Sharpened Focus

Posted on Fri Sep 22nd, 2017 @ 6:48pm by Commander Christopher Samuels MDiv, PhD

Mission: S01E01 - At the Brink of Night
Location: Random Corridor
Timeline: Slight Backpost

So he got the privilege of leading this away mission.

Christopher Samuels took pause as he let that thought sink in. He had led away missions before; this certainly wasn’t his first rodeo, however, it was his first doubling up as the first officer. He had just wished that he was first officer under a different CO, though he had to admit to Fig’s credit, she still made the move despite their rocky relationship. He tried to give the woman the benefit of the doubt, his faith had guided him to do so, but still… she came off brash and a hot head. How a hot head ever got command of a starship was beyond him, but from what he knew of her she produced results during the Four Year War. That was all Starfleet needed—at the time anyway. Things were different now, yet people were still stuck in the past. Yes, the Klingon’s were always going to be a threat, but Starfleet couldn’t stay on red alert 24/7.

He slipped his glasses off his face and immediately the surrounding corridor had gone blurry. He sighed as he rubbed his dry eyes—a side effect of his injury. Even after all this time it was still something that took him momentarily by surprise. He had been lucky—unlike so many others—in that he survived the explosion that took his sight. He had been lucky that after several painful surgeries his sight had been somewhat restored. Yet, there were times after that he didn’t feel so lucky, that he clung to Dylan crying and panicking that the world had been dark. No more seeing, no more color, his world would be dark. That had been a lot to take in and his faith wavered because of it. Dylan got him through it, and Dylan had been there every step of the way. Some marriages had broken up because of the war, many women and men became widows and widowers, but Dylan had stayed. Dylan, who was a war veteran himself, had stayed. When Christopher had almost lost all hope, when he thought his faith was no more than a speck of dirt, Dylan had been there. The man helped him see that things would get better, the man helped him regain his hope and his faith.

“How could I be so stupid,” Christopher mumbled to himself, as he slipped his glasses back onto his face. Immediately, the corridor sharpened. The glasses had special corrective lenses that not only compensated for the loss of vision but to bring color back into his world. How could he have left Dylan when the man he loved asked him to stay? How could he just throw twenty years of marriage, and twenty-two years of being together away, just like that? He was never that ambitious of a person, yet here he was, being ambitious. There was this sick ’I told you so’ that flitted through his thoughts when Fig had promoted him. It was vindictive and mean to even think of such a thing, but yet there it was. He wanted to contact Dylan and tell him I told you so, yet he could never actually do that. Of course, he and Dylan had their fair share of fights over the years, yet no one ever threw the ‘I told you so’, in each other’s face.

Their last fight, the fight that effectively ended things, still hung on and it still felt like a sharp sting every time he thought about it. He knew it would sting for a very long time, yet he would not sign the papers. He would not let go so easily, he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. Did that seem selfish? Damn right it did? But yet, he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t even be entirely certain if Dylan wanted to let go? It also left him wondering why now? A few years back, Christopher had cheated, he carried on an inappropriate relationship that he and the other man knew was wrong, yet carried on. The war was the excuse, but in hindsight it wasn’t an excuse at all. He was lonely, worried, and could have died… that was why he did what he did. He was weak that was the true reason.

He pushed the thought out of his head, or pushed it to the back of his mind. He knew it would resurface because it simply always did. The fact he cheated, the fact he broke his own marriage vow had disturbed him greatly and he wasn’t sure if he could ever atone for it. Sure, Dylan had forgiven him, yet Christopher had yet to really forgive himself for it. Maybe it’s time I do that, he thought to himself, but he knew that was easier said than done.

He didn’t know what was going to happen and he felt torn because he had been elated he got promoted—which could lead to his own command—but yet felt hollow. When Fig had said the words, he wanted to get out of the briefing room and go to his quarters and call Dylan and tell him the good news. It was like when he was little and he had some good news he couldn’t wait to share with his mom. It was that good, giddy feeling that one would feel in the pit of their stomachs. He had that same feeling yet as quick as it came, the real world came crashing down, smothering out the spark of life that was the good, giddy feeling. Something that should have been good news now meant nothing, at least not really. It didn’t feel like a win or a victory, all it was was words on a piece of paper. All it meant was the title of First Officer was added to a long list of titles to his name. What was a title anyway? He was a doctor, a pastor, a commander, a science officer, and now a first officer. Did any of it really matter when one’s life was on the brief of collapsing?

Some would say yes, people like Fig would say yes. People like Dylan would say no, he would say people matter; the ones you love matter, the ones you are in love with would matter. Maybe he was being selfish… maybe he needed to stop being selfish. There was nothing he could do at the moment, but after the mission there were decisions he would need to make, tough decisions. He had to decide what truly mattered to him, and not just try to convince himself that it all mattered. He had some hard choices to make. These were going to be the tough choices that would affect him, Dylan, and his tenure on the Musashi.

However, in the here and now he had an away team to lead, people to protect, and a job to do. Duty had to come first, at least right now. He had to stay focused, lives were on the line and there was this part of him that felt he needed to prove to Fig he was the right man for the job. In hindsight he didn’t have anything to prove to the woman, yet an ‘I told you so’ was on the tip of his tongue. He would gladly use it on her anytime, anywhere. There was some self-satisfaction in that and that thought made him grin.

Changes and choices, drastic changes and choices would have to wait…

And wait they would.