USS
Galaxy:The Next Generation Sim Log Stardate: 50301.01 - 50301.08 |
****
So’ka froze, the scene arrayed in front of him inside the Observation Lounge too bizarre to comprehend at first glance. Behind him, Cutter moved up, stopping to prevent himself from running into the security man, looking over his shoulder in horror.
Lt. Marsh and Ensign Hanley were hanging on the wall opposite the observation window, pinned in x-shapes by what appeared to be extruded loops of the wall’s metal itself. Both men appeared to be unconscious, and both showed signs of having received a severe beating.
The furniture in the lounge had all been pushed to the sides except for a single large table in the center of the room, on which Lt’ O’Rourke was trapped in a similar fashion to Marsh and Hanley. Unlike them, however, she wore only the tunic and pants she’d had on beneath her EVA suit, the remains of which lay scattered around the table, having apparently been cut off of her. Also unlike Marsh and Hanley she was conscious – and screaming.
The cause of her screams appeared to be Victor Krieghoff, who was kissing her, and whose hands were moving over her in a fashion that left little doubt what his intentions were once the kiss terminated. He was wearing a full uniform, neatly pressed, and appeared oblivious to their presence.
Completing the bizarre tableau was the reflection of the scene in the observation window that acted as one wall of the lounge. Instead of showing the scene in reverse, it showed something else entirely: there was no reflection of Victor as he bent over O’Rourke, although every other element of the scene was reflected there. Instead, the image of Victor in the mirror, clad similarly to O’Rourke in the garments he’d worn under his EVA suit, was tearing at the inner surface of the glass with his bare hands, his face a feral mask of rage that bore little resemblance to the man So’ka knew. Incredibly, the surface had given under the pressure of those hands, had stretched like taffy, turning white and trembling as it strove to resist the pressure he was putting on it.
“What?” So’ka had time to breathe, eyes cutting from one Victor to the other. Behind him, he heard Cutter take a single gasping breath and whisper “Ka!” as they stood, frozen, the single instant stretching out impossibly long.
Then, cutting through O’Rourke’s cries, there was a single, tinkling sound, like a lone cube of ice falling into fine crystal… and the tableau broke.
The observation window shattered, blowing out into the room as if something had been thrown through it at high speed. The shards of glass sprayed out into the air, moving more slowly than they should have been as the figure of Victor that had been behind them came through into the room in a movement that was part leap and part dive. His hands reached for his counterpart in the center of the room, as he let cry an animalistic snarl.
The second Victor looked up, face distorted inhumanly by an impossibly wide mouth and a look of surprise, starting to turn and face its counterpart. As he rotated, he caught sight of the two men in the doorway and hesitated for a fraction of an instant, as if surprised to see them – and that was all it took for the other Victor to reach him.
With the snarl still echoing in the room, the Victor from within the window crashed into his duplicate and carried him off the table and away from O’Rourke. The two men were lost to sight behind the solid mass of the table as they fell from view, the sounds of a struggle beginning instantly.
O’Rourke’s cries changed instantly as she realized something had happened to remove her assailant. Her struggles to escape redoubled as she looked around fearfully, frantically. “So’ka?” she gasped, sighting the two in the doorway. “Help me!” She jerked at her bonds, and pleaded, “Please!”
“I…” ~ What do I… help her. Of course. I help her. ~ Stepping into the room, he stopped, transfixed, as he realized that the glass shards were still hanging in the air – and that the window was still whole. “How…?” he breathed.
Cutter, unwilling to be left in the hallway alone, followed the ensign into the lounge, despite the fears that he felt about confronting either of the two Victors he’s seen an instant before. His eyes too, were caught by the spectacle of the shimmering cloud of glass that was hanging in midair – and not glass at all.
The shards hung in place for a single heartbeat more – and them in a tinkling rush spun end-over-end and rushed back to their original places, filling in a window that wasn’t broken like a self-assembling puzzle until they were lost in the unbroken expanse that had been there all along.
“Ka,” Cutter breathed again, softly – and then jerked his head around as the sounds of the struggle on the other side of the table attracted his attention and brought his fears back to him.
“Here,” So’ka said as he thrust a tricorder at Cutter and releasing it. The instrument fell to the floor as Cutter failed to try and catch it, but the security officer didn’t turn around as he started forward. “Figure out which one of them is the real one.”
Cutter looked down at the tricorder at his feet, oblivious to the sounds around him. He failed at everything else he tried to do on this ship, the water on deck 4, the fire on deck 3, the jungle and Zan, nothing made sense to him anymore. His mind seemed useless, and now he was supposed to figure which of the identical Victor's was real?
****
O’Rourke jerked at her restraints again, drawing blood from one of her wrists this time. Ignoring the pain, she jerked again, desperate to get away, to not be there when the winner of the battle behind the table stood up. ~ Get away, got to get away. Get away from him. ~
Movement to her side caused her head to snap in that direction, mouth already opening to scream when she realized it was So’ka and not one of the Victors that stood there. “Please,” she whispered past her tears, hating that she was begging and he saw her like this and desperate for his help to escape at the same time. “Please.”
So’ka didn’t reply, just lifted his phaser, made an adjustment, and sliced through one of the bands holding her down.
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you.” Not even aware of the words falling from her lips, O’Rourke trembled as he cut her free with three more deft shots and clung to him desperately, still whispering thanks, as he drew her off the table and back towards the door.
“It’s all right, Lieutenant,” So’ka said soothingly. “You’re free.” He cut his eyes back towards the sounds of the struggle on the other side of the table. “I need your help ma’am – we’ve got to stop that thing before it can turn on us again.”
“Thing…?” Thoughts whirling, O’Rourke followed his eyes. “Thing… yes, stop it. Kill it. We have to kill it.” ~ Kill him. If I kill him, I’ll be free. I have to kill Krieghoff…. ~
So’ka nodded. “Yes, ma’am, we’ll stop it.” He turned, frowning when he saw Cutter standing there and the tricorder he’d tried to hand him on the deck at his feet. “Lieutenant? Sir? Are you all right? Did you find anything?”
Cutter didn’t respond until the ensign repeated his question a second time, only then turning his head to look in So’ka’s direction blankly.
“Sir?” So’ka repeated, but got no answer. He let go of O’Rourke who swayed once and then caught herself. “Lieutenant?” Moving closer to Cutter, So’ka bent down and picked up the tricorder, lifting it up to press against Cutter’s hands. “We need your help, sir,” he said urgently. “Please?”
When that got no response, So’ka leaned closer. “Sir,” he said, more sharply. “You *have* to help us. We’ve got to find a way to stop that thing, and you’re the best chance we have. I’m not a scientist, and neither is Lieutenant O’Rourke.”
“I… can’t.” Cutter looked away. “I can’t…It’s useless.”
So’ka blinked once, then shook his head. “No it isn’t. Quitting is useless. Cowards quit, sir. That’s why we have to try – as long as we’re trying, we’re not cowards. Even if we fail, that won’t be said of us. But we have to *try* first.”
Cutter shook his head. No, I…”
So’ka reached out, taking him by the shoulders. “No, sir.” His voice was firm. “We have to try. If we don’t help him, it’s going to kill the Lieutenant, and then come after us again. Do you understand? We have to stop it, or we’ll be back to being nothing more than its playthings. You have to help.” He thrust the tricorder into Cutter’s hands. “Find us a way – quickly.”
Cutter looked back at the ensign, then at the tricorder. "I … all right.” His hands lifted the device, making adjustments reflexively. “I … I’ll try.”
“Good,” So’ka nodded. “You can do this, sir. I believe you can.”
Cutter nodded once, then turned his attention to the tricorder and the information it was starting to display as the ensign moved back to check on O’Rourke.
“Ma’am?” So’ka asked, touching O’Rourke on the arm. “I’m going to need your help, we don’t have much time.”
“Help?” O’Rourke’s eyes never left the spot where the two Victor’s were fighting, the sounds coming over the table more like those from a pair of animals than two men. “Yes, help. We have to kill it.” She turned, eyes bright with the need to do just that. “How?”
“The Lieutenant’s working on that,” So’ka told her with a nod towards Cutter. “But we need some weapons, I lost my rifle when it was… torturing me.”
“Rifles?” O’Rourke frowned, looking around. “Hanley had one, and so did I… there!” she darted top the side, throwing a pair of chairs aside to get at the lone phaser rifle she’d spotted. Checking it, she nodded. “Still has a full charge.” She started to raise it towards the table, but So’ka stopped her.
He laid a hand on the barrel. “Not yet, ma’am – we need to find out which one of them is the real Lt. Krieghoff first.”
“Does it matter?” O’Rourke snapped.
“Yes,” So’ka stepped closer, locking eyes with her. “That… thing… isn’t the Lieutenant. Whatever it said, whatever it did – that wasn’t him doing it. It doesn’t matter if we like him or not, if he scares us or not. We have to help him,” he held her gaze until she looked away.
“All right,” she acquiesced – then looked up as the battling pair rolled into view around the table.
One of the Victors – the one in the full uniform, marking it as the entity – had sprouted claws and had widened its jaw to reveal rows of shark-like teeth as it tried to close them on the other. The jacketless Victor – presumably the original – had lost much of the look of madness he’d possessed and was trying to pin the other Victor’s hands while avoiding the teeth snapping at his throat.
O’Rourke and So’ka raised their weapons, then checked them as the pair rolled over again. “Lieutenant,” So’ka said over his shoulder to Cutter. “Which one?”
“I… the one in back… no front… no… ka.” Cutter stepped forward. “It keeps shifting. One of them isn’t human though. It’s … not matter. Some kind of static energy field.”
“Energy?” O’Rourke asked. “Can we kill it?”
“No… I don’t think so…” Cutter altered a control. ‘No… it’s too strong.”
