significance. His voice came out clear but untainted by emotion. ::

Walker: As you wish doctor.

:: He moved to the biobed and immediately fell asleep. ::

((Holodeck))

:: As the scene ended, the yellow and black of the holodeck appeared around him, and the man lying on the floor disappeared. For a moment, the dark haired human stared at the yellow and black, counting the squares formed.

Sometime later, he stopped as abruptly as he'd started. And with the same lack of connection as he'd had to the man in the holo. Turning, he walked out of the holodeck. It had been awhile since he stepped on the Ronin. The thrum of the engine, the sense of home. His hands, sputtered briefly. As if a flame that was trying to burn back from the embers, but quickly faded. Without a further glance at his surroundings, he continued walking. ::

((Quarters))

::Moments or hours later, he realized he was in his quarters. He was moving, and therefore had to pack. Picking up a photo, he looked down to see the crew of the Ronin. His face shifted to a smile as flames like St. Elmo's fire began running up and down his arms. He remembered the Counselor on the Ronin whose empathic abilities had likened his emotions to flames. There was something... something he had to.... the flames flickered and died, and woodenly he placed the picture into a box.

Methodically he began packing the items he found into boxes. Initially he paused, the flame flickering around him with nearly every item. And each time his face shifted to that of a man desperately fighting against the odds. But...as each item was placed, the flames flickered less frequently, his face remained a stoic mask.

Each box was slowly filled, taped and moved to a corner of the room. The pace was economical, neither too urgent nor too relaxed.

Finally, each item was stored, the rome was emptied. He moved one last large box near the rest before stepping into it. He filled the box with packing, before closing the flaps and sealing it from the inside. He closed his eyes and exhaled softly before speaking ::

Walker: I'm done.

((SB118 Sickbay))

:: The First officer lay on the bio bed, his body almost immobile. His words came out in a whisper...::

Walker: I'm done.

:: The alarm split the air, as the bio bed noted the sudden drop in vitals as the man quietly passed ::

Lt. Cmdr Ben Walker

FO

SB118/USS Victory

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