Defeat Is Not An Option

Posted on Thu Jul 20th, 2017 @ 3:03am by Commander Christopher Samuels MDiv, PhD

Mission: S01E01 - At the Brink of Night
Location: San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: 2255

“I swear to the high heavens, Christopher Samuels, you take this assignment we are through!”

That argument stretched on into the wee hours of the morning, and honestly, Christopher was grateful the two owned a home in the middle of nowhere. There would be no witness after they killed each other. It started off as a calm conversation, and then evolved into a screaming match that ended all screaming matches. He was sure he and Dylan would have come to blows, but in the end, the fight ended in tears and then pleading to stay.

Because of his declaration that he would indeed accept the assignment to the Musashi, Dylan then handed him a PADD that contained the divorce decree. Christopher begged the man he loved that this could be worked out, that they shouldn’t just throw away twenty years of marriage. But Dylan, whose cheeks were stained with tears, crossed his arms over his chest and just shook his head. They had gotten through Christopher’s one—one—infidelity that happened during the war, so why couldn’t they get past this? He sought the counseling; he did what Dylan had wanted. So why now? Why over an assignment?

These questions still were like a dark cloud that hung over him as he walked the corridors of the Planetary Sciences Building on the grounds of Starfleet. He hooked a finger in the collar of the new Starfleet uniform and pulled. It would certainly take some getting used too, but a new uniform was the least of his worries. In his hand he clutched onto the PADD that contained the divorce papers. He couldn’t stop staring at it, he kept forgetting he was holding it and yet the data information device felt like the size of a starship. Maybe I should sit this one out? Maybe he is right? he said to himself.

After Dylan asked for the divorce, Christopher did the only thing he knew how to do. He prayed. He prayed for an answer, and he prayed for some guidance in the matter. He was only 48 years old; he wasn’t ready to give up his career just yet. Just because Dylan wanted to retire from Starfleet and go into private practice didn’t mean Christopher had to give up his career and do what? Teach high school science to a bunch of snot nose brats? Pastor a church? Work for a lab corporation in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, or New York? Just because Dylan had it figured out didn’t mean he had to. Did he?

Christopher could hardly blame Dylan for wanting to settle down. They had both been war veterans, and both had dealt with some dark demons concerning that war. They helped each other, and when Christopher almost lost his sight, Dylan had been there and encouraged him to move forward.

He shook his head with vigor.

“I refuse to accept this!” he said under his breath. He brought the PADD up to eye level and stared at it. Dylan wanted him to sign the papers right away, but Christopher found himself flat out refusing.

”I won’t sign this!”

“You have to, don’t be selfish, Chris!

“No, I won’t give up on us.”

Christopher replayed that conversation in his head, it was a calm one this time. However, when he refused to sign the PADD, Dylan had just walked out. But, he was not going to sign, not until they could really see if this could be worked out.

This was just one more thing that seemed to pile up on him. It almost felt like he couldn’t catch a break, and the universe was ganging up on him. The Constitution had to be docked for a refit, which would take almost a year to complete. He then decided to take the plunge and take the required tests to get his own command, and some bitch named Figueroa had failed him, which cost him a fourth stripe and a command. Then he was offered a transfer to an Ares-class vessel, which next to a Constitution-class was just as state of the art. He couldn’t pass it up, could he? What if he did get his own command, would that have made a difference with his marriage?

So many questions, and there were just no answers. He sighed in frustration, frustration that turned to anger. Next thing he realized, the PADD had left his hand and it was hurtling toward the nearest bulkhead. The device hit hard, sparked, and then dropped to the floor. It sparked again, and a puff of smoke rose from the cracked screen. Christopher stared at it for a moment, and he felt the anger dissipate. He walked past the broken data device, making sure to step on it as he did so. He was not going to let his marriage die, and he was not going to give up his career.

He just had to figure out how to do both, without losing both.

 

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