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Lt. Cmdr. Alleran Tan - Missing This

Sedrin Belasi

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(( Corridor, USS Garuda ))

:: Tan walked. The ship rocked. Red alert lights flashed. The pain trickled up his leg, fighting against the painkillers, effective as they were. The turbolift to the bridge seemed so far away. ::
:: Chaos. Pain. War. The tink of metal-tipped walking stick on deckplate. ::
:: He wasn't frightened. He'd been frightened before battles, and after battles, but never during. Never, ever during. ::
:: The only thing that frightened him, these days, wasn't phasers. Wasn't death and misery. ::
:: It was how happy he felt, right at this moment. ::
:: He'd missed this. ::
:: He missed war. ::
:: The idea frustrated him. It fought against his sensibilities -- Trills were exceptionally peace-loving people. It was hardly their most defining feature, but it was part of his cultural make up. ::
:: It wasn't so hard to rationalise. The computers of the Garuda's holodecks were full of various tactical simulations, some for training, others for entertainment. There were holographic recreations of great battles of all the Federation's cultures, great and small. Simple and bloody. Pronounced and neigh-forgotten. Fictional. Real. Embelished. Stories from legend. ::
:: If it was easy for a civilian, 35 years old and having never fired a phaser in anger to desire to be in war, imagine how easy it was for him; he'd trained all his life for it. Been surrounded by it. It was all he knew. ::
:: No. The thumping of the metal on the deck became more angry. That was not him. He had killed, yes, and fought when needed -- but always had he struggled to find the peaceful path. To help, not to destroy. ::
:: He had hoped this mission would be one of those times. Those times where lives were saved and medals won without lives being paid on the other side. One of those times he wouldn't bleed, wouldn't have a wound in his heart requiring extensive counselling. ::
:: Kira Venroe had helped him a great deal in the past. He wasn't sure if she knew that. She was beautiful, kind, intelligent... many things. ::
:: And a universe away, now. He had meant to write to her for some time. ::
:: Days became weeks became months. Time kept slipping by. There was always a drama. A trial. Some death to be avoided or dealt out in equal measure. ::
:: Kill or be killed. Was that the civilised, peaceful times they lived in? ::
:: It certainly seemed so. Tan stepped into a turbolift and watched as the doors hissed closed. ::
Tan: Bridge.
:: Obediently, the soft whine filled the room as the turbolift took him towards the crown of the ship. ::
:: How polite the ship was. The same voice would be equally polite as it levelled an entire city, as the USS Constitution -- a Galaxy class starship just like this one -- had done to a city on Betazed. ::
:: In a way, it was just like him. A polite killer. A softly spoken tool of war. ::
:: The turbolift travelled onward, and Tan had no idea what to do with all of this. ::
:: But Quinn had to be saved. ::
:: He had to fight yet again. ::
Lt. Commander Alleran Tan
Chief of Navigation
USS Garuda
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