“Can we disrupt it then?” So’ka asked. “Break it up somehow?”
“I don’t ... maybe …” Cutter made more adjustments. “Not with that,” he decided hesitantly, pointing So’ka’s Phaser 2. “The rifle might be strong enough … but it needs to be modified…”
“Here,” O’Rourke thrust it at him. “Fix it.”
Cutter took the rifle reluctantly. “I can’t … this may not work,” he cautioned. “I’m not sure how to…"
“Do it!” O’Rourke snapped.
Cutter flinched and nodded, his hands opening the rifle’s side and making adjustments hesitantly. “I think … adjust the phase cycle, then the … change the discharge rate …” He stopped. “What if it doesn’t … what do we do if it doesn’t work?”
“It’ll work,” So’ka urged him. “You can do this.”
“I … all right,” Cutter nodded. His fingers began to move just slightly more surely. “This is still going to be lethal to the Lieutenant, so you have to be certain to hit the right one. I doubt it will let us get a second shot.” He paused, changed one setting, and looked up. “It’s done.”
O’Rourke snatched the rifle back. “Then let’s do this~” she spun, raised the weapon – and froze as she saw that while they’d been talking, the entity had shifted again… into an exact mirror of what they hoped was the real Victor. “Dammit!” she hissed, swinging the rifle’s muzzle from one to the other of the battling men. “Which one do I shoot?’
Cutter looked startled. “You want me to…?
“Tell me which one to shoot!” she snapped.
“I…” Cutter looked down at the tricorder. “It’s… it’s the one in front – no, wait, the back, no… I can’t…”
“Which one!”
“I…” Cutter looked from his tricorder to the two men and back. “I…”
“You can do this, sir,” So’ka spoke up beside him. “I believe in you. You can do this.”
”It's mimicking a matter signature," Cutter looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “On my mark,” he told O’Rourke, “shoot the one on top.” He stared at the readings, timing them, ignoring the men fighting. “Ready… n-- no ... now, fire.”
NRPG: Our own little bit of insanity before wrap-up. Enjoy! ~Lori
As usual, Karyn was using the late shift to catch up on her reading and writing of reports. Like most people, it was her least favorite part of her job, but when one was required to know the status of every counselor and crewmember to come through the department doors, and even those who didn't, it paid to be organized. Everyone depended on her to keep the crew focused and happy, to have a sense of how the crew was feeling at any given moment and to be proactive at all times.
Unfortunately between sessions and staying on top of the current mission as her dual positions of Chief Counselor and Second Officer required, she didn't have a lot of time to read all of the session reports from the other counselors and prepare the schedule for the week. Under the best of circumstances, Karyn was hardpressed to stay focused, but with fric and frac (also known as Jay and Bob) serving as her 'helpers,' she was positively on her last nerve.
She was certain Brhode was trying to see how long it would take her to snap, and being a mature adult, Karyn had resolved to make the most of the situation by putting her fingers in her ears and singing (because in practice, the counting to ten technique really WAS a load of crap) whenever the schmucks brought out the murderess in her. Karyn Dallas was not capable of ignoring speech, and no matter how hard she tried to think of fric and frac as just talking flab...er, muscle that was going to take her where she wanted to go (because it was her office, dammit, and she was going to use it ramp or no ramp), she was losing the battle.
Of course the hallucinations hadn't helped. No matter how much she tried to intellectualize what she had seen and why she had seen it, ever since, she'd felt uneasy and out of control. Karyn believed in the afterlife and would talk to her mother at night quite often, but never in a million years had she been so tired that she'd seen her. When she was little, she used to pray her mother would rescue her, but it never amounted to so much as a dream.
Now the mere thought of her family gave her goosebumps, and the memories that came flooding back were enough to leave her shaking. Why was her birthday causing her to feel like this? She'd thought she'd made peace with her mother's death and her life long ago. She was damn near afraid to close her eyes, like she was nine years old again.
Sighing deeply and beginning to read the duty roster for the sixth time, she was startled out of her concentration yet again.
"ShizzNITZ Tubby! Where do you[BLEEP]in get this stuff? My Dumbledore so can [BLEEP] up your Jada Fett! Fett gotts no game, Home-Style!" Jay suddenly shouted out, their card game falling off the table. Bob just shrugged. He knew Fett was the no.1 one card in the game for a reason.
Karyn, her face beet red, eyes blazing like a woman possessed, moved like lightning to the bottom of the stairs and shouted in a tone that could shatter glass, "THAT'S IT! I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU TWO! I AM TIRED OF YOUR DISGUSTING STORIES, YOUR BATHROOM HABITS AND YOUR CONSTANT ATTEMPTS TO GRAB MY ASS! I DON'T CARE IF I HAVE TO CRAWL UP AND DOWN THESE STAIRS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, OR IF I HAVE TO PULL HULL PLATING FROM THE SHIP TO BUILD MYSELF A RAMP AFTER I BEAT BRHODE TO DEATH WITH IT, BUT YOU WILL NEVER AGAIN TOUCH OR SPEAK TO ME, ESPECIALLY WHEN I'M RELAXING! NOW GO!"
As quickly as the demon possessed her, it left, leaving a pleased, but calm Karyn behind. When she didn't hear the sounds of scrambling feet and "Hold me, Tubby..." she was about to call security, but before she could, a familiar voice was heard.
"Belay all that...Commander." The Voice barked from the top of the stairs.
***
...Instinctually, Karyn cowered, moving as far from the voice as possible... She'd made him angry again, and John Dallas Sr., her father, was not someone one wanted to be near period, but especially not when he was angry. She was beyond shaken now, she was numb...somehow anticipating and fearing what was to come. Part of her wanted him to get it over with.
Somehow finding a voice, she half begged, half fought. "I'm sorry I disturbed you... Can I get you a drink?"
John Q. Bhrode glowered at his Chief Counselor from his perch at the door to the Counseling Offices.
"A DRINK?" he demanded. 'Do I look like some damn dirty Hippie? Guzzling booze without a care in the Universe?" True to form, Bhrode had somehow appeared in the room without a whisper of warning. His icy-grey eyes raked over the Security Terrible Twosome, who flinched in visible terror at the sight of El Bhrodeniator.
"Is that a HAT?" he barked at Silent Bob.
"[BLEEP] I told the fat wussy...you know.. the [BLEEP]ing hat..." Jay tried to cover, as Bob shook his head 'no' and stowed the hat into his Trench coat.
"And a TRENCH COAT?" Bhrode challenged, one finger pointing at the offending garment like the FINGER OF DOOM. Which it in fact was.
"Umm... [BLEEP]...no? Because ....like ....you said.....HOLY SNOOGGGELING BOOTCHIES! How does he DO that?" asked Jay, doing a double take. Bob beamed. Somehow, the Trench Coat had disappeared. Bob looked around in feigned amazement. He shrugged, clearly indicating he didn't know WHAT Bhrode was talking about.
"Out." Bhrode ordered. In a whirl of activity, they disappeared.
Bhrode looked over the slender redhead in her hoverchair. His eyes appraised her. His normally fierce and craggy face was set in his usual scowl, only deeper now.
"I need to. . . talk. To you. Now." he ordered in a gruff tone.
***
"Sure...jjust come down." stuttered the normally confident counselor. No one ever refuted John Dallas, not even when they knew he never wanted to talk. The prayer began in her head like a mantra. *Please, God, not now. Please God...* She began to detach herself from the moment. It was easier that way. Her father loomed over her desk as he approached her...
Bhrode marched to the chair and plopped down.
"Something is not right on MY starship. You're the expert on weird psychological stuff. Why am I feeling WEAK?" Bhrode demanded.
At the mention of the word 'starship,' a part of Karyn's brain seemed to register reality once more and her eyes focused not on John Dallas and her memories, but on Captain Brhode and his angry eyes. She was acutely aware that for a brief moment, these two men in her life appeared one in the same. Shutting her eyes against the disturbing images and the thought she was truly losing her mind, Karyn ignored the beads of sweat on her forehead and her slick palms. She took a breath and focused on Brhode's questions.
Were she not so disoriented, she might have found his admission a break through, even HUMAN. "Weak? Well, most likely it has to do with your not being on the Away Team. You're used to maintaining direct control over those under your command, but you aren't in a position to have complete control over what happens over there and that makes you feel vulnerable."
Bhrode stared off into space for a moment, seeming to digest this.
"Wrong." he announced in a cold voice.
"I know what you're up to. You think you can do the dirty work for a bunch of gutless cowards in the fleet. That you can bring ME down to your level!" he announced coldly.
Bhrode's hand hit her desk with an explosive concussion. Karyn jumped at the sound, no longer seeing Brhode, but again, her own father banging on her dresser in their house on Betazed. She was fourteen again and she'd just been caught sneaking into the house after spending the evening with Alan Taylor, a nice boy from the neighborhood who knew how to listen to her. Her heart pounded in fear. She had hoped to return before John Dallas awoke from his drunken stupor. No such luck. She swallowed hard, she was sure to suffer for it.
"I'm on to YOU Dallas! I know what you and Bobby Price got up to on Romulus last year! Secret mission my ass... you lot and that pointy eared spy Spock were UP to something! What's the reward from Fleet Intelligence?? Price... Is that why he's in a wheelchair now? Elaithin gets his own ship, and you? A nice retirement. Why do you think I asked your commission be re-activated? Did Jurgen Hoth or Sophie DeMarceau or somemother GADDAMN POLITICIAN PUT YOU UP TO TRYING TO KILL PRICE ON LANJEP? YOU PUT HIM IN A WHEELCHAIR LIKE YOURS!!" Bhrode all but shouted at her, his face florid and his eyes bugging.
