Post by Commander Tiberius Asada on Mar 26, 2017 18:35:15 GMT -5
Commander Asada looked at the Cardassian, who was approaching the table in the Commander's spacious quarters. In his hands was a tray, containing two plates of breakfast; eggs and hashbrowns, to be specific. In the back of the room, a shadowy figure leaned against the wall and lit a menthol cigarette, inhaling deeply while watching the spectacle.
Asada looked over the Cardassian with a critical eye. No, the build wasn't right. He wasn't tall enough. And he wasn't muscular enough. He just wasn't similar to Tolar. The Commander sighed as the Cardassian put the plate down in front of Tiberius, and took his own seat. The Cardassian smiled; that kind of dreamy smile that meant Tiberius had a full psychic hold on this guy. But even that was disappointing - at least Tolar fought back!
Just to be fair, the Commander tasted the hashbrowns. No, it was nothing like what Tolar could cook up. He shook his head and looked at the Cardassian.
"You know, Tolar..." Asada spoke -- the Cardassian responded to the name even if it wasn't his own. "I don't think this will work out."
The Cardassian frowned. "Why's that? Did I do something wrong?"
Asada scooted his chair back and stood up, walking behind the Cardassian. "No, Tolar. It wasn't your fault." He responded.
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" The Cardassian asked while Asada wrapped one hand under his jaw and placed the other behind his head.
"No, not really." The Commander spoke flatly as his eyes flashed silver, summoning the strength required to snap the Cardassian's rigid neck with one easy twist. The Cardassian's face fell flat into the plate in front of him. A fork clattered to the floor, ringing out.... followed by a few moments of silence.
It was then that the shadowy figure talked between drags on his cigarette. "What, you didn't like this one?"
Asada gingerly circled the table and walked up to him. "Deacon, it's just not the same as the real Tolar. The real Tolar fought back. The real Tolar could make a goddamn plate of hash browns, too!"
Vic sighed. "I can get you another one if you want."
Asada nodded. "Okay, we'll try it one last time. Did you make sure the flowers were delivered?"
Victor nodded. "They ended up where they needed to be. Tell me, do you enjoy messing with these people?"
The Commander shrugged. "It bugs me that there's an evil version of myself running around out there." He motioned toward the door; Victor fell into line and followed him into the hall.
"You should watch out." Victor spoke in a hushed voice. "Don't mess around too much with that Universe. You might piss off the Administrator; and trust me, she's not..." Tiberius cut him off.
"You worry too much, Deacon! I know what I'm doing. The Administrator is smart, for sure, but my tactical mind is just... something nobody else has, you know." He began talking progressively faster and faster as he gesticulated. "I always make the right call, Deacon. Always. That's something you need to remember!" He poked Vic in the chest a little too aggressively as Vic did his best to act like it didn't bother him.
"What's that song you love, Vic?" Asada asked, still speaking wildly. "How does it go? I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway..." Asada approached the Turbolift. "And much, much more than this..."
He stood in the turbolift, as Victor stayed outside. Just as the turbolift doors closed, Asada got off the last line: "I did it my way!"
Victor sighed and leaned against the wall. He was working for a maniac.
Asada looked over the Cardassian with a critical eye. No, the build wasn't right. He wasn't tall enough. And he wasn't muscular enough. He just wasn't similar to Tolar. The Commander sighed as the Cardassian put the plate down in front of Tiberius, and took his own seat. The Cardassian smiled; that kind of dreamy smile that meant Tiberius had a full psychic hold on this guy. But even that was disappointing - at least Tolar fought back!
Just to be fair, the Commander tasted the hashbrowns. No, it was nothing like what Tolar could cook up. He shook his head and looked at the Cardassian.
"You know, Tolar..." Asada spoke -- the Cardassian responded to the name even if it wasn't his own. "I don't think this will work out."
The Cardassian frowned. "Why's that? Did I do something wrong?"
Asada scooted his chair back and stood up, walking behind the Cardassian. "No, Tolar. It wasn't your fault." He responded.
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" The Cardassian asked while Asada wrapped one hand under his jaw and placed the other behind his head.
"No, not really." The Commander spoke flatly as his eyes flashed silver, summoning the strength required to snap the Cardassian's rigid neck with one easy twist. The Cardassian's face fell flat into the plate in front of him. A fork clattered to the floor, ringing out.... followed by a few moments of silence.
It was then that the shadowy figure talked between drags on his cigarette. "What, you didn't like this one?"
Asada gingerly circled the table and walked up to him. "Deacon, it's just not the same as the real Tolar. The real Tolar fought back. The real Tolar could make a goddamn plate of hash browns, too!"
Vic sighed. "I can get you another one if you want."
Asada nodded. "Okay, we'll try it one last time. Did you make sure the flowers were delivered?"
Victor nodded. "They ended up where they needed to be. Tell me, do you enjoy messing with these people?"
The Commander shrugged. "It bugs me that there's an evil version of myself running around out there." He motioned toward the door; Victor fell into line and followed him into the hall.
"You should watch out." Victor spoke in a hushed voice. "Don't mess around too much with that Universe. You might piss off the Administrator; and trust me, she's not..." Tiberius cut him off.
"You worry too much, Deacon! I know what I'm doing. The Administrator is smart, for sure, but my tactical mind is just... something nobody else has, you know." He began talking progressively faster and faster as he gesticulated. "I always make the right call, Deacon. Always. That's something you need to remember!" He poked Vic in the chest a little too aggressively as Vic did his best to act like it didn't bother him.
"What's that song you love, Vic?" Asada asked, still speaking wildly. "How does it go? I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway..." Asada approached the Turbolift. "And much, much more than this..."
He stood in the turbolift, as Victor stayed outside. Just as the turbolift doors closed, Asada got off the last line: "I did it my way!"
Victor sighed and leaned against the wall. He was working for a maniac.