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Wreck Thyself

Posted on Mon Apr 5th, 2021 @ 9:37pm by Chief Petty Officer Remal Kajun & Captain Rhenora Kaylen

Mission: *CD*
Location: USS Liberty - Holodeck
Timeline: Before Dinner

I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

They walked up to the doors for the holodeck and Remal knocked on the screen, "Computer, I need a room, empty aside from some basic club or bat style weapons and some stuff to smash."

"Please elaborate on what objects you wish to destroy." She responded as a mom who was giving toys to a toddler.

He eyed Rhenora before responding, "I think some plates, glasses and other things which shatter would be a good place to start." The computer chirped an acknowledgment and the doors opened. "After you." He indicated for her to enter first.

“ Anger management?” She quipped as she regarded her husband with a curious glare. They had never entertained the idea of therapy to deal with such a traumatic incident.

"It is completely barbaric but very fulfilling at letting go of frustration and anger." He picked a steel bat from the wall and thumbed the texture over in his hands before eyeing a plate standing upon a pedestal. Showing her how it was done, he lined up, pulled back on his swing and released, shattering the plate into a thousand shards against the wall.

She jumped at the sound, but could see the therapeutic benefits of such an act. In a controlled environment it would release all kinds of endorphins essential for dealing with trauma in a healthy way.

“Only a plate?” She raised an eyebrow, before replicating a large timber box, something that would require a little more oomph and thus more satisfaction.

“After you my dear.”

"Start small and then work our way up to a bust of your mystery men." He choked up, reeled back and followed through. The feeling of the timber box was more solid than that of the plate yet still had give. More importantly he felt the crunch as the bat struck it and the satisfaction as it flew across the room and split into pieces against the wall.

"All right, now, you." He said satisfied, placing a timber box upon the pedestal for her. He imagined it was an Orb of the Prophets within. How else would they be so cruel as to allow their home to be destroyed?

She picked up something resembling a baseball bat, its weight solid and reassuring as to its power in the right hands. Taking a few experimental swings to test before squaring up to the box on the pedestal. With a grunt that spoke of exertion mixed with emotional anger she bore the full might of her muscles combined with the bat upon the box, the object shattering in a most satisfying manner.

“ How is it that you’ve never prescribed this before?” She asked as she handed him the bat, relocating another box for him.

Without missing a beat he stepped up and struck the box, the endorphins flooding his system. "I've never been this pissed off before." He looked around for something else to break, desiring something with weight. "Besides, beats petting a tribble." He grunted as he smashed another.

Noting the role her husband was, on Rhenora created a number of items varying from small furniture to large open boxes and an old M5 computer, to religious artifacts she knew would antagonize him.

“Go for it, you need this”

In between each item, he attempted to communicate his frustrations. "They burnt our home." Swing and connect, shatter, splash against the wall, reset.

"They destroyed the flowers. Who burns flowers?" Swing, smash, crunch as the box flew away and landed several feet away.

The frustration, like his tears, were welling up inside. "They… hurt you." His bat connected with a metal piece of the artifact which he felt warp before breaking. The metal on metal strike reverberated up his arm but Newton's third law prevailed sending the artifact flying.

She left him vent, let him swing the bat and whatever it was he wanted to destroy knowing that he needed this release. It was the pent-up continual struggle they had had for years - a continuous string of attempts on their lives, of revenge and retribution on all levels.



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