#47 Self Control

Posted on Wed Jun 19th, 2024 @ 12:47pm by Captain Tore Bjorgo

Mission: TALES FROM THE MIDDLE STARS
Location: USS NAZGUL
Timeline: Current

ON:

While the USS Nazgul plowed through the reaches of space at a casual warp four, Captain Tore Bjorgo was in the ready room. Being a large, open space in and of itself, despite the furnishings and work areas, it did provide enough space for one to practice martial arts or melee. Currently, Tore had the music of Basil Poledouris playing, a piece from the film Conan the Barbarian called The Battle of the Mounds Pt. 1. Using his Romulan teral'n and his own martial arts combinations he went through thrusts, parries, and numerous katas. His shirts were off and he did perspire lightly as he went through his workout and practice. Bjorgo was no stranger to combat and this was his way of keeping the beast of his inner soul at bay. As an augment he had a dreadful amount of pride and arrogance; a narcissist. It had taken a great amount of willpower, and time, for him to curb that part of himself.

Knowing his bloodlust was not easily quelled, Tore did this exercise on a daily basis when he could. Here was where he let those aggressive feelings out and crushed the holographic enemies before him. Even the programming for his private exercise sessions had a great amount of blood letting, with spatters, pools, and rooms slaked with the liquid of life. It was a must, had to be done, to curb his innate need to kill and conquer. If his crew only knew the lengths he went to to keep them safe from not only outsiders, but beings like himself. The music flowed into the piece called: RIDDLE OF STEEL/RIDERS OF DOOM and Tore ordered it louder, his mind going deep into his combat maneuvering. When the notes hit a high he then attacked without mercy. Hack, slash, bludgeon, stab. Over and over again he did this, his face twisted into an evil grin as he shredded one opponent after another, covered in their blood not his own.

The music came to an end and Bjorgo was left standing there with arms hanging at his sides, feet shoulder width apart, and his chin dropped as his eyes looked to the floor. It was covered in the holographic blood, his enemies lying about him after he had crushed them completely and wore the ichor of their life upon his person. His right hand held his teral'n, blades extended, dripping with blood and ichor. With a final breath taken in and released Tore angled his face upwards. "Computer, end program."

Within moments all the blood, death, and carnage was evaporated, to be replaced by the ever-clean and pristine interior of the Ready Room. Having cooled down sufficiently Tore took the teral'n to its place behind his desk chair and hung it back on the wall, then took up his shirts and put them back on, adjusting and tucking where needed to look prim and proper. He finger combed his hair back a few times, checked himself in the mirror and seeing he looked just fine, exited his office and headed for the turbolift for a walk around the ship.

OFF: