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Crewman Third Class Robert Peek - Mortality, a Question

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I was catching up reading some sims today and looking for a reference in an "old" sim i've found again this piece of gold. Thanks @Jo Marshallfor let me feel the existential dread of being inside Peek's bain. His fears are now my own.


((Main Engineering, USS Gorkon))


Standing beneath the warming blue glow of the warp drive, Robert Peek looked up into the swirling mass of twisting and mixing fluids within the intermix chamber. His hand stilled their work on the console, his mind moving from thoughts of breakfast croissants consumed in a hurry that very morning, to the existential questions plaguing his life at every given moment. 


How was he? 


How was he really?


Memories of dead friends haunted his waking hours, those he had seen on Deck 8 and hoping Chris nor Vorin were one of the many or the quantity of the deceased they had evacuated from the ship during the time spent Over There. 


How could he describe the very fabric of his being?


He was Robert Peek. Engineering Yeoman. Crewman. Surviving a daily struggle to maintain order in chaos. The anguish and the turmoil, the passion and the failure. Feeling at once so profoundly connected to all the hearts and minds on board the ship, in the galaxy, in the universe, and so painfully, artfully alone. 


Did free will exist, or was every action predetermined?


His essence, rendered inert, in the tomb of his own mind. Chaos-driven quantum energy processes comprised consciousness. The fundamental meaning of potentiality, and of themselves, was insight. Walking the narrative was being one with it.


He was at a fork on the path between coherence and suffering. Humans had interacted with the cosmos through electromagnetic forces throughout history. Humanity had nothing to fear.


But was humanity on the cusp of fulfilment within the fragile consciousness of an everlasting universe, or were they perpetually doomed to repeat the same mistakes on a constant, centrifugal cavalcade of destruction? Could people really change, or was everyone doomed to stay the same?


Did those who loved him really love him, or did they simply love who they thought he was? The question simple and yet so vastly complicated. 


Eons from then, those messengers would believe like never before as they are aligned by the infinite. A celestial symphony of subatomic light meridians to sow the seeds of cooperation rather than slavery.


His existence essentially an evolving reinvention of pranic nature. He was primordial. This life was nothing short of an invocation evolution of advanced energy. They healed, they lived, and they were reborn as stardust in the ever-changing galactic dance.


How should he navigate this angelic solar system? Electrical impulses from the cosmos summoned him.


Could he hear them?


A soft beep elicited from the console beneath his fingertips and Peek looked down to the alert delivered through the computer system. 


Peek: Right, ::he smiled, signing out,:: time for lunch. 




Crewman Third Class Robert Peek

Engineering Yeoman


simmed by

Commander Jo Marshall

First Officer

USS Gorkon, NCC-82293


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