*Secret? Did he know of their plans to leave for Starfleet? Did someone in town tip him off? Did he know about her plans to marry Alan?* The bits and pieces her brain was currently processing did not reflect her fears of the present, only the past. She 'heard' nothing of lanjep, Romulus or Admirals and instead realized that her plans to run from home may have been dashed. It was as if her father could reach inside her very head, and the disdain with which he spoke of wheelchairs (a sign of his daughter's weakness) and secrets.
Her own anger threatened to overflow. The secrets he had forced her to keep in her young life were enough to set the world, *her world* topsy turvy. Karyn instinctively began looking for something she could use as a weapon. In her panic, she couldn't think or see straight. Katie was going to be so disappointed in her if she didn't try to defend herself. Not wanting to provoke him any further, she forced herself to keep her voice calm, almost seductive, ice to his fire.
"I..I would never do such a thing to betray you or the family. I can keep no secrets from you, you know that."
Both officers considered each other for a long moment.
"Karyn, John." the graveyard voice commanded them.
Both Bhrode and Karyn turned to look.
Admiral Robert Lee Price sat there in his hoverchair... his fleet White uniform and gold braid dazzling in an eerie glow.
"I am the Ghost of Galaxies Past. Come with me...." he told them.
* * * * * * * *
"If that tubby pervert Streely shows up, I'm shooting him." Bhrode snapped, eyeing Price in his hoverchair with disdain.
Karyn thought for sure she was losing her mind, or perhaps just dreaming this entire exchange. Any second now she thought she would wake up and find herself back on earth far away from memories of Lee Price and hoverchairs and failed missions. Pinching herself, she was disappointed to learn she was not going to wake up just yet. It seemed her subconscious had plans for her tonight. She regarded Lee with a mixture of awe and amusement. Wouldn't the rumor mill just love to get ahold of this dream?
"Crikey, no! Leo will not be here for this. I have to show you something.... somthing from your pasts that you have both forgotten. Something that you will need to save GALAXY.. my Galaxy, mates . No worries!" Price told them.
Karyn and Bhrode found themselves looking in at an older Fleet ship.
"The USS YUKON. I was a young jackass of a Junior Officer." Bhrode snaps, identifying the setting.
Crewmembers are pausing to celebrate Christmas, except one young man who is buried in a PADD.
"John, you were..." Price began again.
"Shut up Bobby. I remember what I was doing. I was reading up on tactics against Hydran Hellbore Cannon frigates." Bhrode interrupted.
As the klaxxons sounded and crew began to scramble during the RED ALERT around the three visitors, Bhrode continued, his voice flat and emotionless.
"Hydrans love to close in on you and fire a Hellbore. The sheer volume of power discharged will blow even a Class VII shield generator offline. We had Class V's back then." Bhrode reminisces.
"Why were you reading tactics when everyone else was celebrating?" Price urged.
"Because you never..... you never... you never let them see you flinch. You always have a plan, and you ALWAYS hit back twice as hard as the bastard throwing the first punch." Bhrode finished, his eyes gleaming.
Karyn turned to Brhode. "You hurt them before they hurt you? Is that it? That's bullshit. Some people spend so much time reacting to what could happen or what might be that they can never see what's happening or what is." Karyn shook her head, unwanted memories flooded back, memories Karyn could not push away. "Damn you, Lee, why are you doing this to me?" Her hallucination remained quiet.
***
Six year old Karyn looked at the dilapidated Christmas tree with awe. The colored lights blinked on and off in a hypnotic rhythm, plunging her face in alternating shadows and light. Katie had helped her to decorate it with red and green ball ornaments as well as bits of tinsel, that was of course after she had carried it from the attic (hence the smashed branches).
Katie's small frame was the only thing that betrayed her scant twelve years of life. Years of abuse had forced her to grow up long before she was supposed to, and now she had become every bit of the wife and mother John Dallas Sr. had demanded her to be after her little sister's birth had taken his beloved. Her eyes looked hollow, her cheeks gaunt and pale. Daddy had visited her the night before and promised Santa would bring she and Karyn presents if she were a "good girl."
"Aren't you going to open your present from Daddy, Katie?" asked a perplexed Karyn who was already playing with her new doll.
"No." was her simple reply. Katie would never badmouth the elder Dallas in front of her little sister, or at least she tried not to, in an effort to keep Karyn happy and healthy, but some days were worse than others, and today was a bad day.
Karyn frowned, her little nose scrunched in outrage. Kate had protected her from so much that she refused to see her father as anything but 'Daddy, her protector. "Why do always have to be such a grump, Katie? Daddy loves us and..."
"And what?" Kate screamed, snatching the doll away from her in anger. "You think this is all it takes to be a Daddy? One present and all is forgiven?"
Karyn was crying now, her sister's infrequent bouts of anger scared her more than Daddy's. "He said he was sorry Katie! He said he wasn't going to do those things anymore! If you were good, maybe..."
Before Karyn knew what was happening, Katie had her by the shoulders. "You listen to me, Karyn, I don't want you to go near Daddy when I'm not there, ok? I don't care if he promises you the moon, his promises aren't real..."
"But...but..." Karyn sniffled. "Daddy loves us, Katie. I know he does."
"Grown ups only say that when they want something, Karyn. Remember that. Only I love you just because... Now, be a good girl and promise me you won't go near Daddy when I'm not around, or let that Mark Peterson kiss you. It...it's not fun. Pretty soon, he'll ask you for other things."
"Like what?" asked Karyn innocently. So far the little boy across the street had only held her hand. He also liked to make her laugh.
Kate looked ready to say something more, but to Karyn's dissappointment, she didn't. Instead, she smiled and ruffled Karyn's hair. "Come on, let's see if we can find a brush for your doll."
She was loosing her mind. At least that's what she prayed was happening. If the horrible visions of the future that she as experiencing had any basis in reality, then insanity was a far preferable alternative.
Curled in a fetal position behind the Captain's Chair of the USS Defiants bridge, Rebecca von Ernst watched with dull fascination the way her helmet faceplate fogged with each labored breath from her lungs.
She hadnt moved a muscle for hours. . . . . .or years. . . . .. it was so hard to tell anymore.
The hollow echo of her own breathing hissed in her helmet, the translucent faceplate now opaque with condensation from her breath.
Nothing moved.
Nothing around her made a noise. Except of course for the voices in her head.
=/\= Get them off.. . me. . .. dear god noooo...=/\=
=/\=No! this is impossible. . . .I saw you die. . . I SAW YOU DIE!!!=/\=
=/\= Mom? Dad? H. . .h. . how can you be here. . .no. . . .I'm sorry. . . .don't punish me. . .=/\=
By some cruel trick of fate, the strange interphasic radiation that normally kept the various members of the Defiant Away Team out of communication, was mysteriously absent around Rebecca.
Her ears rang with every tortured cry of her crew. They caught their every wail and cry of pain as they were horribly mutilated by their darkest fears. . . .every pitiful groan as they lost their souls to the insanity that was the Defiant.
=/\=Ahhhhh. . .its eating me alive. . . .I can feel it chewing on me...=/\=
=/\= Not my eyes!!! Please not my eyes!!!=/\=
The cries echoed duly in Rebecca's ears, but she made no move.. . Her eyes remained unfocussed and unblinking as visions of her own horror danced through her head.
~~~Momma. . . .What happened to my Momma!!~~~
~~~~I am YOU Rebecca. . .I am what you become in the future.~~~~
~~~~Starfleet is in flames! I left the Enterprise burning in space. . .and I did it all because of what they did to US!!~~~
~~~~You didn't get better Rebecca. . . . .They FIXED you!!~~~~
"They fixed me. . ." Rebecca echoed dully.
The strange 40 year old Doppelganger-Rebecca hadn't specified what exactly she meant by that, but the younger version no longer had the wits to care.
Real or illusion it would all be over soon. . ..Her air would run out.. ..the Defiant would kill her. . . . or she would go mad.
It would all end.
"No!" A cruel new voice pierced her thoughts. "Nothing ends here fool!! This hell is forever, and your suffering is for eternity."
Rebecca closed her eyes allowing a single tear to roll down her freckled cheek.
Not even death would save her?
Dear God help me.
But there was no answer, for the young redhead had never believed in a deity before.
HE may not exist. . .but it seemed his opposite did.
"God... dammit... mother... f**ker... why...won't...you... open?!?!?!" Corgan pounded mercilessly on the side of the doors to exit the turbolift. Each strike made a dull, audible thump as his phaser rifle smacked and cracked every time a blow came down. Without a place that James' fingers could slip in and pull the doors open, he was left with a more primitive method of getting out.
Beating the crap out of it and swearing as only a space boomer can swear.
James' phaser rifle suffered from a broken rifle stock. Pieces of dura-plastics and duranium sprung and cartwheeled off each time the rifle struck home, flying into the turbolift, ricocheting off Corgan's neck and chest, and neatly pinging off Rose's EVA suit.
"Come on... you... mother... THERE!" With a final crack, the door popped, then shifted a mere centimeter out of alignment. It was enough for Corgan to work his fingers through. "Pardon my French Rose. Can you help me open the door?"
The young Betazoid put her phaser rifle to the side and helped the young man with the door.
The door gave way with ease. James disgarded his spent, useless rifle, tossing its busted frame to the side like a piece of clutter.
James never dreamed he would see the inside of a Constitution, much less it's bridge.
The Bridge itself was flawless in its detail. Brightly colored with oranges and reds, and bordered with sharp black, the borders surrounding battleship gray panels of duranium alloy plates, James felt out of place and a bit at awe as a futuristic man visiting a relic.
The buttons were all brightly lit, the science station was whirring with machines, and the viewscreen showed space... as well as the USS Galaxy off her port bow, and a diamond shaped ship off starboard. Everything was there, even the *whup whup* sound of the sensors.
"Nobody home. Dammit." James turned back, "We better get out before we..."
Rose however, can feel something..it was Rebecca and the woman was in trouble, then need to save her even though she thoughtRebecca don't like Rose at all.
