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Posted on Tue Jul 10, 2018 @ 3:52pm by Lieutenant Commander Ronald Hawk
Edited on on Sun Nov 25, 2018 @ 8:56pm

Mission: S01E02: First Unity
Location: Langley Station - Level 9 - Ron’s Quarters
Timeline: MD04 0200 Hours

Ron’s feet had barely had the weight lifted from them for five minutes ever since he arrived on the station earlier in the day. The sight of his new quarters as the doors hissed in parting, was more than welcome. Immediately opposite the doorway in which he now stood were 3 large bay widows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Behind the transparent aluminium that made up the pains were the bright shining stars, of which a couple of thousand seemed to kiss the planet which filled up almost the entirety of the right most panel.

“Home,” he muttered as the doors slid to a quiet close behind him. He ventured over to sit on the couch which was placed conviently for star gazing, and looked around the room from its confort. His baggauge had been placed tidily in a corner by the quarter master, and he paid close attention checking each item off in his head. The most important item, at least in his mind, stood right at the front leaning casually against a clothes trunk. He stood to walk smoothly over and retrieve it.

His guitar wasn’t an item he considered a material procession. To Ron it was more like a close friend. In every hard time he would strum gently on its strings and sing his troubles over it. In the good times the guitar almost guided him in joyful tunes. Right now, it was here to support him in his uncertainty.

The very reason Ron was on this station at all was a deeply sad one. His father who he had enstranged himself from for the majority of his career with StarFleet now lay in the grave. His very last encounter with his father alive ended in argument, and now he was filled with regret. All those years wasted, and all this time Ron’s father was too proud in himself to reach out to his son. It had to be done after his passing by Fiona, Ron’s sister. “He was proud o’ ya, ye know,” She has told him. “Always tellin’ any folk who’al listen abou’ his son in the stars, abou’ his war hero.”

In fact Fiona had been quite clear that she was jealous of Ron. After all how could a lowly farmer compare to what Ron had done with his life. The life only made possible by directly disobeying his fathers wishes and joint the Fleet in the first place.

Ron sat back down, with his centuries old acoustic tangle wood guitar across his knee, and he strummed. Not long after he began to sing a song he had written in the evening of the funeral:

“If my heart we’re to fail me completely,
and my eyes become dull in my head.
If my mind were to lose its condition,
My friends all to leave me for dead.

Somehow a spark would still glimmer,
Somewhere a thought would remain.
You are the song of my story,
and I will remember your name.

The only place that I will run to is home,
And the only face that I’ll remember is yours,
All this time, in all I do, I’ve been looking for you.
The only place I will run to is home.”

The chorus broke him, as he slumped over his wooden friend and wept over it. All this time he had made StarFleet his home. But what sort of stability had it offered him? He had seen death after death, moved from ship to ship, and for what? Adventure? Well he had certainly had that, but it wasn’t all the glitz and glamour that his younger self had hoped for upon joining. All this time, he had turned his back on home. When his father had been sat in the family farmhouse waiting to welcome his son with open arms.

Sure the rest of his family were still waiting. But that wasn’t enough, he had missed his chance with his dad. And now when he returned, it would never be the same again.




Lieutenant Commander Ronald Hawk
Executive Officer
Langley Station

 

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