Coming to terms

Posted on Wed Jun 17th, 2020 @ 3:33am by Lieutenant Colonel Azhul Naxea

Mission: Season 3: Episode 4: Cause and Effect
Location: Naxea's Quarters
Timeline: MD 8-- 2230 Hours
477 words - 1 OF Standard Post Measure

Naxea's hands glided over the clay. Her green tank top and blacks shorts showed a few clay droppings that had spun off the spinning pottery wheel. Her hands slowly shaped the clay into a recognizable shape of a vase.

Her mind however was someplace else as she thought about her time captured by the Orions. She hadn't talked about what happened to her with anyone--even S'hib had no idea. She couldn't bring herself to tell him. For several days, she spent time in the holodeck dealing with her frustrations at her capture and torture in the form of pummeling holographic Orions to bloody pulps despite her body taking a beating as well as she had disabled the safeties each time.

Her hands continued to glide slowly up and down, applying slight pressure at times and easing off at other times to cause the vase to take it's shape. She let out a ragged breath as her mind went back to that dark base--to that Orion bitch...and how she forced her to do things...and have things forced upon her. She closed her eyes as a single tear escaped down her cheek. Her hands began to tremble and she continued to glide over the clay. The trembling began to cause warps in the clay.

She thought over not only herself but her people. They were originally a peaceful and artistic race. Proud, inspiring, and kind. Then came the Cardassians and they took those things from the Bajorans--from her. Then came the Dominion. And now the Orions had their way.

Unbridled rage erupted as she grabbed the clay and chunked it at the wall, the clay landing with a wet splat as it struck the bulkhead. Following the clay as her spinning wheel and it too collided with the bulkhead, shattering. She collapsed onto her knees in her quarters as sobs racked her body. She would be damned if she would ever allow it to happen to her or her people again. Those that tried would be shown no mercy by her. "Never again," she muttered thought clinched teeth with her hands balled into fists. "Never again," she repeated.

She took a deep, ragged breath. She opened her bloodshot eyes, realizing where they currently were. At this point in time, the Bajorans were peaceful and spacefaring. If she could send information to them about what happened then maybe the Bajorans wouldn't suffer so much--she wouldn't suffer so much. "No..." she whispered to herself with a slight shake of her head.
She had a duty to the Federation and the Starfleet Marine Corps. She slowly got to her feet and began to clean up the mess she had made with the occasional thought of informing her people making it's way back into her train of thoughts only to be reluctantly be pushed back into the back of her mind.