"Jesus Christ!" James ran over to the captain's chair, and saw with dread a huddled form tucked almost out of sight. Rebecca laid helpless on the deck, her body still tiny and frail despite the protective cocoon she made inside her EVA suit. Her breath was ragged and labored, steaming up her helmet, the lights inside refracting and glaring down at her like two suns. She looked quiet, and deathly pale.
"They fixed me..." She dully called out, her eyes open like a fish.
It stung his heart to see Rebecca fall so ill and weak. James gathered her up, his arms propping up her back and head. "God dammit, Commander. Wake up! I still owe you those guitar lessons! Are you gonna let me pay up... or are you gonna wuss out on me?!?!" He asked frantically, "Rebecca?!? COME ON!!!!"
"Damn it XO this is not the time to be brave for crying out FUCKING LOUD..come on Rebecca."
"Rebecca... come on! We have to get out of here... before..."
James felt a deathly cold touch on his shoulder. The hackles on his neck rose, each a tiny arousal of fear. Slowly, against his better judgement, he looked behind him.
And stared down the face of Death.
"Awwww... now isn't this touching?" The figment of Corgan's imagination mocked. In the background, now dark and glowing neon green, James could hear the clanging and clicking of arm servos, and see the stabbing red tracker beams pierce the dark...
Death slowly brushed Rebecca's cheek with one hand. The other rested on his scythe, and tuked under his arm was another tome, a dusty old book engraved in gold and platinum. It read 'Captain's Log'.
"Interesting read... this captain." Death mused, his hand withdrawing from Rebecca's suit, "Gives me some awesome hints. So, have you considered my offer yet, or am I going to have to let the Borg loose?"
Rose saw her partner zone out again and shook him,"Damn it James come on! I'm not going to lose you or Rebecca."
Cold sweat pattered down James' shirt. He swallowed his sore throat and replied to Death, "No. I will not hurt either of them. Not for what you'll give me."
"Hey pal. The book said itself... you'll be with her on the bridge. "Death gritted. He dropped the captain's log, then swung the scythe in a whistling arch in the air, stopping the blade short of Rose's head, then swinging it again and stopping short of evicerating Rebecca, "So, which one will it be? Don't fool me. I know you want them both. How about I make the choice easier for you?"
James, paralyzed in fear, not moving enough to even arm himself, stared down Death.
"JAMES!" the young Betazoid woman yelled as she was shaking him trying to get alert.
The ship shook in a spasm of pain, its decks roaring like a draconian beast. The deck shifted and shimmered, showing semi transparency. James' foot was inches away.
The deck shimmered, was transparent like glass, then it came back to being solid. It shifted again, but this time longer, and then returned to its normal state. ~"We were warned about this... sections of the ship disappearing..."~ Corgan thought, an idea forming in his head.
"No..." James responded, finding the will to be strong, "Neither."
"Fine..." Death grunted, turning transparent, then disappearing into the night, "Then you'll all die."
At that moment, the BORG drones in the darkness stumbled forth like mishappen techno-zombies thirsting for assimilation. James drew his pistol, tracked target by target, but couldn't decide what to shoot. ~"JesusChristJesusChristJesusChrist...."~
"ROSE! REBECCA! Release your mag-boots! Throw a grappling line at the wall and let the rope loose!" James snapped, firing his phaser inches away from Rose's head, turning a Borg's head cybernetics into sparking ruins, "HURRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"COME ON REBECCA!" Rose yelled while throwing the grappling line at the wall, then let it loose. She wondered what the hell James was shooting at, but didn’t argue witht ht ewild eyed man with the phaser.
"COME ON JAMES!"
Limply, Rebecca allowed herself to be manhandled into position in the center of the bridge. Dimly she could perceive the shouting frantic voices of Rose and James, but somewhere along the way, the connection to her conscious mind was lost.
Her helmet, still fogged, was solved by Rose who quickly triggered an external switch on Rebecca's EVA suit. A puff of cool air in Rebecca's face did wonders for clearing both her vision and her mind.
"R. . .r. . . .r Rose?" she stammered, her tongue feeling thick and numb in her mouth. "W. . .w w.w. .w what. . "
". ..are we doing here?" James completed the sentence for the stammering XO, sniping another non-existent borg from assimilating Rose.
Inwardly he wondered why she kept switching personas back and forth from stuttering to ice queen. "We're getting out of this hell hole Commander, Express elevator going down!!"
With that he thrust one end of the relay rope into Rebecca's gloved fingers and nodded towards the glowing patch of deck.
Two and two clicked in Rebecca's mind. . ."Y. . .y.. you've gotta b.. .b .b.be kidding."
He wasn't.
"I don't have time to F**K around here!" James snap shot twice into a Borg's exoskeletal chest.
A nearby control panel exploded into sparks causing both women to jump. . . .maybe James was trying to disable the Defiant by blasting her bridge . . . . .?
James sneered "By the way, got any calculations on how to reach the engineering section from here?"
“E. . e . .engineering?” Rebecca stammered. She didn’t really comprehend. The Defiant’s Engineering section was nearly 100 meters DOWN and nearly 150 to the aft. How did he expect to reach it? By walking through walls?
“W. . .w. . .wait a minute.”
One documented feature of the interphase region was its rather unusual effect on the structure of the Defiant itself. The Historical report of Dr. Leonard McCoy revealed how certain areas of the ships hull was intermittently phased out of existence thus becoming totally intangible.
Spooky and ghost-like yes, but now apparently James was wanting to use the same trick to rappel down THROUGH the very deckplates.
Insane.
The Defiant wasn’t making it any easier to concentrate either. . . .
"Rebecca," A phantom-James said looking at her closely, "How can you leave me like this? What about our baby. . .what about our family?"
"WHAT!!?!!" Rebecca flinched backwards in shock, suddenly clutching at her belly. . . .finding it flat and skinny as ever. "What did you say?"
James frowned looking confused, "I said are you ready to latch on the rope Commander?"
Dully Rebecca nodded, the eerie visions of a strange future still dancing in her thoughts.
"Good... hold this... frag anything that goes near us, please... ma'am." James thrust the type two phaser into her tiny palms. He ripped off a strip of his shirt, took two of the torn pieces, and jammed them up his ears. Then he took the longer strip and wrapped it around, holding the wadded cloths in place. "You have an EVA suit. I don't. That means i'm going to have one hell of a headache... if I make it. But, i'd rather brave that than the drones."
He shrugged helplessly, then grabbed his phaser back, "Ready?" He yelled, dispensing red beamed death to his imaginary foes.
~~~He’s insane. . . .He want to risk decompression to escape invisible BORG?~~~
And yet. . . .after Rebecca’s own nighmare experineces she could see how someone could be that desparate. She twitched non-committaly, which James figured was as close to yes as she’d get.
"Rose? Are you ready?"
"Lets get the hell out of here my friends! I better get the new damn rank for this bull shit I been though!"
"Well... well... sh*t!" He pressed the trigger on a drone that came too close. The phaser clicked, and a red glow tried to pathetically leap out of the gun. But like a flashlight, it dimmed and struck the Borg, staggering it back, not dispatching it entirely. James threw the phaser at the Borg. It bounced off the drone's skull, and didn't phase it a bit.
James looked around for another projectile. The Captain's log looked pretty heavy and durable! Perfect for mauling! He was going to take the log and beat the Borg a new...
And that was when the ship played a new prank, phasing out and pulling the deck plates out from under his feet...
"TIME TO JUMP OUT!" the young Betazoid officer told then while she jumped out.
James felt the wind suck out of the bridge. He grabbed hold of both EVA suits and held on for dear life. The wind ripped them away, hurling them through imaginary deckplates and crew.
The interphasic rift went straight through the 14 decks of the Primary hull, and the trio of officers found themselves plummeting through a veritable blur of levels. . . . .deck after deck of hellish nighmares flashed before their eyes as they fell.
Scenes of blood and slaughter and worse imbedded themselves in their fragile minds, in a sort of stop motion cacophony of horror.
Shrieking as she fell, Rebecca tried to screw he r eyes shut, and clutched desperately to the other two.
If the bottom most deck wasn’t phased out like the rest they were gonna go SPLAT!!
If it was phased. . . .and James without his EVA suit. . . .
The chief of security wasn't so worried about the off chance of having the ship phase back into place and have himself and his two crewmates become literally 'one' with the ship, but worried about what would happen when they were outside.
To put it in perspective, he was going into open space without an EVA suit. His body was exposed to bone chilling cold and decompression. No amount of training could prepare James for survival outside of space. It was the general consensus of all survival experts that it was either wait for a hatch or a transport signal... or pray to whatever God one worshipped.
With a soft whoosh of escaping air, Deck 14 whizzed past and the trio were suddenly thrust into a frozen nothingness. . .that of eternal inhospitable space.
For James Corgan it was a new sort of hell equal to that he just escaped
The first part was the cold. Here in the deep reaches of interstellar space away from any heat-producing bodies, the teperature was near absolute zero. Just a few degrees above the temperature where all molecular motion stops, or roughly –273 degrees Celcius.
It was horrible. Like having his skin run through a cheese grater, the entire surface area of James skin instantly froze, his skin’s moisture and oils crystallizing painfully into razor sharp shards of ice. He screamed, the resulting motion cracking and peeling away layers of solidified skin around his mouth, and chest. Long lines of shattered flesh ran up and down his limbs as he convulsed in pain. His lungs burned as their mucosal linings were likewise frozen, the crystals creating a situation like unto having inhaled a bucket of razor blades.
The decompression was, however, far worse. First the eardrums burst. Streams of bright red blood streamed from the auditory canals solidifying almost instantly into red chunks of ice.
Similar bloody icicles shot from his nose as the blood vessels within his nasal mucosa burst assunder, threatening to choke the poor officer on his own frozen blood.
