round 3 Lt Cmdr Atimen - Alone

[Guest]

(( Ithassa Sector - 2 Years Prior ))

::It had been a long day’s work for the inhabitant of this small shanty on a hill. Wood and plaster like the houses of old, it was a single rectangular structure with singular purpose. A lone mattress lay bare on a corner, along with a portable food replicator unit - not the only technology, for the rest of the room was filled with it.::

::It was raining. The hardest rain he had yet seen, and he feared for his work. The lush green grass outside soaked up the ambrosia of life, rejoicing in the growth it would bring. The structure might have been made by replicator, but it wasn't holding up as well - water had begun to trickle onto the floor. And onto his equipment.::

::He quickly tossed a tarp over his obsession and turned his attention upwards - the leaks had to be patched, and quick. Duranium, he told himself. Duranium would have been a better choice. Ugly, but better. The romantic in him apparently had disagreed. He grabbed a polymer adhesive and took a deep breath, stepping out into the flood.::

::The wind howled in his ears and battered against his sides, and it wasn't five seconds before his hair became matted and his clothes waterlogged. He pulled himself onto the roof, wiping his bangs out of his eyes as he tried to find the source of his pain. Fifteen minutes later and he collapsed exhausted, staring up at the darkened sky. The wind died down and the rain became soft.::

::He had been living here for a while. So much so that it had become his home, now far more than the temporary housing he originally sought. It was his refuge. It was his castle. It was his solitude. He had come here alone, a refugee from the darkness of space. He had run. Fled. Escaped.

Where he had come from was death, and it was on his hands. He had told himself he had to, that there was no other option. It was a lie.::

::Each rain-drop reminded him of home. He missed his friends. His family. His captain. His crew. His ship. In his mind he was a failure, and even worse he was a deserter. He had abandoned them when they needed him the most.::

Atimen: I'm sorry. ::He whispered, blinking rain and tears out of his eyes.:: I'm sorry.

::He hadn't spoken a word aloud since he arrived all those months ago. He had no one to speak it to. No one but the rain. But it listened. It embraced him. The giver of life, of growth, of sustenance. There, on that roof, light years away from any living soul, he was not alone.::

--

Lt. Cmdr Atimen

Chief of Security/Tactical

Starbase118 Operations

[~Mo~]

I just wanted to post that, it was the main reason I logged into forums.

[T'Mihn]

It's a soulful sim.

[Bryce Tagren-Quinn]

Wow, Atimen! What a great sim!