Who I Think I Am
Dec. 20th, 2012 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinkhcTitle: Who I Think I Am
Fandom: Original Fiction - Lizards ‘verse
Series: Kat’s Therapy Journal - 19th Vallos, 5432
Prompt: Loss of Identity
Character: Katrin Micah
Medium: FIC
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 801
Summary: Onferia Historical Record: 11th Jursto 5432: Colonel Katrin Micah-Harisse, Colonel Hauck Prinz, Major Joohlie Prinz recovered by Hildarians from L’spi base encased in cryo stasis units. Joohlie Prinz was pronounced dead when the unit was opened, the others were admitted to the Medical unit at Masini Base, Dorshona.
Content Notes: No standard notes apply
19th Vallos, 5432
Subject: Puppetry
I really don’t like this project you’re making me do, Doctor Ellie. It’s bad enough when I’m sitting there and you ask me questions, but then you send me away with others and make me write you answers.
You asked who I think I am. I think the answer to that is that I don’t know anymore.
I think the last time I was certain of anything was the moment when I was shoved into the cryo unit by the L’spi soldier and they locked it down. At that moment, I was a failure. I’d failed in my mission. I had failed to evade capture. I had failed as a parent, my children would be orphans, wards of PsyCorps. And in that failure, I was free. There was nothing else I could do. It was finished, there was no fight left. Simple. Over. Done.
Then they defrosted me and pulled me out of the drifting nothing of cryo stasis. I was tossed from that peaceful non-existence back into the world. But the world had passed me by. It wasn’t my world anymore. I thought my fight was over, but I was shoved back into it.
I tried kicking and screaming but it did no good. The put me back in a uniform, decorated it with more shiny sparkly things, bumped me up two ranks and set me up to be a rallying symbol of some kind. They tried to make me a player in their puppet government.
Two decades gone. I had been a mother, but my small children were grown, strangers. I was redundant in the role. So, I’m not really a mother anymore. Away flies a big chunk of who I thought I was.
I was in a tailspin over that. I think if it hadn’t been for Cali, I might have sunken into total despair. My sweet little Cali, with her open acceptance, welcoming arms and willingness to forget the past that we never had the opportunity to share. She brought her brother and sister around, I think, brought us all closer together. She mended the family as much as it could be mended at this point in our lives. She’s always there with a ready smile and a hug. Unlike the others, she’ll come to me to talk about things, and she’s cried on my shoulder more than once. Cali makes me feel real again.
I didn’t feel real, back at Central Command, after they freed us from the cryo. I felt like a puppet. It felt wrong and fake and I couldn’t do it I had to leave. It wasn’t the Corps I had made my oath to. That was another chunk of me that was gone. The PsyOp, the soldier, the agent - whatever you choose to call what I was to our government - I wasn’t anymore, none of that.
So, I took off the fake uniform, cut the strings and tried to leave it all behind.
I never expected everyone to come with me! I never set out to lead a civil war, to go to battle with the puppet government. That wasn’t what I wanted to do.
And now, I’m stuck with the responsibility. Yes, I’m a little resentful. I didn’t like being reminded of the part of my oath that said I would protect the Ferian people. I wanted to run, I tried to run, but I didn’t get very far.
You asked me if I missed the person I used to be.
I don’t know.
Your question was who do I think I am? I can tell you who everyone else thinks I am, that’s easy enough. They all think I’m the one leading this collection of refugees, they all think I know what I’m doing because I have a little power and a little skill at tactics.
As for me, I know that I’m just a disenfranchised, displaced and quite lost soldier trying to keep her people alive. I’m only in charge because nobody of a higher rank chose to come along when I left. I curl up in my bed every night and pray that we’ll have enough food to feed everyone tomorrow, and that the weather on this strange planet doesn’t turn overnight and freeze us in our sleep.
I know the point of these entries is supposed to be to discover something, to make sense of something, but I think I’m coming away from this one even more confused and unsettled. I’m going to go and find Cali and maybe even Irene and drag them over to the commissary and see if we can’t get something sticky, gooey and unhealthy to eat. That might not be productive, but it will make me feel better.