He wanted to open his eyes but found he could not. . . .his own tears had frozen his lids shut, and the normal introccular pressure was now threatening to burst the fragile organs apart. He could feel his eyes bleeding internally, and freezing rapidly adding to the pressure.
James also found he could no longer move his limbs either. The synovial fluid that normally lubricated his joints was quickly boiling away wracking his body with sharp pains from head to toe.
He lost bowel control and great gouts of blood shot from his rectum staining his pants red, while similar razor sharp ice crystals began tearing apart his internal organs and intestines.
HE realize to late. . . . .One never ever suffocated from Vacuum exposure. . . . . You were too busy dying from everything else.
Spinning wildly the other two women watch James literally come apart at the seams. A swath of regurgitated blood splashed across Rebecca’s faceplate and froze. . .obscuring her vision with its crimson horror.
More level-headed, Rose used her EVA suit thruster to veer out of the way, while holding onto a pain wracked James A distance away, they saw the USS Defiant's deflector dish, and the cigar shaped engineering section. From outer space, the Defiant was beautiful. A queen from another age, filled with swooping, swanlike curves and reed like appendages. Her beauty and grace beguiled anyone who couldn't see the horror inside.
A small section of the engineering section was phasing out of space. Wasting no time, the Rose aimed recklessly into the dangerously small entrance...
...and crashed themselves into a long hall in the engineering section, seconds after the deck phased back into place.
"Aaaarrrgggg......" James groaned, spattering to the deck in a pool of red and brown goo. Blood poured from a thousand tiny wounds . . .testament to the lethality of the ice crystals in his blood, and his joints wer so painfully swollen he could not move.
Each breath was like sandpaper and bloody spittle sprayed with each wheeze. He was lucky his lungs were not two frozen blocks of ice. As it was the left one had burst and lay in tattered shreds within his chest cavity.
HE still could not open his eyes. . . . they were still welded shut by a thick gel of crusted blood and vitrious fluid.
He was deaf as well, but he was too busy cataloging his other pains to notice that yet.
Rose took charge immediately struggling to lift her fallen comrade, and after a second Rebeca di d too. James frozen blood was slowly thawing from her face plate a and trickling down across her vision.
“Lets go Commader,” Rose nodded towards the hatch. “ The shuttle bay is just a few bays over, and he isnt going to last the next ten minutes if we don’t get him aboard the Galaxy.
Nodding silently Rebecca stared in horrified fascination at the strange trailing patterns the dripping blood was making on her helmet.
It was vision she knew would haunt her nightmares for weeks to come.
Throwing their tiny shoulders under James bulky arms, the two small women lifted him with a grunt and slowly stumbled their way aft.
Behind them a bright trail of blood was smeared, marking where Corgans tattered flesh dragged across the deck.
They had to get off. . . .now.
“It. . . .it. . . its all for nothing.”
“Now you’re getting the picture my good lad. . . . .what did you expect after all? Did you actually believe there was a PURPOSE behind the universe?”
Dr. Jebediah Quick slumped to the floor in dejection, his body quivering with helplessness as the reality of his life came crashing down on him.
“I. . .I thought there was a certain sence of beauty. . . an inner light to everything and everybody. . . I thought. . .”
“You thought wrong,” mocked the voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “There is no grand design to it all. There is no treasure trove of unlocked mysteries to uncover.. . . . . its just a big stupid biochemical accident and you were too dumb to see it for yourself.”
For all his life Jeb Quick had been driven by the single burning purpose of discovering everything there was to know about ‘everything’.
Why was the sky blue?
What was the interphasic relationship between gluons and mesons?
How can Schroedingers cat be alive and dead at the same time?
Do trees dream in color?
It didn’t matter how serious or how ridiculous the question, he had pursued the answers with the same joyful diligence taking as much pleasure from wrong answers as proven theories.
“It was all. . . . .for nothing.”
“Yup.” Sneered the voice, “The universes biggest joke is. . . nobody gets out alive.”
“But family . . .friends. . . . .” Quick protested.
“Fellow lumps of chemical mishaps. You think they love you because of your witty personality?” The voice chuckled. “You should know better, its all psychosocial programming and neural familiarity. A big coincidence.”
“Love?” Quick whimpered. “Above all things I must believe in love.”
“Bah. . . . .pheremones and an animalistic rutting instinct. Love is a chemical happenstance. A combination of scent and the possesion of the correct waist to hip ratio. Love is a farce Jeb my boy.”
Laying quite still in the midst of the Defiants Shuttle bay, Dr. Quick could feel the shadows closing in on him. The voice of despair grew louder in his mind, and the more he tried to protest the more he was drowned out.
He had beamed over bearing a bundle of new Transporter Enhancer rods in an attempt to rescue the Away Team survivors. . . if there were any. . . .but so far none had responded to his summons.
The rods themselves were now arrayed in the center of the bay in a neat circle of light. Anyone who showed up need only step into the ring in order to be whisked away back to the Galaxy.
Also nearby was the silly wire-tangled Spaghetti strainer ‘hat’ that Quick had worn. While not conferring ht e invisibility that had been the reason for its original design, it did somehow block the interphasic madness that was now running rampant on the Galaxy.
It was no proof against the real demons prowling the corridors of the Defiant however.
What was happening to Galaxy affected the mind.
What was happening to Defiant tore straight to the soul.
“I have to believe in life,” Quick murmured. “I was taught by my mother that. . . . .”
“Your mother?” the voice mocked, “Your mother the ditzy flower-child floozy who got herself knocked up at a rock festival is the model of what the universe should be?
“Your Mother who is now a 60 year old trailer park slut banging sweaty old biker gang members and chain smoking Ferengi Smog Sticks is the evidence of a higher plan in life?”
The voice roared with mocking laughter.
“Listen Jeb my boy. . . . . “ it continued, “You always wanted to know who your real father was right? You always heard he was some noble free-spirit that your mother met at WOODSTOCK LXXXVIII right? A musician? A philosopher-poet? Ha!!
“ You want to know what really happened?” The voice leered, Your dear darling mother. . .Sunshine Quick. . . . before she even got to the concert needed to refuel the hovercar she and her friends were riding in. They had no money, so your mother volunteered to spread her legs for the local fuel-station attendant in return for a fuel cell recharge. Your father was some half-wit greasy gas-station hick who diddled a seventeen year old flower child slut.
“Your whole life Jeb. . . . . .is worth nothing more than a cheap tank of gas. . . . . how’s that for an eye opener?”
Images of Jebediah’s mother. . . .young, blond, and clad in a simple tie-died smock came unbidden to his mind. . . . .impossible. . . .or was it?
“And God?” Quick asked, through the tears, “What about God.”
“You know the story bub. . . . . There is no such thing as a real atheist. Anyone who really is, is either in jail, or commits suicide. There’s no point otherwise.”
“And you’re saying?”
A grinning evil-faced shadow stepped out of the darkness. . . . .”I’m saying there’s no point gasoline-boy.”
((---))
As Quick was loosing his soul at one end of the room, the doors at the other end hissed open disgorging a trio of battered and bruised officers.
Two small women in the form of Lt Commander Rose Isis MacAllen, and Commander Rebecca von Ernst struggled to drag between them the bloody husk of what once could-have-been Lt Commander James Lionel Corgan.
A bloody line of peeling flesh trailed behind them as the Security Chief’s flesh. . . .rotted by flash exposure to the near absolute zero of space. . .was already necrotic and black, rolling off his bones in long slivers.
Rose’s And Rebecca’s EVA suits were covered in a red slime that was Corgan’s blood.
He coughed once spitting up phlegm and a portion of his own tongue that had frozen in the void outside.
Lexa, waiting since she came to safety with Lieutenant T'lan, watched James in shock as his ruined body appeared before her. The sudden, bullet like impact of James's arrival and the chewed up piece of hamburger he appeared to be frayed her nerved to their breaking point.
"Oh... stars..." She sobbed. The blood on James' uniform stained all over. Lexa recognized decompression and space vacuum exposure when she saw it. James orifices were literally leaking points for blood, and his skin was flash frozen the second he stepped off. Blind, and in terrible pain, James weakly groaned as a defiant gesture to the galaxy, a testiment of his survival.
The blood on James' pip was oddly familiar. Lexa's memory flashed, opening her mind to a vacuum of horror that wanted to suck her in. The screaming voices of people in agony echoed James painful, wracking coughs. Her mind was on fire and slammed like a fist into a wall. Everything was clear, even James pain, like she was watching it from a microscope.
She saw the blood on the pip.
She saw James dying on the floor of the transporter room.
She saw James in sickbay, and heard the sound of rushing and breathing.
The future became so open, but at the same time, nebulous and closed enough to leave her confused.
"James..." Her tears rained like manna from heaven. T'lan nodded, letting go of Lexa. The fever wracked Vulcan stood on her feet and nodded urgently again. Lexa ran over to James, Rose and Rebecca.
“The hangar. . . .oof. . . .at last!” breathed Rose, the young Betazoid awash with relief.
Rebecca nodded, intent on controlling her breathing, and not vomiting. Too many horrors had plagued the redhead girl of late.
“R. . . R. . Rebec. . ca?” The bloody words bubbled from James tattered lips, “W. . .w. . what about . . o. our baby?”
Rebecca screwed her eyes shut to the words.
"R. . . R. . Rebec. . ca?" The Chief of Security managed to construct a sentence out of his mind, a major accomplishment of willpower and pain endurance, "A. . . A. . . Are you. . . my. . ." He hacked a gob of frozen blood over his crusted lips, "R . . . ose? A. . . are you... my..."
Before James could finish, his mind couldn't take much more. He passed out from the pain, his head slumping over, a trickle of blood dropping out like drool.
