DAY 06: Good Old Times [2100 hrs.] September 07, 2016, 11:38:35 AM DAY 06: Good Old Times [2100 hrs.][ USS Theurgy | Spearhead Lounge | Deck 14 ] Attn: AristaWhile Below Decks was for everyone, the Spearhead Lounge was for senior officers, ranking Lieutenant or higher. Most often, it wasn't in use, the holographic personnel in the lounge only activated when there were guests present. It seemed, however, that with the pending arrival to Starbase 84 the next day, some officers had taken their time for one last drink. After the end of alpha-shift, Below Decks would likely be teeming with people, just like the other lounges aboard, but the Spearhead Lounge retained an halcyon atmosphere, with its minimalist decor and Starfleet tapestries along the bulkheads. The sense of grandness was, of course, a bit tarnished considering the fact that Starfleet remained their adversary. At least until Captain Ives gained some allies in the fleet. Which might just be a bit harder than he'd think...The main reason why Lucan had come at all was the panoramic observation deck, slightly elevated from the rest of the lounge. As its name implied, located at fore of the multivector dreadnought, the view whilst the ship was at warp was exquisite. The play of light from streaming stars whisking by, it ran across the interior of the lounge as well as Lucan's uniform - the suffocating garments he hoped to one day burn. He had loosened his teal collar, at least, and he was reaching down to remove his shoes and his socks, wanting to be barefoot as he mused on the day to come, and what had to be done. Relieved of the leather contraptions that the fleet had forced him to wear, he took a deep breath and enjoyed the sensation of the carpet underneath his bared feet - feeling like he was twenty and one and watching the vista of the cloud-scape below Envon. He stood not on a barren mountainside, feeling the stone against his skin, but the sensation of scope remained the same from within the Theurgy's warp field.By the winds, I never thought they'd get this far, came a sudden thought as he watched the streaming stars. Then again, I suppose I have aided them a bit too much in getting to this point. I could have taken a back-seat role, doing only so much as was expected of me, and devoting my time to compromising their foolish attempts... But where would I have ended up then? Less favoured. Less trusted. Perhaps even discovered to be what I am, sharing the fate of Ensign Acreth. No, it was never an option to be anything less than I was... lest I would've been unable to do what I have just done.He told himself his mind was at ease, and that there was no inflection of doubt - the thing inside at peace. Yet somehow, something... kept questioning what his own priorities were, what part of the design was truly his own, and how much responsibility lay at the feet of his kin. Like a splinter in his mind, a suppurating wound refusing all treatment, questions kept bubbling up, about himself in all his actions, and not just in terms of healthy self-assessment and awareness, his immaculate control... but in undeniable self-reproach. Scepticism to his faceted cause. Still. After all the trials he'd endured, and all the people he'd killed... he could not stop doubting himself.Such was not the case with Ensign Acreth. There was no doubt left in her. In his charade of experiments to find means to identify his own kin, he saw it in her eyes. There was nothing left of what had possessed that skin-puppet before. She was gone entirely, smothered by the will of the parasite. Perhaps... perhaps that was his fear: Simple refusal to surrender himself completely. A shard of survival-instinct still alive, even though he knew he had to surrender some day, when his role as a orderly host had served its cause. It was - after all - his purpose as a host, to add just enough order to serve the nameless darkness.And just like that, the thought fell behind him - lost among the stars they passed. He just couldn't retain his doubt long enough to act on it. He knew it, at some level, yet he knew not what to do about it - the will to act on the fickle idea whisking past like one of the shooting stars. He had a purpose, and that was good enough. At least most of the time...Hearing someone wearing shoes step up on the observation deck behind him, Lucan turned his head, seeing someone returned from the dead."Cinn," he said simply in greeting, a smile touching the side of his face. Meanwhile, the beast bared its teeth, murder on its mind.