Quiet day, finally finished this, thought I'd give it a go
Please note this has been kicking around a few weeks and was not inspired by the recently screened Deep Space 9 episode(s) where Worf wants to get Jadzia into Stovacor (or whoever it's spelt). It was in fact inspired by the Shaktar laws in a piece of work on their society (from someone's SLA homepage) which read "Complete any task you undertake - The tasks that you leave unfinished will linger with you forever. "
Anyway here we go, comments welcome of course.
Martin
The shuttle rocked slightly as it met the atmosphere of Mort, he remembered the rough ride on the journey out. He figured that there was so much garbage and pollution circling the planet it was amazing there was a gap they could fit get out at all. How the communication satellites ever got a signal through.....
"Welcome home boys"
He turned to look at the stupid grin on the face of the Lieutenant. His Commanding Officer, some joke, he was no Commander Dodd, but then neither was Commander Dodd since he was caught in the blast of that Bio-grenade. So they sent in this fuckwit, and the first thing he did was inform them that they were withdrawing from 314. Said it was standard troop rotation, a term guarding the Extraterrestrial shipyards in Temper. But he knew the truth, it was written all over the Lieutenant's face, he was scared, probably used some arse-licking Corporate father's influence to switch assignments. Well he didn't want to leave 314, and neither did his gun. What if the gun was right? What if they wouldn't let him keep it? Too warworld for the shipyards. His gun had kept him alive, it was his teacher, his soul mate, his guardian. He stared at its gleaming form in the racks above the Sergeant's head, and it stared back. He heard it whispering, this just didn't feel right, something was up, something wasn't right here. He looked back at the Lieutenant, smiling at some of the men like an idiot, he caught sight of Miller returning the Lieutenant smile. That wasn't right, he'd served with Miller since he was sent in to patch up loses. Three whole weeks on 314 and he'd never seen Miller smile once. He looked back at his gun, it had noticed it too, something was very wrong. What if it was a lie? What if there never were any orders to withdraw? What if they had left a gap in the line for Thresher to strike? By now the lines could have been overrun, thousands in Thresher death camps because of him? What if they were being led into a trap, to one of those very camps? The shuttle rocked again. The Lieutenant checked his chronometer. Dammit. It was a trap, fucking fifth columnist fucking spy fucking bastard, the Lieutenant and Miller, sent to lead them into a trap. He glanced back at his gun, it knew, it knew what had to be done, they were running out of time, it was ready.
Comments / questions to Martin Wheeler