~~~Its all an illusion. . . Its all an illusion. . .its all an illusion. . . .He did NOT really say that.~~~
However, a sudden shift of weight in her center of gravity caused the farmgirl to stumble forward nearly dropping James.
A great weight suddenly hung from her belly, and looking down, Rebecca saw the unmistakable bulge of a very pregnant female. . . .on her own body.
“NO!” she shouted, her voice echoing in the shuttle bay, “This isn’t real!! I’m a Virgin!! I’m a Virgin!!
"COMMANDER, THERE NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU, YOUR FINE AND SAFE NOW!" Rose yelled at her trying to get the young XO back to real life, ~~~boy does this woman owe her one.~~~
"Commanders! Let me take James! I'm a trained medical doctor!" Lexa yelled for them both. She took James from them and checked his vital signs. The pulse was weak. There wasn't much time.
Looking down again Rebecca saw everything was back to normal. With trembling fingers she reached down to pat her belly. . .flat and skinny. . . .like always.
~~~Oh dear God get us out of here. . ..~~~ her mind wailed.
Trudging across the bay, they lifted their eyes, and gasped.
A TRANSPORTER RING!!!
They were saved, and none too soon for James didn’t have much time left. . . .drowning as he was in his own blood.
They redoubled their efforts until their eyes caught what lay on the floor directly next to the ring. . . .
Rose gasped and Rebecca bit off a shriek. . . .
It was Dr. Quick. . . .sorta.
The good Doctor’s head was recognizable anyhow, but from the neck down his body seemed to have melted away in to a wormy-squirmy pile of larva-like goo. Arms and legs were geat ropy masses of worms and a rattlign breath could be heard emanating from a writhing pit that was once his chest.
“No. . . .hope. . . .” the head murmured, “No hope. . .no beauty. . . . No purpose. . . .” A wormy-arm gestured uselessly splattering fetid juice across the floor.
Once again it was Rose who took charge, "Come on Becky, I will help you guys get thought the transport ring."
*************
"No... not again. Please... not again." James begged like a child.
He found himself surrounded by darkness. There was no light, except he could see clearly. It was not night, but a void. If he wanted to, he could see anyone from a distance.
If anyone bothered to come around.
He remembered the darkness from before. The Hirogen incident, and a fight with a Hirogen combat master left him in a coma. He remembered the images of this 'dream', and the long walk through an endless void.
If his memory served him correctly, he was dead, or soon to be.
Alone in a darkness without any end, or any form. His feet were still on ground, but it felt like unendingly thick pane of onyx was placed in a starless space and left there. James checked his clothing again. He was still wearing a uniform, pressed and sharply dressed. His type two phaser was still in his belt, and so were two logs from the 23rd century. It was as if he was just prepared to go to work.
"I knew I would get you sooner or later..." Said the voice from behind him, as a skeletal hand tapped him on the shoulder.
*********
Lexa, T’Lan, Rose and Rebecca stared at the ruin that was once Dr. Quick.
Once a mop-haired lanky scientist of about two meters, he was now simply a head atop a writhing pile of worm-like larva that squirmed and wiggled with every move he attempted to make.
To make matters worse. . . he was very much still ALIVE. . .
~~~Oh. . . help us. . . . .what happened to him!?!~~~ the shocks never seemed to end for the four women. Carrying a half-corpse between them, and now seeing the doctor transformed into a horrific pile of fish bait.
“C. . .Co. . .Commander? “ The head of Dr. Quick spoke. . . a trail of worms slithering out form between his lips as he did. “ Come over to where I can see you. . .Commander.”
Her stomach roiling, Rebecca helped the others ease Corgan to the deck inside the Transport rings. . . . .and hesitantly stepped back around into Quick’s field of vision.
“Ah. . .the young Commander von Ernst.” He/it spoke. . .his body squirming. “I had hoped to see you before you returned. . . .there are some things you need to know before you go back.”
Rebecca winced and tried to avert her eyes as a particularly long and nasty worm slithered out of Quick’s left nostril. . . . .
“D. . .D .d.d.Doc?” she stammered turning green slightly.
The head half-frowned, “No little sister. . . .its too late for me. . .I have sold my soul and given up hope. . . .and the Entity has claimed me.”
“E. .Entity?”
“Entity. . .or entities. . . .” Quick allowed, “I’m not sure exactly but there may be a host of demons possessing this ship. . . .The only important thing is getting OUT.”
Rebecca glanced back towards Rose, who was attending the fallen Corgan and pleading with her eyes for Rebecca to HURRY UP.
“A moment please first my dear. . . .”Quick sputtered through a mouthful of worms. . . .”First, in my cabin. . . .a letter. . .”
“I’ll send it.” Rebecca assured suddenly surprised in the sudden confidence in her voice.
The Quick head nodded as best it could. . . .”Next. . .The Galaxy is not safe either. The entire crew has been gripped by a debilitating Insanity akin to the original Enterprise mission. . . if you return then you too will be affected.”
“But. . . .”
“But wait. . .” Quick interrupted. “My hat. . . .The . . .uh. . . .colander with the wire s sticking out of it over there. It will provide a semblance of immunity to the effects, but who knows for how long. The Captain and Commander Hawksley are trying to start a war with the Tholians, and someone SANE needs to stop them. . . . .If I’m correct you are the only one with the proper codes to do so.”
Rebecca gulped and gingerly picked up the abandoned spaghetti strainer and perched it atop her head. It was up to her?
Quick smiled. . . .”Now. . go. . . .go before its too late.”
Tearing her gaze away form the horror that Quick had become Rebecca returned to the Transporter Ring and keyed the Comm unit atop one of the rods.
“G. . . .Galaxy. . .F. . .five to beam back.”
The crackling response, however was not the one the away team expected.
=/\= I’m a little teapot. . . .short and stout. . . . .this is my handle. . . .this is my spout. . . . . .=/\=
The singing voice of the Transporter Chief proved Quick’s assertions about rampant insanity, and Rebecca nervously snuggled the colander down tighter on her head.
“Galaxy Computer. . . .Initiate remote access, Voice ident code : von Ernst Snuggle puffy Bunny Slipper. Acknowledge.”
=/\= Identity Confirmed. =/\= the cool emotionless voice of the ship’s computer was a welcome bastion in this sea of madness they found themselves adrift in.
“C. . .c. . computer. . . .Emergency Beam out. . . .Five persons my location. E . ..Energize.”
There wasn’t even a pause before the familiar electric tingle froze them and wisked them away. . . .
Out of the hell house and into the mad house.
* * * * * * * * *
The relentless Montana sun was baking the high desert. The red-black dirt was soaking it up and throwing it back through the scrabbly sage and cactus. A small line of dirty, disheveled youths were scattered across the top of the reddish-yellow limestone butte in complete disarray.
"This sucks! Stupid old man..." whined Yellow Dog Killer, for the 1921837th time.
The rest of them were too hungry and/or tired to do anything but agree with him, and stare off into the merciless blue sky. They had been up here for a whole day and a half now, without food or water, and they were bored silly.
"I mean... what is the point of a vision quest anyways? We're Federation citizens... no one else on the reservation has to fart around with all this stuff. No one has for hundreds of years..." Yellow Dog Killer continued to whine.
"Our parents follow the old ways." replied the youngest one, a skinny youth perched on a boulder. This youngster was smaller than the others... although that would not be for long. A scrawny, blackhaired dreamer, he was loathed by the older boys.
"Yeah, what my mommas boy brother Raven said, show some respect, you Ferringi sucking assmunch." Log interjected, feeling resentment towards his little brother again. Why did Raven have to always say what Log was thinking, first?
"What if I don't? What if I called our parents assmunches, and I called that that crazy old man a..." Yellow Dog challenged the brothers.
"I think I see my spirit guide! What do I do?" Floating Hawk Waterpot cried out, in a quavering falsetto, clearly intended to be Dancing Lizard Blanket, the old shaman.
The boys erupted in mocking laughter. The joke was as funny as the first time they'd heard it. Only Raven Darkstar, hugging scabbed ten year old knees to his chest did not join in. Laughing Horse Log scowled, just like Raven, ruin everyone good time.
"Give up, you just ruined it by talking, then." Raven Darkstar told him, from his perch on top of a boulder. The ten year old was easily the size of the surlier fourteen eyar olds around him. Log puzzled this development. Hadn't that happened later? When he was eighteen and Raven was fourteen? Why did he have memories of thigns that hadn't happened yet?
"Screw YOU Raven! If he saw it, he saw it and we can get the hell off this butte all that much faster! I suppose YOU already saw your spirit guide?" Yellow Dog shot back, his copper face flushing darker and his fists bunching, as he rounded on the packs' usual target.
Raven just looked off into the cloudless blue sky, like he always did. Insults and the usual teenaged smack talk just slid off the youth, like always.
"Yes." was his only reply.
"You little fartknocking liar! you did not!" Yellow Dog answered, his jowls wobbling as he stepped closer to the one person in teh group of kids he usually could beat up.
"Shut up Yellow Dog." Log shot back, feeling his fists bunch up. He vividly recalled breaking Yellow DOg's dumb nose more than once, even on teh day he'd left the reservation to join the... when had he ever left teh Reservation? He was only fourteen?
"Oh sure, defend your freak brother again! You always defend his stupid ass!" Yellow Dog Killer replied, his tanned and scrawny but flabby body rising from the dust to confront Log and his brother.
"Yes he does!" Raven's squeaky voice piped out, over Log's deeper "No I don't!"
Raven's muscled shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Four years younger than his brother, he already was as developed as an adult male. Log blinked. When had THAT happened?
Log stared down at his own body... shaky and scrawny arms were half raised, dusty fists over knobby and thin knees. When.... when did he become so small?
"I d..d.d.d.d.d..don't...." Log stuttered, feeling his voice break.
