Tranquility Assunder
Where space and time do meet, so may death, with life.
Caleb Thorne, young by the standards of the old but old by the standards of the young, stood upon the holodeck of tranquility. His hair slick, pant’s sticking to his skin. His bare chest thudded rythmically against his breathing. Material like wire wove around Caleb Thorne’s body. It provided feeling, it hugged him like a tattoo.