Hawkeye Island

Task Force 86

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The Start

Posted on Sun Apr 12th, 2020 @ 9:56am by Ambassador Robert Eisen

Mission: Mission One: A New Beginning...(Backstory)
Location: Personal residence - Hawkeye Island
Timeline: present

Robert had spent the last 5 years in relative peace and isolation, his small house overlooking the shores of the Jungle bay. Now the Federation was returning in force; the region had had its instabilities and once more they had started again. He had always tried to keep abreast and read through the weekly reports. He'd kept his monthly meeting with Minister Ya'Shin. He had watched from afar as the engineers steadily rebuilt the base around him. Robert would soon be back to work. Though did he really want to?

Only time would tell; but what else was he to do. He had no other place to go. His past was his past, and the future would be what it would be.

He stepped out into the hazy tropical rain and walked towards the cliffs edge. Closing his eyes he recalled that moment; the moment he had almost thrown himself over, while under the influence of the Pollen as it had become locally known. So many memories had surfaced under its hallucinogenic compound.

~
[i]Robert looked down at his hands, they seemed strangely unfamiliar, younger; he looked out into the horizon of Proxima, the smoke from the riots had now been subdued and the streets were clear, he could hear the distant rush of water from the great river Ardent as he stepped forward and leaned over the balcony of the Manheim Palace; built over a 100 years ago it had served as the Governors residence and political assembly building for 90 of those.

What had he done, there was nothing left, no going back… only forward, a sort of escapism for his actions, his right hand shook uncontrollably as he tried to calm himself down, he gripped his hand into a tight fist and then under his other arm.

Robert turned quickly to the sound and crackle of his father’s record player; and the soft melody of abide with me, the hymn his father had been so fond of just as his father had been, he had often wondered if it was some sort of family tradition; he too was fond of the song but at that very moment it should decide to play; no his mind, his fragile state could not bear the agony of each and every sombre note that the violin played. Eisen moved forward to step into the large chamber but found himself in a dark room, no faces, no sound.

He had been there before, he was sure now that he was in some sort of dream, or was it real, had the future been a dream of what he had aspired to, if so? Why would he dream of the tragedies that lay before him? He was back on the balcony, Robert smiled as he looked down at the flowers that had become full bloom, the whites and champagne coloured blossoms; the wind seemed to carry them around him and off into the setting sun; an almost serine and peaceful moment in an otherwise distorted world they he happened to reside in. the pain of his father's death dawned on him once more as he wiped his brow, the dry blood flaked away with the touch of his fingers, he stared for long moments. Now his head seemed to pound like thunder, a thousand race horses pounding through the dirt and sand.

Governor Peter Eisen was dead, assassinated by those that deserved nothing but contempt. He had shown them loyalty, friendship, shared his inner most thoughts with several of the conspirators and even treated the assassin like a son. He would not make that mistake; he had dealt with them all. His heart sank and he turned towards the stars and fell to his knees a prayer for forgiveness, forgiveness he knew that would never come for his crimes, he could repent a million times, but murder was still that, no matter what the circumstances; revenge was a killer of them both.

The rain pitted his face softly as the sky began to darken with the night, a gentle breeze swept the drizzle gently at an angle; his hair matted into his forehead and his dark uniform drained of the blood from Micah and pooled upon the marble floor and into the ornate patterns.[i]

“There is much to do Sir”

Came the soft voice, penetrating his inner most thoughts. Robert turned, smiled. it was Leena, his personal assistant.

"I have a message from Starfleet"

 

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