"You do, you always fight for HIM" Yellow Dog pushed, following the statement with a push to the sunken chest of Log. Normally Log wouldn't have evben noticed, this time he sprawled in the dust. Yellow Dog Killer's fat and bare belly jiggled with the action.
"I......I..." Log stuttered, feeling the red, hot anger hed always depended on, leech out of his body. He was left with... nothing? When had that ever happened? He felt a nagging sense of unease.
"You always fight for HIM! Every time he and that crazy old shaman dream up some silly stuff, you defend them!" Yellow Dog shouted, seeming to grow larger. he punctuated each word with a blow that rocked the smaller boy.
"I don't... this... I... it didn't happen like THIS!" Log sobbed, trying to protect his head as he cowered in the dry Montana dust.
"No, it didn't. You beat Yellow Dog senseless, and then you hit me. Again. You said it was my fault. This was the day I became a man, though. Four years before you did. " Raven observed, looking as he will decades down the road, a full grown Indian warrior, black hair streaming out behind him like pennons in the wind. Warpaint and honor scars across his muscled body.
Log looked up, trapped in hsi skinny and dirty little boys body, snot and tears running down his face.
"How can I? Yo're so bigger than me! Why do you take everything from me? You stole my strength! You stole Mom! you stole everything! I HATE YOU!" Log sobbed, grovelling in the dust at the foot of the boulder his brother perched upon.
Raven Darkstar let an uncharacteristic smile play on his lips.
* * * * * * * * *
Victor Wilson, wearing the face of the dead Rashid ibn Corinna, let a mocking laugh escape, as the black armoured MArine grovelled at his feet. Aboard the Emergency Bridge of the USS Defiant, Wilson was perched on the Captain's chair. Log lay on the floor, wrapped in the grips of whatever the ship was doing to his brain,a nd teh Naucissians and the Medusa were ensconced at the dual Navigation/Helm station in front of him. On the Main Viewscreen, split shot views of the GALAXY crewmembers aboard competed for attention.
"Enough of this..." Victor declared to the Medusan, not visible to the naked eye now that it was freed from its stasis box prison.
--I WOULD FEED ON THESE....-- slithered through Victor's mind.
"No. Stick to our plan." He declared in his most commanding voice.
The sense of anger and resentment that lashed his mind almost drove him to his feet.
"I OWN you! We made you! I COMMAND YOU!" Victor screamed at the ship.
Pain and images lashed at his mind.
"I am already insane with love for Rose! You HAVE NO HOLD ON ME!" Victor laugh-sobbed, as tears ran down his face.
The hate seemed to simmer down to a dull resentment.
"Now, if you're done with your temper tantrum... lock your weapons on USS GALAXY. If I can't give Rose that ship, no one will survive on it. " Victor commanded, knowing that the MEdusan's mental abilities were the only things keeping his mind from being ripped to shreds.
The ancient ship seemed to shudder and ripple resentfully through every interior bulkhead, as it bent to comply with the will of a madman.
TBC=/\=
It was lonely and dark at the top.
Come to think of it, James thought that death was the highest one could ascend, where one could shed the mortal coils of life and raise up to the status of angels and heroes. Death was the true immortalizer. The body died, the soul lived on. That was the way of things.
At least, that was what his momma told him when he was a kid. Maria Ramirez Corgan of the city of Los Angeles was from a highly religious family trapped in what used to be a very dangerous neighborhood. Whatever gave them hope, he guessed. But from where James was standing, it was very dark, cold and lonely. If this was ascending to what his mom called ‘heaven’, why was it so dark?
For that matter, why was he here before? Was this the waiting room?
Of course, a boney finger had to prod his shoulder at that moment, jolting him out of his fright and into an all new sense of overwhelming panic.
“I knew you would come back sooner or later.” Grated a voice that sounded like slate on steel. The finger that prodded him on the shoulder was cold like the graves of Breen. His shoulder felt numb to the touch. The hairs on his neck shot up to form a protective phalanx. Goosebumps prickled up like growing crops on an endless field.
In a sweeping motion, James swatted the skeletal hand aside. In the same motion, he grabbed for his phaser. The smooth, broom handle like the one device slid in naturally, like a gentleman’s silk glove. James’ fingers danced on the controls, setting them to maximum kill, then fell into their firing positions. His arm swept upwards, estimating the height of the perpetrator’s neck.
As if perfectly timed, his phaser was face to face with Death’s skull.
Problem was, James assumed it was Death, and assumption can be the mother of all f**kups.
“Hey tiger! Watch where you point that thing! I was joking!” Chortled a flirtatious, mischievous being that appeared in front of him.
Slender, graceful hands gently pushed the phaser off to the side and down, away from the person’s body. James saw the being for the first time, face to face. At first sight, James didn’t need to have the phaser pushed away. He dropped it himself, letting it plummet down into the endless darkness below.
What he saw was himself, but he couldn’t identify the being as himself. For one thing, it was female, and an incredible one at that. She kept the Starfleet uniform, badge, rank pips and phaser, just like James. Down to the two solid pips and one half pip, the golden undershirt signifying Security, and the way she wore her phaser a little closer to her back than normal to compensate for longer arms, was the same as James carried himself on every day security duties. But the similarities ended there. The uniform barely hid underneath it a strangely feminine figure that James found amazing, and sadly familiar. Her eyes, underneath eyebrows as sharp as laser scalpels, held a great deal of intelligence and vigor. Those brown eyes were clear as glass. Her pert nose and slim lips were elven in nature, if the reddish blonde hair that was tied in a topknot wasn’t already enough of a dead giveaway. A dusting of brownish freckles decorated her delicate cheeks and pert nose.
“Who… the f**k… are you?” James stuttered, ~”F**k no, not another one… I already have enough of those…”~
“Hey pally boy! Is that the way you greet everyone? If that’s the case, no wonder you have a tricky time making friends!” The female James chuckled, waving her finger and humming ‘ahhh ahhhh ahhhhhhhhhh…’.
“Alright then.” James calmed himself down, willing the phaser back into his hand, and pointing it at the female’s head, “Then KINDLY tell me who you are and why you are here. I’ve been f**ked over by people like you before, so if you try anything…”
“You’ll blow my brains out of the back of my skull and use my remains as one big bonfire starter. Did I get that one right?”
James backed down in surprise, “How in the…”
The woman answered confidently, “Hey, I’m you, remember? Death said it before. We’re all linked. We know what you’re thinking. Got it?”
Bewildered, James responded, “Ummm… yeah… I forgot… Miss…”
”Hey… call me Reason.” She requested sweetly.
Reason strode to James side. Her hand lowered his phaser back to his holster, and then pulled his hand away from his sidearm. She then let go, a warm smile cracking across her face. James was still wary of the new entity, wondering if that was really her that was behind him before, wondering what happened to Death, and why he wasn’t here.
“So… you are Reason?” James probed skeptically.
“That’s right, pally boy.” Reason spoke with attitude, “Reason. As in the person that will steer you the right way. As in that little voice in your head that always tries to tell you to do the right thing. You know, the voice that you ignored because all those other voices were trying to uberscrew you over? Yeah, that would be me. Did you miss me?”
“Ummm… I guess.” Unsure, Corgan answered nonetheless.
“I’m glad to see you too!” Reason gave James a hearty slap on the back and a laugh of a barmaid on Friday night, “It’s been soooooo long! You haven’t heard a decent conscience since… since the Borg incident! Geez, now that screwed you over like a horny targgoth! Man, it’s good to be back! Thank you!”
“Wait a second… thanks for what?” James demanded harshly, “As far as I know, another voice has come in and I didn’t ask for it! As far as I know, you’re trying to trick me!”
Reason looked absolutely hurt. She countered back, though keeping a happy face, “Come on! Everyone has a voice like me! Everybody has a conscience that says things are right or wrong. Some are more aware of it than others. You however… are different. You hear the voices, but they become distorted due to trauma and whatnot. But it’s still there. Some call it instinct. Some say it is the voice of God. Others… guardian angels. But it’s there. And now that I’m out, you’ll be more aware of your instincts… or whatever excuse you want to make to deny that it’s actually me. So, in a nutshell… I’m here. I’m staying here. To throw me out is to tear out a part of your humanity, so don’t even bother.”
“Right…” Corgan distanced himself from Reason, trying to deny the comfort that she gave through his suspicion of her motives.
“No kidding, pally boy. Trust me, I’m legit. I won’t even call you Broken Head, deal?” She shot out her hand for a handshake, which James outright refused.
“No thanks. I can’t trust you yet.” James said.
“Oh fine, don’t trust me, James. I just want to help.” She sadly whimpered.
James felt terrible for hurting this new companion. It looked like he was waiting to die, and it could be for all eternity inside the darkness. It seemed so wrong to spurn the new voice so easily. An eternity could be a long time, and any company would do.
“You want to help me?” Corgan growled authoritatively, “Then get me out of here.”
“HEY! No can do, pally boy!” Reason stepped back in shock, as if his mere suggestion was violating the laws of physics, “What do you think I can do? Rip the afterlife a new one? You’re more nuts than I gave you credit for!”
“So I can’t get out?!” James yelled, exasperated.
“No, I didn’t say that!” Reason halted James in mid rant, “Look, the only way you’ll get out is if you recover in the outside world. You can’t do that right now because… the last I checked, you were a frozen piece of hamburger. It’ll take a miracle to get you back into something resembling a human being.”
“So I’m stuck here?” James asked.
“Yup, ‘fraid so, pally boy. Better make yourself comfortable.” Reason shrugged. She then sat cross legged on the invisible floor. She patted the floor, beckoning for James to sit with her, “Come on, we’ll be here for awhile, either way. There’s only two ways out of the darkness. One way is being revived.”
Corgan finished the thought, “The other way is dying.”
”Correct-o! Now you’re catching on!” Reason cheered.
