The Captain paced in her Library, a sense of dread creeping through every fiber her of being, every cell. It was often times of great worry that she found herself pacing these shelves, among books both old and new, the musty smell soothing and calming to her mind. She had an uneasy feeling, a feeling so unsettling it was something otherworldly, something the Time Lord herself had never faced in any of her travels.
The feeling was something the Captain could not put a finger on, yet it was there, almost as if under a perception filter, yet she was aware of it's constant nagging on her subconscious. To give into it would be pure bliss, yet she could sense it would have dire and possibly even dangerous consequences if she did so. Yet what those were remained a mystery, and she planned to keep it that way so long as her morals stood intact, without the slightest falter.
Was it that same sense of self-justice that prevented it, or that encouraged it?
Surely it was the disturbed for