Commander Abrams, originally, was intended to be an Ally to Captain Hane in the story, but through his actions, it became clear, quite quickly, that he was destined to be a villain. Abrams is suave, on-point all the time, cool…and unstable. Like Hane, he wants to save what’s left of humanity, but he’s willing to throw away the safety of the galaxy, and sacrifice anything (or anyone) who gets in the way of that. Here is he, the determined, the debonair, the destructive Commander Abrams.
What About Now? - Commander Abrams - First Appeared in Lonely Moon
Me: Hello there, Commander. I’d like to thank you for coming by and talking to us today. Must have been quite the trip.
Abrams: It’s my pleasure and, yes, Mr. Saxsma, it was a very, very long way, but, I’m here, so, shall we?
Me: I just want to say one thing before we get started. This might make me sound EXTRA geeky, but I just want to throw it out there. Your appearance, when I saw you in my head, when I first started writing you, was based off Grand Admiral Thrawn from the Star Wars series of novels, except you’re not blue.
Abrams: I do not know, nor do I care, who that is. The questions, Mr. Saxsma? We call can’t sit and write our lives away, can we?
Me: Alright, alright. Why don’t we start off with a little bit about yourself? Let people through that well-manicured exterior.
Abrams: You know me too well, Mr. Saxsma. I relish any chance to gloat about myself, and, well played, may I say. I was born outside of Kansas City, in Chatham. It’s tiny, even in an age where cities are stretching into the skies, we still had fossil-fueled transports. There were even old cell phone towers outside of town we used to play on when we were kids. Well, I never got to play, but I would see the children there, climbing and jumping around the interlacing bars. When I was six, my father volunteered me for the Junior Cadets. I remember my mother didn’t want me to go. She cried and cried, but my father, he saw it as a first step toward something bigger, something more important than playing on some stupid cell phone tower. He knew, the way I know now.
Me: And what would that be? What is it that you know now?
Abrams: Those kids, the ones who played on the cell phone tower, they were all killed when it collapsed the summer after I was sent away. Not a single one survived. What does that tell you?
Me: Well, it’s horrible, first and foremost. What else should it tell me?
Abrams: (laughs) I’m destined to achieve so much more. So much more! Had I wasted my time, had I not garnered the focus and foresight of my father, I would not be sitting with you, now, having this conversation. Destiny chose me, and I gratefully accept her hand, leading me to some eventuality, some climactic event that will change the very way we perceive our galaxy. I’m well on my way there, though I do not know that is. I can feel it, the way you can sometimes feel your heartbeat, pounding behind your eyes, or the way you know what room you’re in, though your home is pitch black.
Me: So, you’ve been in military service since you were six years old?
Me: What was that like? Growing up around the violence couldn’t have been easy?
Abrams: Easy? No. Necessary? Absolutely. On my breast, you’re readers cannot see them, but I have seven ranking medals. I aced every test, defeated all competition. The military took some sniveling little six year old, some pathetic child from a small, inescapable town, and shaped him, molded him into what you see before you. You are correct, it was NOT easy, but as I said, it WAS necessary. I shudder to think, had I not escaped that shithole, what meaningless drivel of a life I’d be leading. I command a battleship the size of Trump Tower, with thirteen hundred people under my direct authority, and not one of them would dare speak out of turn. Tell me, Mr. Saxsma, have you ever commanded such authority, such discipline? Have you ever cared enough to? No, I think not, I can see it on your face.
Me: Okay…Name one moment in your life that defined you…
Abrams: (Silent for a moment) When I was twelve, I had just been transferred to Fort Mason-Burns, a sprawling barracks and facility on the outskirts of Sacramento. Was supposedly the forefront training camp for ‘rising stars’. Admirals like Reese and Rear Admiral Wilkes, all got their starts there. It’s churned out more generals than West Point. The first day I stepped off the shuttle, in fact, it was right after that, I was jumped by two boys. I can’t remember their names. It’s not important. But, as soon as they were done, leaving my bloodied and bruised, a broken wrist, it was clear. I was a threat, competition. A few weeks passed, and it happened again. They re-broke the wrist that’d healed, only this time, the broke a few fingers too, just for shits. It’s funny, I don’t remember even crying at all. Anyway, one day, at lunch, I spiked both of their drinks with arsenic, enough to knock an elephant onto his ass. They were rushed to the infirmary. One of them didn’t make it. The other lived, with slight brain damage. You can bet your ass, Mr. Saxsma, no so much as spoke ill of me after that.
Me: Why would you kill them?
Abrams: Why? (confused) What else would I have done?
Me: It’s sad you can’t even see that as wrong.
Abrams: You’re confusing right and wrong with efficiency. If something will fix the problem, permanently, what’s the issue? Those boys will never mess with anyone again, I promise you that (laughs).
Me: Alright, I think that about wraps up this interview.
Abrams: You probed, Mr. Saxsma. It’s not my fault you didn’t like what you found. I do hope we run into one another, soon (smiles)
Me: Not likely. I know what happens to you. Thanks for reading this VILLAIN edition of What About Now? Don’t forget to follow me on Twitter - @andrew8654 for updates and behind the scenes fun-stuff.