Sitting next to Reason, James felt afraid of death. Remembering Lexa’s stories about what happened during her coma, and how they were so similar to what he was experiencing, frightened him. He half expected images to appear from the darkness, or expected to float in the darkness forever, drifting silently and waiting for that time in eternity where death or life set him free. Either way, he remembered what happened to Lexa. She was never the same after her coma, not the same woman he loved before.
“I know what you’re thinking, Jimmy.” Reason rested her arm on his shoulder reassuringly, “And all I can say is don’t be afraid. Either way, its a new beginning, with its own trials. You’ll be fine. You know, the sub-conscience can pick up many things about people, places, things… that you can just tell by looking at someone how they are going to turn out.”
”You know these things?” James asked his feminine alter-ego.
“Yessiree. I know small details that you are either afraid to put together, or are too small for the active mind to notice. I’ve got all sorts of theories, dirt… whatever you want. So ask me a question. Any question.” She challenged.
Seeing that there was nothing to do in the darkness, James asked his first question. “Why do I like Excelsior class vessels so much? And why do I hate Galaxies?”
”They remind you of home.” Reason answered, “You were raised on one. That was when dad wasn’t so pushy, and when mom stood up for herself more often. We were happy back then. You also like the design because its curves reminded you of a beautiful woman. You thought… ‘The USS Calgary is like a empress. Beautiful, shapely, adorned in fine crystals and colors.’ Likewise, you don’t like Galaxies because they remind you of suffering and hardship… not to mention she looks like a gang beaten spoonhead!”
“Hey… this game is kinda fun.” James chuckled, “Why do I hate Brhode?”
”He doesn’t respect the dead, doesn’t care about his crew, and he reminds you of your father. Geez James, aren’t you going to challenge me?”
“Ok… ok…” James let go, laughing merrily, “I’ll be good, cross my heart. Hey, for a voice, you’re not so bad.”
“That’s because I don’t try to screw you over.” She pointed out, “Speaking of which… we haven’t seen Death or that Drone lately, haven’t we?”
”Yeah…” James looked around, seeing nothing but the darkness, “Why is that?”
“Well…” Reason hummed, “It’s kinda tricky. It has to do with the USS Defiant.”
”Yeah… go on…”
”And… how can I say it… the ship took a part of you!”
James blinked skeptically, “Really? It did that?”
”Honest to god!” Reason defended herself, “You were right about a sentient driven motive on that ship. However, it wasn’t some beings that were trying to get at you. The ship itself had a sentience. Nasty little bugger that was. Went through hell and back, it felt. Wanted to take more with it. It tried to take you, you know, and it nearly did. It drove you to jump out of that bridge WITHOUT an EVA suit, a ballsy trick in itself.”
“What does that have to do with Death?” James rushed.
“Oh that?” Reason thought, “I said it took a part of you. That was the part of you it easily took. It knew it could affect you this way, drive you over the edge and such. Death was used by the ship to drag you into its services. It already killed three marines to do so. And since Death tried everything… deception, temptation, threats, to bring you in and failed, it used your other phobia. The Borg. Now… don’t consider that fear of the Borg thing gone, but the ship took your most powerful demon. It, in essence, took the most evil part of you.”
“I’m off the ship. Therefore, does that mean Death is on the Defiant?” James asked.
“I think so… though even I can’t be sure.” Reason muttered in a low tone.
The darkness started to part way. At first, it was an insignificant, pin shaped speck in the furthest of distances, a small pinprick of light that appeared out of nowhere, penetrating the void. Then it started to grow and gain ground, rapidly approaching, but slowly growing in size as distance was shortened. The light was bright and terrible to hold to his eyes.
“Geez… I thought you had more time than this!” Reason cursed, “Dammit. But it could be worse, you could be Lexa.”
”How so.” James requested as the light grew to the size of a doorknob.
“She was stuck in here longer than you were, and she was much closer to the edge too. And being in a coma, she had no way out. Here’s your way out, but that doesn’t leave us much time to talk.”
”I see… then do you have any final words?” James yelled as the light grew larger. He felt its magnetic pull drag him towards the light, but he still kept his gaze at Reason.
”James… I… Dammit, I’ll try!” Reason yelled back, “I know what you want to know the most. You know when you went to the bridge, when you read that security log. Remember what it said?”
”Yes… I’ll meet her on the bridge.” James screamed over the howling wind. The pull was stronger, and the light grew enough to encompass the area. He felt his feet slide. Defiantly, he grasped for Reason’s hand. She grabbed back, their hands locking, keeping James from being swept away.
“You were with two women. Rose and Rebecca. What that log said may be right. I can’t tell definitely, but you are latently attracted to both women! Don’t deny it, you have the same odds of making a life with either of them. But you can’t love them both, only one! And only one is meant for you! Choose wisely, James! I don’t want you to be heartbroken again!”
“WHO!?!?” James screamed to compensate for the rushing howl. Reason’s legs dragged from the force of the pull.
“I don’t know who!!!! All I know is that the log is right. Read it yourself when you recover! Just two more things!!!!!!”
”WHAT?!?!?!” His fingers were slipping. Reason’s surprisingly tight grip was starting to falter.
“You must be protective towards them both, either way. Rebecca is in too deep! You and I don’t know who, but she’s part of something bigger than you can imagine! Without you, she may loose her way! And as for Rose… I know you can love her…”
“But Rashid…” James sputtered.
“IS NOT WHO YOU THINK HE IS! Think about it!” Reason snapped, “Rashid wouldn’t harm any creature unless its self defence! Ship madness or not, would he hurt Rose? No! It can’t be Rashid! It’s not like him! You must…”
Reason’s feet gave way from the invisible ground. She flew, crashing into James. Both beings were hurdling through the light at lightspeed, not knowing where they would go…
TBC…
A USS GALAXY FIRST!!! A post written by me, Joe Ammo with assistance and inspiration from Arisa, a stripper who danced to the song that this post's title was derrived from. This lovely and talented blonde also chipped in and helped cobble together the main plot line itself! (Helpful hint #463: Strippers LOVE writers. Every one of them has a story to tell.)
Raven Darkstar surged out of the water with long powerful strides and fell face first into the sand, choking and spitting out the water that had moments before invaded his lungs. He rolled onto his back and immediatly began to take stock of his surroundings.
Gone were the hard, unforgiving deck plates of the USS Defiant. The swimming pool and the rec room were gone too, in thier place were the thick, lush forests of the Black Hills on Earth and the cool, dark waters of Lake Gliosa. The Indian blinked in astonishment as he looked down to see his EVA suit gone and his legs clad in the same leather pants he wore as a teenager.
Also gone was the corpse that only moments before, had dragged him into the water.
He rolled over and pushed himself up on arms that were lean and sinewy rather than corded with thick bands of muscle.
Sensing something amiss, he crawled to the edge of the water. Darkstar peered into the lake and gasped as there in the reflection of the moonlight he saw his own face...12 years younger.
The disbelief painted across his brow, he ran his hands over his cheeks and forehead.
"What in the hell..."
Giggling from behind broke his concentration and he turned to see the face that had haunted his nightmares for over a decade. There she stood before him, black hair swaying from side to side as tilted her head. Her legs tan and lean, her smile sparkling like the stars in the sky. The woman who had once made his heart flutter.
"F..Falling Waters?" Darkstar said - but found that he couldn't hear his own voice.
"Catch me if you can, silly boy." the girl said, as she broke into a playful trot into the forest.
The clap of thunder echoed so loudly through the sky, that the leaves on the trees shook. Brilliant flashes of lightning streaked across the horizon, and the pitter patter of raid drops began to fall in soft puddles in the sand around the still kneeling indian.
He watched as Falling Waters stopped and turned - wiggling her finger for him to follow, only this time there was something different. Her skin had begun to pale slightly.
"NO! Dont go in there!!" Darkstar screamed, yet again he couldn't hear his own voice. "Falling Waters!!!"
The woman smiled and then disappeared into the thick forest.
Raven lept to his feet and ran headlong into the darkness, still calling out in a silent scream that somehow was lost in his own throat. The branches whipped angrily against his bare chest as he moved, leaving painful welts acorss his young chest.
Ahead of him, Falling Waters had stopped once again and was staring at him. Her skin was almost translucent now, and blood seemed to be trickling from her mouth and down her chin.
"Almost there, Raven! Just a little farther. You'll love it." she said and turned to run a little farther into the forest. Again Darkstar screamed and again no sound came forth from his mouth. The rain began to hammer down with a ferocity now while thunder and lightning crashed in the sky.
The young indian followed her deeper into the woods, falling into the mud. He spit it out and continued to run again until he reached a small clearing. There Falling Waters stood smiling. Her flesh had begun to rot now, cracking and peeling.
"This is it.." she said waving her arm behind her. "I come here all the time. Isn't it beautiful?" she asked.
Darkstar looked past the ledge of the clif and saw the surging waters below them, bubbling and boiling as if heated by some sort of fire unable to be seen by anyone. The sky exploded angrily in spectacular jagged crashes of lightning. The wind drove the raindrops painfully against the pair and the young Indian had to squint to see.
Again thunder echoed, seemingly through his very body.
"You have to go!" Raven screamed worldessly again, panic evident on his face. "If you stay here, you will die!"
"I have always wanted to show you this place. It's something special. Just like you." she said, blood flowing freely from her eyes and mouth now. Her skin decaying and falling, leaving pieces of bone visable beneath.
"We have to go before he gets here!" Darkstar screamed again, trying desperatly to be heard.
"I love you, Raven." Falling waters said - her face suddenly back to the same healthy shape it had been.
Then a blanket of silence fell across them. The rain, the thunder, the lightning all fell mute.
Not a sound could be heard.
Until Laughing Horse Log walked out of the shadows of the forest.
To be continued...
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