Kara Arev Personal Log (Ghosts)

Posted on Tuesday October 2nd, 2018 @ 8:10am by Senior Chief Petty Officer Kara Arev

Personal log:Kara Arev
Location:Holodeck 1

So this is it, the shape of my past, my nightmares, the destiny I have fought, rendered in gory detail by the wonders of holodeck technolongy. Doomsday weapon, they called me. The doom is now theirs, though fortunately, it did not involve me bathing in a river of the bood of my enemies, the taste of the flesh of their necks fresh in my mouth... this time. Part of me barely recognizes the savage creature that I had to become these times, the monster so unthinkable that trained soldiers, knowing what I was, with all the variables in their favour, could not fathom what they faced sufficiently to be anything more than lambs for ths slaughter. I should not be here. I should be dead, or in some lab with rebel Vulcans picking over my DNA long before I even reached the Cychreides. The person I am, the person I will myself to be, should be dead. Only the monster, the predator of predators, the doomsday weapon gets to live through this. Brutal carnage is the only way through. When I look at it made manifest, it disgusts me, but there is a part of me that is fascinated... a part of me that seeks to find more efficient ways to kill, to dismember and maim.
This time, though, it was different. This time, for the first time, we repelled their boarding action, and we contained their virus. *I* fought them... my mind, my will, my focus. Is it strange to take joy in the fact that their final defeat came not at the hands of the monster that they came to harness, but the woman they wished to destroy to draw out that monster, and the crew that are the closest she has to family?
Strange or not, I hold onto that, hold onto the triumph of people over monsters. The people who made me into this, those who see that monster as their salvation, and those who salivate at the prospect of unleashing a doomsday weapon on their own people, it is they who are the real monsters.
Where does that leave me, then? Built in the image of their false god of bloody carnage.
I ... am ... Kara.
I am not my nightmares. I am not my DNA. I am not the blood on my hands.
I am Kara because I say so, and if my DNA, my past, or the very fabric of the universe screams otherwise, I will scream loudly enough to drown it out.
Why?
Because I am Kara, and I am the only bitch strong enough to wrestle this monster to its knees!
I am Kara because I will it.
Cora, End program, and end personal log.