Jump to content
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

Lt Lazarus Davis - am I right? am I wrong?


Recommended Posts

(( Office of the Chief Science Officer ))

Forms, reports, explanations, extrapolations, reviews, redactions, signatures, assignments… on and on it went. He had much to account for, and almost as much to atone for. Alone in his office, at some point the lights got turned down and set to a warmer color temperature, almost mimicking the ambience of a candle-lit room. As per usual, music was playing in the background as he worked; but he was unable to find something suiting for all that he was feeling and thinking. 

Listless, ambient music invited his mind to wander too much. Orchestral music was too predictable and dull. He needed to find that sweet pot: interesting enough to partially engage with, to keep his mind from wandering too far, but not too interesting as to rob his attention.

In time, he found his way to a late 20th century band, Talking Heads. They were a long-standing favorite, at least as far as old Earth music went. Like most art from long ago, it’s hard to appreciate it in the context of the present, because it is a product of its time and place; neither of which Lazarus shared with the band. Familiar enough, without being too gripping. Quaint, even.

"And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself, "Well... how did I get here?”

 
(( OOC: link is to the Talking Heads - Once In a Lifetime music video ))

That last line caught Lazarus off guard. Something he didn’t quite understand about himself is how a song or a lyric could sometimes feel as if someone had just slipped a knife between his ribs and began to twist. He gasped for air as his throat choked up, and tears welled in his eyes.

oO How *did* you get here? Oo

There was the story he told himself, a dry narrative of recounted dates and places. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it felt somehow incomplete. He was just some guy from Earth, and now he’s been given the power of life and death? He’s living in luxury on a starship; married to a punk alien woman; galavanting across the sector. Why *him*? Why here? What did he do to deserve this? How and why was he given this life?

"Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground
Into the blue again after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground”

He was here because this is where the currents swept him. Sometimes the waters pushed him places against his will, other times he studied the currents before diving in. In either case, the result is the same: he was ultimately powerless in all of this. If not him, then someone else. If he hadn’t lead that away team, someone else would have. The pirates killed Mar[...]o, not him. And the pirates tried to kill or enslave everyone on the Constitution. Was it not his obligation to be willing to kill to protect his peers, and the families on board, from such a fate? A credible threat was made, so what was he not only justified in responding with lethal force, but required to? At that point, it seemed clear that the pirates were not interested in negotiation. Them or us, simple as that.

They may try to pin a medal on him for it, too.

"And you may ask yourself, "What is that beautiful house?"
And you may ask yourself, "Where does that highway go to?"
And you may ask yourself, "Am I right? Am I wrong?"
And you may say to yourself, "My god! What have I done?”

The PADD in his hand–“his” PADD–flexed under the pressure of his grip as the tears began to peek out from under his eyelids. Circumstance, morals, and ethics didn’t mean a damned thing. Not one damned thing! People died. And those people had friends and families; hopes and dreams. They were maligned, but that’s the nature of existence it seems: to be wrong, and to learn to be better. He had deprived 12 people that opportunity.

Davis: :: choked with grief ::  Computer, lock the door.

"Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground
Into the blue again, into the silent water
Under the rocks and stones, there is water underground
Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground
Into the blue again after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground”

As the song reached its climax, Lazarus felt rage boil within him, seated behind his desk. “His” PADD creaked under the stress of his hands wrenching it around, and one of the access panels on its back popped off, not able to flex with the twisting force he was unwittingly applying to the body and he cried and shouted profanities in the soundproofed room.

Mercifully, the song receded into an epilogue.

"Here a twister comes, here comes the twister
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was
Once in a lifetime, let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by”
 
And he caught himself between the gasping breaths to slow down and inhale deeply. Release the grip on the PADD. Exhale. Set it down. Inhale. Open your eyes. Exhale.
 
In a few moments, he had re-grounded himself. At his feet, the unyielding access panel on the ground. The PADD was flexible, and capable of handling great stress without breaking. The access panel, however, was too rigid. When the PADD flexed and contorted too much, it broke away.
 
There’s no stopping the currents. We can only hope to ride them well, and be flexible. Otherwise we break when contorted, and fall away from the whole. Same as it ever was.
 
Regaining his composure, Lazarus raked his hands through his curls and leaned back in the chair to stare at the ceiling for a moment, before looking back down at his desk at all the PADDs and forms and processes he still had to do.
 
Same as it ever was.
——
Lieutenant Lazarus Davis
Chief Science Officer
USS Constitution-B
 
Podcast Team Facilitator
IDIC team member
ASDB team member
C239510LD0
(he/him, character)
(he/they, writer)
Edited by Shedet
  • Like 1
  • Sad 1
Link to comment

Oh wow, this was really moving and a great peek into his struggling to come to terms with what he had to do.  

Link to comment

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.