Si vis pacem...

Posted on Sun Jul 14th, 2019 @ 4:00am by Master Chief Petty Officer Hans-Peter König & Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov

After the briefing, König silently stood from the table and stared out the window into space while the staff filtered out of the observation lounge. He listened to the footsteps clear out of the room and, at length, he sensed that there was only one presence in the lounge standing right behind him. He had a guess about who it was.

"I should have fucking retired."

"And miss out on tormenting me one last time?" Aleksi had disposed of his plate and got two fresh coffees, holding out one to the chief, "I'm glad I have at least one rational person on this bird to talk to."

"Danke," König responded as he accepted the coffee, "I don't know if I should be grateful or worried that you think I'm sane." The Chief sipped the black, bitter liquid while staring out at the stars.

"Typical Federation," König growled, "Walk into volatile situations, waving our dicks around, feeling invincible because no one dares to mess with the great and mighty Starfleet." The Chief let out a long, labored sigh. "We're fucked."

"I said rational, not sane. A small but distinct difference," Despite missing the grand war he could in some small part relate, he had lost his best friend, his brother, in the conflict, "People forget that not too long ago that arrogance nearly cost us everything. With the Cardassians broken, the Romulans shattered, and the Klingons squabbling it might as well be the fall of the Roman Empire."

Taking a sip of the coffee, Aleksi stared out a thousand yards beyond the stars, "To most of my colleagues, adversity is downing that last shot of tequila, taking that moderately attractive Bajoran home. They don't understand the feel of a cold blade against your throat."

König continued to stare out the window, "It's been a while since I've felt that blade. I don't miss it." Silence prevailed a moment while König drank down more of the coffee.

Finally, the Chief turned Aleksi, "We're going to a warzone." König didn't need to explain to the LT what that meant: the chaos, confusion, and inevitability that someone on their side was going to get hurt, probably die. "I don't want to go."

"You know, had you told me that a year ago I wouldn't have believed you," Aleksi stared out into the expanse of space before looking back at the chief who had seemed to age ten years in the moments the meeting had ended, "Now though, now I understand it. I suppose I still have some fire in my belly, perhaps its a realization that in the end I have nothing to return to, well, nothing I care about."

"And what would we be fighting for if we did have something to go home to? Their safety? Their prosperity? Peace of mind?" König returned his gaze out the window, "What gives anyone the right to safety? You put down one threat and there will always be another. You'll never be rid of them and, in the end, we all die anyway."

"Nothing, beyond us that is," Sipping his coffee, the intelligence officer looked back into the room, his back against the window, "We sacrifice our right to all of that for them. You're correct, there will never be true peace. For the average citizen though the facade of peace is all they have to look forward to, the only thing keeping their world together."

"I could be back on Earth right now, serving wine to overly pretentious snobs while bedding the trophy wives of men too rich and too powerful. It would have been a nicer existence than living as the man who killed a fellow officer," Aleksi chuckled, "Do you know why I chose to stay in?"

König drew another sip of the coffee. There wasn't much left in the cup, just barely enough to cover the bottom. The greater surface area of the body of the liquid had caused it to go cold. Cold coffee always seemed to König to have a more pronounced and bitter aftertaste. He responded to Aleksi without taking his gaze from space, "Why is that?"

"An explosion on Theta III, an out of the way colony on the Gorn border. The news was covering it, a typical blink and you miss it story," The officer let out a long sigh as he unconsciously tapped his mug, "30 dead, three to four times as many wounded. The bomb was hidden in a supply shuttle, packed stem to stern with all sorts of building materials," He didn't have to describe to the old timer the sort of damage an improvised claymore could do.

"The other patrons in the Monte Carlo's bar couldn't care less, it was a border world after all," He laughed, holding up his hand, "I had the key to that woman's yacht right in my hand. I could have told Commodore Polk that I was resigning that night and spent my days as some rich woman's play thing. But that wasn't where I belonged, I was supposed to be out on the line preventing the deaths of children too young to understand what evil is."

"Men like you, creatures like me, we're not meant to enjoy life the way others are," Draining his cup of the now cool coffee, he motioned to the table, "Hell, the way most of these folks do. We drew the short straw, because we're the ones who are capable of handling that burden. We see reality for what it is in all its naked brutality, we see it so others don't have to."

Under his breath, the Chief muttered three words in a long-dead language before knocking back the rest of his coffee, "Si vis pacem..."

"Para bellum," Standing up, Aleksi headed to the replicator to dispose of his mug, "And indeed we will Chief."

=/\=

Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Astraea

&

Master Chief Petty Officer Hans-Peter König
Chief of the Boat
USS Astraea