Motivations
Posted on 14 Oct 2018 @ 10:16pm by Lieutenant Colonel Cassandra Blackburn
868 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Empty Creche
Location: Officers Quarters, Starship Redemption
Timeline: ED1
ON
Blackburn walked slowly back to her quarters, her mind working overtime. She had gotten so close to being gone from this ship and everything it represented forever. So why had she agreed to stay after all this time of trying to get away? It definitely wasn’t the promotion – an unnecessary and clumsy gesture by someone up high to get her to stay – and it definitely wasn’t her love of the service. As she entered the quarters she suppressed a dark thought that reared itself at the back of her mind: The Redemption had been all she’d know for five years – perhaps she couldn’t let it go when all she wanted was to do so.
“Stockholm syndrome on a bloody ship” she whispered to herself as she surveyed the living room. Her belongings still packed into the disorganised crates left there since the start of the Hadronus mission. The desk was piled high with unread PADDs relating to the running of the Marine detachment, something she utterly neglected and intended to keep on neglecting. She entered the bathroom and rinsed her face with cold water, running her hand through her rough, short black hair. Looking at pale, gaunt face in the mirror, she dismissed the idea of needing the Redemption out of her mind. She was still here for one thing and one thing alone: Joe Fursman.
She frowned at the thought of her former partner, torturer and sixth fleet intelligence operative. Of the chances of meeting him again, she had no doubt it was just a matter of time. Then she would bring this entire thing to closure for them both.
“In the form of a slow and painful death.” She said menacingly, aloud to herself in the mirror.
She wandered back into the main living area again, poking her ears with a small hand towel. She heard the doors open, so she looked up and saw Sergeant Major Bourne stood at the door, rigid and in a crisp uniform as he always was.
She raised her eyebrows at him for a moment. “Knocked?” She asked.
“The door automatically opened Ma’am, as you never enabled the lock settings when you took over the quarters.” He said, clearly unhappy at being in the Officer’s accommodation part of the ship. She shrugged in reply, tossing the towel onto the dining table.
“Come in, William.” She said. “Officers don’t bite you know, we go to the toilet just like you.” She reflected for a moment on his rigidity. “Well, perhaps not like you” She said, smiling at the thought of her own wit. He did not change his expression and took one step forward into the room, hands clasped firmly behind his back.
“I suppose you want to know why I’m still here.” She said. “I guess the Captain has spoken to you?”
“Yes, Colonel.” He replied. “I have been briefed about you staying, although the reason was not disclosed.” Blackburn sat on a chair as he spoke and opened a nearby storage crate. She rummaged around in it and pulled out a black, glass, bottle.
“This is a genuine 2360 declared single vintage port from Earth.” She said, studying it. “It was a birthday present years ago from a friend that I was saving for if and when I got promoted, when such things mattered.” She held it up to the light, to look through the dark, purple liquid as it moved about the bottle. “Thanks to Starfleet Medical, alcohol no longer affects me at all.” She said, in sad reflection.
She put the bottle back in the crate and looked at him. “I’m here because I’m going after Fursman. Barron has a lead. No more, no less.”
“Personal vengeance, then.” Growled Bourne, not attempting to hide his distain. “Not for the Detachment, your Marines, the Corps or Starfleet, but for yourself. Again.”
“Bugger Starfleet!” She snapped suddenly, glaring at him in anger. “What have they ever done for me?”
A person with less fortitude may have been shocked by her sudden outburst, but Bourne remained stoic. She seethed for a few minutes before, slightly, calming down.
“Yes, it’s personal. What do you care? Once it’s done then they won’t need me anymore and I’ll resign. Fursman is dead, I move on, you can have your Corps. Everyone wins, don’t they?”
“Not everyone.” Bourne replied. “Not those who will die in the meantime under your command.”
“People will die if I’m here or not, William. That’s life. You should know that.” He grunted in reply, almost satisfied at getting the reaction out of her.
“I shall look to the Detachment, Colonel. Do you have any specific orders?”
“No” She said quietly, picking the bottle up again and breaking the seal. “I’ll come down to the marine deck tomorrow.” She lied, having no intention of doing so.
“Yes Ma’am. Goodnight.” He said, also knowing that she had no intention of doing so. As he left, she took the bottle into the bathroom, opened it, and slowly poured the contents down the sink.
OFF
Lieutenant Colonel Cassandra Blackburn
Marine Detachment Commander
USS Redemption
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