S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC
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Posted on Wednesday June 10th, 2020 @ 15:50 hours by Mark Cross

Mission: Safe Passage
Location: Spacedock
Timeline: Current

Mark pulled the black sweatshirt he'd purchased over himself as fast as humanly possible, which was made all the more difficult by his haste. After he'd finally got the thing in position, he lifted the hood up to obscure as much of himself as he could. Even without his comm badge, which he'd swiftly dispatched some several stops ago to throw any potential trackers off the scent, the black, grey and green of his upper-body attire screamed Starfleet Marine Corps. That wasn't a good look in a lot of places at the best of times, and given the manner of which he'd abandoned his post, his former superiors were also likely keen to have a conversation with him about his conduct.

To best describe his situation, there was a six-letter word. It started with "f" and it ended with "ked". A Starfleet blue-chipper, both parents in Command positions, his future career was practically assured. Then he threw it away, following his heart, for a girl. He went on the promise of a glowing recommendation from a high-ranking Marine, which would have stood him in good stead when he went back the other way, to resume his career in Starfleet. It almost definitely would have elevated him a couple of rungs up the ladder as far as rank went. A couple of steps closer to holding his own command, the ultimate goal.

Instead, that high-ranking Marine saw his decision to move on as almost treasonous, even though their relationship had grown increasingly negative, toxic, and in it's latest turn of events. They'd fallen out of love with each other somewhere along the line, if they ever were, and it was turning him into something he hated. No matter the cost, it was time to get out.

The problem of course was his parents, and what it would mean for them if the classified records of what their son, along with the rest of his unit, had been doing in the name of the United Federation of Planets. I mean...sometimes you needed a few guys to do the dirty work right?

While his disappearance would probably concern them both, they knew their son was practical, resourceful, and quite capable of looking after himself, even without an extended time in the military. They also likely figured, that while they would always be on hand to help him out of a jam, he'd probably go solo. In part to protect them, but largely out of sheer bullish pride.

He would try and let them know he was safe of course, privately, securely, when he found the means to do so, but for now the plan was to keep moving. Even just taking the Alpha quadrant alone, it was a pretty vast place, and relatively easy to get lost in, especially if you kept yourself in the company of those who probably have far more to hide than you do.

Now Mark planned to get his hands dirty in a wholly different way. Private contracts, civilian controlled vessels, largely manual labour. Generally a few questions asked environment, if you worked hard, pulled your weight, keep your head down, you had a bunk to rest your head, hot food to eat, no matter how shoddy, and you would stay on the move.

The S.S. Fawkes would be his flight to freedom. There was no real thought process in the choice, which vessels need labour and which one is leaving soonest? Done, sign me up. His thumb pressed to the PADD so fast it nearly knocked it out of the recruiter's hands, and less than two hours after arriving at the space dock, he would be on his way again.

Now he just had to remember not to get too comfortable...and if this whole ordeal had taught him absolutely nothing up to now, do NOT catch feelings for anyone.

Mark found a dark alcove to slink into while he waited for the Fawkes to be ready for boarding. The time would be short, but with him in a constant state of high-alert, every passing minute seemed harrowing.


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