The bombs just kept coming. The Klingons bombarded the planetoid. They were merciless. The sounds were deafening and the pods were only of limited protection.
I sat in the corner of pod assigned to the command group. I was crying.
This started out so innocently. We were just a bunch of Academy dropouts protesting the Federation aligning with the Klingons. It was supposed to be peaceful protest. It was supposed to be an homage to the anti-war sentiment of the 1960s.
When we got arrested, even that was supposed to be fun. We were supposed to end up in the news and hopefully the media would rally behind our belief that aligning with the Klingons was a bad idea.
No one intended to be exiled to a Klingon Prison Moon. No one intended to crash on a former King’s Fleet colony.
Even that was to be fun. We got to play parliament and even I became Governor. It was to more fun and games building cities with industrial replicators. It was a bucket of joy gathering friends to fly ships in the King’s Fleet. We were not Starfleet. We were just playing Starfleet.
The Klingons proved that.
Admiral Deveniss came in from outside. He laid down on the cot. Even for an aged Selayan, the devastation was too much.
The old Selayan heard me sobbing. He looked at me and motioned me over to his cot. I was terrified, sad and broken. What I needed was someone to make me feel safe.
I cuddled into the snake skinned Selayan. I felt safe for the first time since the shelling started.
Admiral Vincent Viceroy protected my aunt. He was not her lover. He was more like a father figure protecting her.
I think I am feeling the level of protection from a new Admiral in a new role.
Posted by:
Refugee Bernice Branson
Lost in the Klingon Theatre
King’s Fleet Protected Territory
