I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t worried, not at all, but if one cannot be honest with oneself then what is the point of it all? I’m standing outside the offices of my nominal superiors in a standard rest pose. Yeah, I’m feeling very restful right about bloody now thank you very much!
I suppose an explanation is in order for anyone whom might be happening upon my thoughts and ruminations. (Hell, we all know that there are telepaths out there yes? Despite the best efforts of Imperial high command...) anyway, for those caring to listen in on my less than impressive mental landscape, I have pleasure to be Captain John O’Connell of His Most Imperial Majesties Starfleet. (A mouthful I know), Commanding officer of the HIMS Cromwell victor of countless battles against the Klingons and other alien scum and at this present time, a man on the verge of truly bricking it.
Unfortunately for my good self I have made a serious cardinal mistake that has cast both the Empire and my dear, dear physical survival into terrible uncertainty. (naturally you can guess which one is keeping me awake at night and it ain’t the thought of this blood soaked behemoth that I’m forced to serve going under, Thor no!) It was just a simple little mistake, an error any silly bugger might have made; it was just fate that I...
Oh Shit.
The doors are opening and why look at this! The imperial honour guide is marching out three lines abreast, in perfect rhythm and timing, the harsh cadences of their boots tapping out a wonderfully melodic signature tune inviting me to my death. I’m actually smiling at this over the top display of imperial pomp and circumstance just for little old me.
At least I now know who will be deciding my fate. Bollocks!
I stand at parade rest, my arms folded at the small of my back and my legs sprayed out in perfect balance, head held high with my gaze locked firmly at the vast unfeeling door ahead of me. I look like one impressive SOB, even if I do say so myself.
“Hearken upon this summons oh servant of our common lord. You are ushered into the presence of your superiors from the most august Imperial court, are you ready for this audience my Lord Captain?”
“I am” I said loudly and clearly trying to ignore the prissy little stuffed shirt in front of me.
“Then enter and know your fate!” he cried out all too melodramatically for my humble tastes to stomach.
I marched swiftly and surely past the protocol master and the stiff silent guardsmen pushing open the doors with my own two hands. If I’m going down it’ll be under my own power and dignity thank you very much.
As I stepped into the room my only rather irreverent thought was annoyance that it had been the Loki dammed Sassenach who had implanted the modus Operandi of this Empire with all of the ridiculous pomposities that entailed. It’s going to be a very, very long day for me...
I walked up to the small table set flush in the center of the large chamber and stood stock still at the side of said table, awaiting patiently for my jury to arrive. I find a certain therapeutic measure in the in depth study of the frankly leviathantic Imperial emblem adorning the huge wall behind the receiving stands. It seemed to glare at me in disgust, the bright red hinting at the lamentably short future that I would no doubt enjoy. Still, it was reassuring to me in its own way.
A titan amongst any other form of imagery or symbolism, awe-inspiring to say the very least, it was the mighty symbol of our august Empire.
A powerful sword thrust determinately though the core of the birth world, an image that spoke to the Terran masterly of the physical and our proud strength. It stated quite proudly that we humans would make any sacrifice, overcome any and all obstacles in our path towards greatness; even the lives of our sons and daughters mattered not in the grand scheme. Hell, we would throw our own homeworld upon the fires of destruction if need be and it is that strength and visionary willpower that has got us to the pre eminent position that we enjoy today.
If it’s my death that will ease the burden of my mistake and restore pride and glory to the Empire then, may the AllFather take me; I’ll gladly jump into the abyss for my comrades and fellow Terrans.
Yeah, let those pointy eared Romulan arseholes keep their precious Home worlds cowering under the craws of a ridiculous Raptor in a vain attempt to keep the darkness at bay, Earth knows dammed well that you bloody well face down the darkness and make it your own. And if you can’t win the fight then at least the bastard knows it’s been in a fight. And I’m feeling like true son of the soil today.
A chime reverberates across the confines of the chamber announcing the imminent arrival of the Imperial Oversight Committee of the High Imperial Court.
As the capital letters slide into place with the dull thuds of authority, I find my spine straightening even further and my arms slamming into place with almost exhilarating speed.
I’m once again adapting myself into the required dignity and poise of a seasoned imperial officer in high standing in the Fleet. And y’know what? It feels marvelous to immerse myself once again in that sea of duty, order and obedience.
There they are, moving with the certain grace of the Alpha predator. Firstly the grizzled Chief of Starfleet the Right Honourable Sir Admiral Cheung Tak Wing, his battle hardened face seeking out all possible targets both real and imagined before gracefully taking the left highest chair on the podium. After him I espy three of the higher ranked Imperial Fleet Admirals, Jellico, Abalunam and one of my own dear countrymen O’Brien. All three took their places with speed and efficiency onto the lower tiers.
I gulped inwardly as I waited for the last two VIPs to emerge, two of the most famous and above all, ruthless individuals in half the known galaxy. It is always telling of the human condition that most of our lives are spent waiting for bad or unpleasant news then rushing around to deal with the aftermath.
But then that’s why we’re the Human race after all.
Uh oh, I think that my stress inducted tangential musings have almost made me miss the first of my executioners making his grand entrance. Gotta pay more attention, these are the biggest cheeses smelling up the joint. Gods damn it; I’m going to get myself in real trouble with this irreverent attitude one of these days...