Fandom: Original Fiction - Lizards ‘verse
Series: Kat’s Therapy Journal - 19th Vallos, 5432
Prompt: Loss of Identity
Character: Katrin Micah
Medium: FIC
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 801
Summary: Onferia Historical Record: 11th Jursto 5432: Colonel Katrin Micah-Harisse, Colonel Hauck Prinz, Major Joohlie Prinz recovered by Hildarians from L’spi base encased in cryo stasis units. Joohlie Prinz was pronounced dead when the unit was opened, the others were admitted to the Medical unit at Masini Base, Dorshona.
Content Notes: No standard notes apply
19th Vallos, 5432
Subject: Puppetry
I really don’t like this project you’re making me do, Doctor Ellie. It’s bad enough when I’m sitting there and you ask me questions, but then you send me away with others and make me write you answers.
You asked who I think I am. I think the answer to that is that I don’t know anymore.
I think the last time I was certain of anything was the moment when I was shoved into the cryo unit by the L’spi soldier and they locked it down. At that moment, I was a failure. I’d failed in my mission. I had failed to evade capture. I had failed as a parent, my children would be orphans, wards of PsyCorps. And in that failure, I was free. There was nothing else I could do. It was finished, there was no fight left. Simple. Over. Done.
Then they defrosted me and pulled me out of the drifting nothing of cryo stasis. I was tossed from that peaceful non-existence back into the world. But the world had passed me by. It wasn’t my world anymore. I thought my fight was over, but I was shoved back into it.
I tried kicking and screaming but it did no good. The put me back in a uniform, decorated it with more shiny sparkly things, bumped me up two ranks and set me up to be a rallying symbol of some kind. They tried to make me a player in their puppet government.
Two decades gone. I had been a mother, but my small children were grown, strangers. I was redundant in the role. So, I’m not really a mother anymore. Away flies a big chunk of who I thought I was.
I was in a tailspin over that. I think if it hadn’t been for Cali, I might have sunken into total despair. My sweet little Cali, with her open acceptance, welcoming arms and willingness to forget the past that we never had the opportunity to share. She brought her brother and sister around, I think, brought us all closer together. She mended the family as much as it could be mended at this point in our lives. She’s always there with a ready smile and a hug. Unlike the others, she’ll come to me to talk about things, and she’s cried on my shoulder more than once. Cali makes me feel real again.
I didn’t feel real, back at Central Command, after they freed us from the cryo. I felt like a puppet. It felt wrong and fake and I couldn’t do it I had to leave. It wasn’t the Corps I had made my oath to. That was another chunk of me that was gone. The PsyOp, the soldier, the agent - whatever you choose to call what I was to our government - I wasn’t anymore, none of that.
So, I took off the fake uniform, cut the strings and tried to leave it all behind.
I never expected everyone to come with me! I never set out to lead a civil war, to go to battle with the puppet government. That wasn’t what I wanted to do.
And now, I’m stuck with the responsibility. Yes, I’m a little resentful. I didn’t like being reminded of the part of my oath that said I would protect the Ferian people. I wanted to run, I tried to run, but I didn’t get very far.
You asked me if I missed the person I used to be.
I don’t know.
Your question was who do I think I am? I can tell you who everyone else thinks I am, that’s easy enough. They all think I’m the one leading this collection of refugees, they all think I know what I’m doing because I have a little power and a little skill at tactics.
As for me, I know that I’m just a disenfranchised, displaced and quite lost soldier trying to keep her people alive. I’m only in charge because nobody of a higher rank chose to come along when I left. I curl up in my bed every night and pray that we’ll have enough food to feed everyone tomorrow, and that the weather on this strange planet doesn’t turn overnight and freeze us in our sleep.
I know the point of these entries is supposed to be to discover something, to make sense of something, but I think I’m coming away from this one even more confused and unsettled. I’m going to go and find Cali and maybe even Irene and drag them over to the commissary and see if we can’t get something sticky, gooey and unhealthy to eat. That might not be productive, but it will make me feel better.