[USS Vanguard] At the Gates of Hell.

  • From: "mark" <mark@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: "*USS Vanguard" <ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Tue, 21 Feb 2006 19:51:01 -0000

Eight minutes had now passed since The Vanguard had docked and all of its
crew, past and present - that were still with them that is - would all by
now be at the stations bar, catching up and reminiscing old times, all but
me that is, Cynan mused to himself as he stared out of a window, several
decks above the promenade area.

The past 24 months had been hard for him, very hard. What with the Carillon
incident and him losing Xristha he had become more and more withdrawn as the
days went by. Consequently his relationships suffered and his only real
interaction now was with Sam, and that was more drink then talk. The
darkness had returned and it was ready to engulf him.

However he had a plan. He would shave of his beard and cut off his long and
wavy black hair. He'd press his uniform and tidy himself up good. He'd call
in a few favours and when The Vanguard left in two weeks he'd be on her, and
then once she was far away from Federation space he'd wait for his chance to
present itself.

"Cynan?" Zena called spying him from a lower deck. She'd left the bar to run
a quick errand.

"Cynan!" she repeated, this time placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Get of me!" he shouted, turning and pushing her away abruptly.

Zena lost her footing, slipped and tumbled down a flight of stairs landing
with a thud.

Picking herself up angrily, she looked and Cynan didn't appear to care. He
was standing as he was before she'd arrived, starving emptily out one of the
stations many windows. There were some that might have attacked him now,
some that would have reported him, some that would have done nothing but
turn away. Zena was did not fit into any of these categories. The two of
them had been friends once and she cared too much not to try.

Walking up to him once more she turned him around and slammed him hard into
a near by bulkhead, restraining him so he couldn't move.

"You've got to get it together!" she was trying to help him but all he'd do
was struggle to get free, anger flaring in his eyes.

"So you've had some hard breaks. Everybody does. Get over them. I will not
let you do this to yourself. Not again. You're worth more then this. Worth
more to all of us."

Was he listening? Was he /really/ listening? Or were her words falling on
deaf ears. Was he to far gone? She was beginning to wonder and that it
happened, he kissed her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, pushing him away.
"Whatever's the way to sort yourself out, that is NOT it."

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