From the Personal Journal of Vindex—-
--Nothin’ but Time to Kill——-
You know….I thought I hated the Starport more than anything in this fraktastic ‘Verse. Apparently I was wrong.
I’m currently scribbling this on a bit o’ bum paper I found in my first cell. I’ll copy it to my slate later….assuming there is a later. So as the earlier sentence suggested I’m in jail, well the brig, to be more precise. Wouldn’t want Sciinter lecturing me again on why the fate of the universe hinges on accurate Data…that 3 hours of my life I’ll never see again.
Given my profession you’d think I’d be used to prison cells. You’d be wrong. Before this I could just shoot whoever they sent after me. Frakkin Inquisitorial mandate. I could kill these idiot guards with a well-aimed paper clip…but Nooo. Stay in your cell Dex. Don’t endanger the mission Dex. Play with your yourself Dex. Being disarmed and useless would be bad enough but the bastards are making me sit here and wait, and wait, oh hold on…..nope… wait some more. They think their letting me stew. Frakkers don’t know that I was raised by one of the best Snipers the Guard has ever seen. Burge taught me a trick for those long ops. The ones where you stay motionless, sometimes for days. The trick is you run the kill though your mind, every detail, every motion, every breath, again, and again. Sometimes I break the repetition by reliving past jobs, the hunt, stalking the prey, and finally the slow strain on the trigger till the bolt snaps forward. If you do it right I comes as much of a surprise for you as the target. They want me to stew, my team wants to leave me to it. Fine. I can be patient. Every time I run it in my head I come a little closer to perfection. Breathe in….. Breathe out slow, Squeeeeeeeeeze…. SNAP. Another soul for the Emperor. Heh, I’ve got nothing but Time to Kill. For now any way…