Posted on Mon Jul 30th, 2018 @ 4:58am by Lieutenant JG Jackson Lewis
Location: Deck 8 Quarters
Timeline: During Hip and Pip
Jackson sat on the floor of his quarters with his back against the wall. He had been told a party was ongoing right now but he wasn't really in the mood to wear a fake smile. As he sat in the dark he wondered how he'd come this far, literally and figuratively. He knew why he'd come this far from Earth. He considered that instead of Starfleet he should have just chartered a ship headed out of the quadrant or even the galaxy. The more miles between himself and his father the better.
Not to put too fine a point on it, he hated the man. The guy who to public eyes was an upstanding citizen, a pillar of the community. But in private that wide smile would fade, the eyes would lose their shine, and the true self would step out of its suit like a snake shedding it's skin.
As if conjuring a spirit he could hear, smell, and see his father standing above him. The whiskey sloshing in the bottle he held by the neck in a death grip. The smell of his aftershave. The sound of his belt striking the floor wildly before making contact with flesh and in the background the soft sobbing of his mother who usually caught round one of the fight.
He closed his eyes and the phantom was gone. If only it was that easy. He stood and entered the bathroom looking himself in the mirror. His eyes had dark circles and he looked like hell. They say idle hands were the devil's playthings. A pilot with no ship to fly may be even worse.