SIM:Kevin Breeman - Faces

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Kevin Breeman

Summary

Seated in an inactive shuttlecraft in the shuttlebay, Kevin remembers events from his childhood.

Sim

((Shuttlebay - USS Independence-A))

::Kevin tapped his combadge and Rogers answered. After Kevin had reported his location, Rogers said,::

Rogers: Are you injured ?

::He felt okay. He was still recovering mentally from the strange experience.::

Breeman: No, sir.

Rogers: Understood standby while I verify your location Lt. ::There was a pause.:: You are in the shuttle bay Lt. Hold you position for the moment.

::Kevin nodded and walked toward the shuttle craft. Something was drawing him there.::

Breeman: Aye sir.

::He entered the craft through the aft hatch and sat down in the pilot's seat. Strange thoughts were entering his mind. Calm down, the reassuring voice he'd first encountered in the white void on AX-47 said, let it all come.

What was he to allow to come? Just let the thoughts come and go. The control panel was black, reflecting his green eyes and pensive countenance back at him. He registered only the human face, not the emotion. This was curiosity. It was curiosity not because he saw it expressed in front of him but because he, the owner of the face, felt it.

((Flashback - Toronto, Canada, Earth, 21 years ago))

::Seated on his bed, Kevin stared down at the book in front of him. The picture of the pulley system elicited an excitement in him that few other things did. The gears that interacted with the pulleys that in turn drove other gears were an infinitely fascinating and pleasurable thing.

His hands left his lap and flapped with excitement and pleasure. Driven by the wrists that turned back and forth, his hands looked almost like spinning propellers on an ancient Terran airplane. This made him flap them even faster.

The door opened and Mom said,::

Jan Breeman: Kevin. Kevin?

::The boy looked up at her as she stood there in the doorway.::

Jan Breeman: I need you not to do that, okay?

::He stopped flapping his hands::

Kevin: Okay, Mom.

Jan Breeman: It's time for bed now.

((Present))

::Over the months he had trained himself not to flap his hands when he was interested in something or when something excited him. With time he learned to walk fast instead, his head down in concentration and his shoulders hunched. The thought energy had to escape somehow and he wasn't allowed to flap his hands.

The face still stared back at him, now that of an adult man seated at the controls of a shuttlecraft. He felt a bizarre urge he hadn't felt in years. He wanted to jump up and down or flap his hands as he contemplated the intricate workings of the warp core inside the craft's engines or the inter-relations between the LCARS client and its data link with the USS Independence-A's main computer.

The letter entered his mind again. "I don't know what it is, Mom. It's like service entails some element of interaction with which I am fundamentally unfamiliar. My academy days were filled with trite encounters with girls who'd call me a geek and guys who would see something odd in me. But here...Maybe I just haven't grown up yet."

::His combadge chirped.::

Anyone: Dialogue?

Commentary

This sim develops certain curious attributes of Kevin Breeman's childhood.

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