Log of the Month for February, 2003
Posted on February 28th, 2003 by Adam Drake
Special Guest: Ensign Fabrizio Axelrod
Things were different.
An aura of darkness, dread, and loathing had descended upon the prominent station. The lit corridors, bustling promenade, and the powerful deck of operations had all been reduced to lifeless corpses. People walked in silence, fearing talking to anyone, only necessary objects were used, and the only thing that anyone really cared to hold and handle was a phaser compression rifle.
The scope was angled down the corridor; two men walked in silence behind Admiral Sankoh, with the sole purpose of retaking what was rightfully theirs. Defending their home, their people, and sending whatever Romulan scourge had infested their station home in body bags was the only thing on their mind.
Ensign Fabrizio Axelrod was new to the station. His dark complexion and intense expression was intimidating. Sitting in the cockpit of a fighter, whizzing amongst the stars and obliterating the opponent was exactly where most people would see him being. Not with a hydrospanner lodged carefully in his grasp while underneath a circuit control panel or replacing used bio-neural gel packs.
Adam Drake walked silently next to him. The rays of light barely penetrating the cloak of blackness just meters ahead. Every corner brought a new surprise, but the phaser rifle in his hand would offer adequate protection. He admired Axelrod’s behavior, composure, and sense of duty. A man of his stature would have fit comfortably in the ranks of the Starfleet Marine Corps, but other callings had beckoned him away.
Now, with a seasoned veteran and a bright new beginner offering a part in a resistance that was bent on retaking Starbase Alexandria, the real work would begin. The Atlantis would be flown into the spaceport for a power transfer and seizing the main computer back from the green-faced assassins.
“Game faces on, Ensign.” Drake looked over cautiously.
Axelrod smiled, “It’s always on, Captain.” Another sweeping light arc radiated from the nozzle of the phaser rifle that was clenched in the death grip Axelrod’s intensity had supplied.
Axelrod nodded, and they prowled on.
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