Chapter Two – Boothby
He sat up abruptly, heart racing, drenched in sweat. The cool darkness of his bedroom washed over him as he realized it was the same nightmare again. Gasping for breath, he called for half illumination. Throwing back the covers, he stumbled out of bed and went to the sink. Trembling hands splashed water on his face. Cupping his hands, he drank greedily as he tried to clear his mind. This was the third time in the past two weeks that he had awakened from this nightmare. Dark eyes, wide with fear stared back at him from the mirror. He looked at the chronometer next to the bed. 04:30, too late to try to go back to sleep.
After a quick shower, he replicated a cup of tea and sipped it slowly as he dressed. Slipping out of his quarters, he headed for the Academy.
The sun was just coming over the edge of the gardens as he approached the railing overlooking the bay. The waters always calmed him, but not today. His mind was troubled by the events on his home planet and Starfleet's response. His people were in danger and they were not being protected. He was torn between loyalty to Starfleet and fear for his family's safety.
Walking along the path, he spotted the elderly gardener weeding one of the plots. Slowing down, he admired the colors of the different plants. He didn't realize that the gardener had stopped and was looking up at him until the man spoke.
"What's troubling you son?" Boothby asked in a soft voice.
"Is it that obvious?" He answered.
"Why, anyone could take one look at your face and posture at this early hour and know that the weight of the world was on your shoulders. I'm here if you want to talk about it, son." Boothby replied with a gentle look on his face.
"Thanks but I can't talk about it now." He shook his head and turned away. I can't talk about it yet to anyone. Entering the dark building, he headed for his office. He punched in his code and the door slid open quietly. He sat at his desk and reviewed the notes for his first class in Advanced Tactical Training. These kids were bright, most of them were from off world, and he struggled to stay one step ahead of them with his reading. He looked through his mail and discovered another notice about an archeological dig on Vulcan. The second semester had just started and he couldn't take time off now, although sometimes he felt that he should just quit Starfleet to spend time on the digs.
The sun was setting over the bay as he left the Academy and headed for home. Boothby was watering the new plants as he passed and gave him a nod. He smiled at the old man and continued on his way. The wind was brisk and he wished he had thought to bring a coat with him. He shivered at the memory of this morning and awakening from the nightmare. What did it mean? Why was he having the same dream and why were they chasing him? They were Cardassians. That much he remembered. That and the sheer terror he felt when he awoke.
tbc…