Lt Jacin - Fighting To Understand

[Zenno]

I found this self-examination to be very touching and a great solo sim. It gave some great insight into the character. She's also got some great references to other recent events that tie everything together very nicely.

Sim by @Jacin Ayemet

 

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((Gymnasium, Deck 2, USS Arrow))

It hadn’t been a typical shore leave. She wasn’t even sure she could call it that.  There had been no time off. No relaxing by a gentle beach bathed in golden light, nor happily wandering the myriad corridors of Deep Space 33 with her fiancé planning their wedding.

No her ‘downtime’ had been spent traveling to the Mentax system and rescuing a refugee from the Mirror Universe. In place of sunshine there had been a dangerous universe ripping anomaly, and in place of a golden sunlight there had been smoke and dirt and the watch f a thousand electrical fires.

She had showered, and then showered again, and had found herself pent up with frustration. She wasn’t even sure why.  So she had headed for the gym to release some of that pent up rage in hitting things that weren’t living entities. Luckily the gym had been empty and she had been able to take out her growing frustration on a synthetic leather punching bag with various kinds of punches and kicks, each one with growing anger and force, and each one accompanied by a scream or grunt of emotion.

She looked down at her hands. They were bruised and bloodied, colored red and purple as the result of her physical excretions. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and to the casual observer could cause concern, but thankfully for Ayemet there were no witnesses to her current state.

She backed away from the now ragged punching bag, wiping away the beads of sweat from her brow., and wrapping a towel around her hands in case a stray observer were to wander in to the scene. She would have to attend to her injuries somehow but at the moment that was a concern that only played on the periphery of her mind.  She adjusted the small and sweet stained black sports top  she wore and headed out the door to her personal quarters.

((Short time skip, Lt Jacin Ayemet’s Quarters, Deck 4, USS Arrow))

She stepped out the shower (how many had she had that day?) and pulled on a simple black t shirt and trousers, gingerly taking a small dermal regenerator out of a formerly locked drawer and running it over the marks on her hands. It was painful but resulted in no visible signs of what she had just been doing.  Turning to her bed she collapsed onto it, lying on top and staring at the ceiling.

She didn’t know why she was so beset with frustration and anger. There were so many reasons, none of which in themselves were anything but minor annoyances, but maybe it was that she no longer had anyone to vent to. Perhaps that was it.

Quentin leaving so suddenly was still affecting her. She understood the reasons. She understood the immense pain he was going through, and yet she still, if truth be told, was hurt. Still resented it to an extent. Apart from Connor he was the one she was closest to and he just left.  She had asked him to give her away at the wedding and he had just left.

As for the wedding and Connor, that in itself  had drifted into one of those things that they would get round to at some point. They had both been so excited to begin with, but then the realities of what it entailed, and life as a Starfleet Officer had  reared their ugly heads and now they had not so much drifted apart but been driven by duty to Starfleet and to others.

o0 Maybe we’re just too different. Maybe there are too many obstacles to overcome. 0o

Engineering and science shared so many applications and were very much intertwined in each other, and yet rather than being something that brought them together, it seemed to push them apart.

It was clear to Ayemet that two things made a huge part of Connor’s life and what brought him joy; family and his career.  She understand that and was not about to stand in his way.

She let out a scream of frustration once more and continued to stare at the ceiling. There would be another ceremony soon, and part of her wondered if she could get away with not attending, or whether she would have to dress in her uniform stand there and smile as all good officers did.

It served a good purpose. A recognition of the hard work, the dedication, that they all showed. It helped remind them of not just what they did, but why they did it, and yet she never truly felt comfortable in them, as if she was some kind of usurper who didn’t really deserve to be or belong there.

She squinted and returned her gaze to the plain unadorned ceiling above her.