I suppose an explanation is in order for anyone whom might be happening upon my thoughts and ruminations. (Hell, we all know that there are telepaths out there yes? Despite the best efforts of Imperial high command...) anyway, for those caring to listen in on my less than impressive mental landscape, I have pleasure to be Captain John O’Connell of His Most Imperial Majesties Starfleet. (A mouthful I know), Commanding officer of the HIMS Cromwell victor of countless battles against the Klingons and other alien scum and at this present time, a man on the verge of truly bricking it.
Unfortunately for my good self I have made a serious cardinal mistake that has cast both the Empire and my dear, dear physical survival into terrible uncertainty. (naturally you can guess which one is keeping me awake at night and it ain’t the thought of this blood soaked behemoth that I’m forced to serve going under, Thor no!) It was just a simple little mistake, an error any silly bugger might have made; it was just fate that I...
Oh Shit.
The doors are opening and why look at this! The imperial honour guide is marching out three lines abreast, in perfect rhythm and timing, the harsh cadences of their boots tapping out a wonderfully melodic signature tune inviting me to my death. I’m actually smiling at this over the top display of imperial pomp and circumstance just for little old me.
At least I now know who will be deciding my fate. Bollocks!
I stand at parade rest, my arms folded at the small of my back and my legs sprayed out in perfect balance, head held high with my gaze locked firmly at the vast unfeeling door ahead of me. I look like one impressive SOB, even if I do say so myself.
“Hearken upon this summons oh servant of our common lord. You are ushered into the presence of your superiors from the most august Imperial court, are you ready for this audience my Lord Captain?”
“I am” I said loudly and clearly trying to ignore the prissy little stuffed shirt in front of me.
“Then enter and know your fate!” he cried out all too melodramatically for my humble tastes to stomach.
I marched swiftly and surely past the protocol master and the stiff silent guardsmen pushing open the doors with my own two hands. If I’m going down it’ll be under my own power and dignity thank you very much.
As I stepped into the room my only rather irreverent thought was annoyance that it had been the Loki dammed Sassenach who had implanted the modus Operandi of this Empire with all of the ridiculous pomposities that entailed. It’s going to be a very, very long day for me...
I walked up to the small table set flush in the center of the large chamber and stood stock still at the side of said table, awaiting patiently for my jury to arrive. I find a certain therapeutic measure in the in depth study of the frankly leviathantic Imperial emblem adorning the huge wall behind the receiving stands. It seemed to glare at me in disgust, the bright red hinting at the lamentably short future that I would no doubt enjoy. Still, it was reassuring to me in its own way.
A titan amongst any other form of imagery or symbolism, awe-inspiring to say the very least, it was the mighty symbol of our august Empire.
A powerful sword thrust determinately though the core of the birth world, an image that spoke to the Terran masterly of the physical and our proud strength. It stated quite proudly that we humans would make any sacrifice, overcome any and all obstacles in our path towards greatness; even the lives of our sons and daughters mattered not in the grand scheme. Hell, we would throw our own homeworld upon the fires of destruction if need be and it is that strength and visionary willpower that has got us to the pre eminent position that we enjoy today.
If it’s my death that will ease the burden of my mistake and restore pride and glory to the Empire then, may the AllFather take me; I’ll gladly jump into the abyss for my comrades and fellow Terrans.
Yeah, let those pointy eared Romulan arseholes keep their precious Home worlds cowering under the craws of a ridiculous Raptor in a vain attempt to keep the darkness at bay, Earth knows dammed well that you bloody well face down the darkness and make it your own. And if you can’t win the fight then at least the bastard knows it’s been in a fight. And I’m feeling like true son of the soil today.
A chime reverberates across the confines of the chamber announcing the imminent arrival of the Imperial Oversight Committee of the High Imperial Court.
As the capital letters slide into place with the dull thuds of authority, I find my spine straightening even further and my arms slamming into place with almost exhilarating speed.
I’m once again adapting myself into the required dignity and poise of a seasoned imperial officer in high standing in the Fleet. And y’know what? It feels marvelous to immerse myself once again in that sea of duty, order and obedience.
There they are, moving with the certain grace of the Alpha predator. Firstly the grizzled Chief of Starfleet the Right Honourable Sir Admiral Cheung Tak Wing, his battle hardened face seeking out all possible targets both real and imagined before gracefully taking the left highest chair on the podium. After him I espy three of the higher ranked Imperial Fleet Admirals, Jellico, Abalunam and one of my own dear countrymen O’Brien. All three took their places with speed and efficiency onto the lower tiers.
I gulped inwardly as I waited for the last two VIPs to emerge, two of the most famous and above all, ruthless individuals in half the known galaxy. It is always telling of the human condition that most of our lives are spent waiting for bad or unpleasant news then rushing around to deal with the aftermath.
But then that’s why we’re the Human race after all.
Uh oh, I think that my stress inducted tangential musings have almost made me miss the first of my executioners making his grand entrance. Gotta pay more attention, these are the biggest cheeses smelling up the joint. Gods damn it; I’m going to get myself in real trouble with this irreverent attitude one of these days...
