Whispers in the Night (part 2)
Posted on Fri Sep 12th, 2014 @ 1:00pm by Lieutenant Commander Dylan Blake & Petty Officer 3rd Class Sehra Vahn
Edited on on Fri Sep 12th, 2014 @ 1:02pm
1,025 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission: What Dreams May Come
[CONTINUED]
"Cadet Blake!"
The stern voice of the middle aged instructor pulled the pea-headed lad out of his stupor. His open staring of his attractive classmate to be precise. Better still she'd been returning his advances with the fluttering of her eyelids and flushed cheeks. Now however she'd turned shy and innocent looking as Professor Hamleton swept through the class looking vivid.
"Mister Blake!" the voice barked again.
Quickly Dylan responded rather meekly as if nothing had happened. "Yes Professor."
"Pay attention!" she snapped. "Everything I'm trying to teach you will save your life! Heaven forbid you make it outside the Academy let alone out into space Mister Blake. Now prove to me you were listening... You're EV suit begins to loose pressure, what should you do?"
Dammit! This isn't good...oh frack now what? Should have listened to that old hack instead of chasing Rebecca... She was hot though, never pegged her for the woman on woman type... her friend was dam good too.... Oh, crap the alarm...don't panic Dylan, you've got this right...right?
The loud beeping was president, as too was the grim voice warning him of imminent death if he couldn't equalize the pressure soon. In the vast coldness and vacuum of space Ensign Blake was sweating professedly and grasping for breath. Something was seriously wrong with his suit, a rupture or tear - only God knows how it happened. The suits were regularly maintained and there was no obtruding areas on the hull Commander Waters and himself were inspected following the territory skirmish with the Romulans. None the less Blake was in serious trouble, floundering for breath unable to call for help or save himself.
A frantic sweep of the hull revealed Commander Water had simply disappeared!
The cold fist of panic gripped his heart tighter. Where'd he go? Now what do I do? Sluggishly he lifted a arm desperately searching to quall the alarm or raise the ship... then his arm struck flesh... his own flesh - his suit had vanished, and so too had the ship!
"Oh sh-" a very real and slightly disturbed Dylan Blake woke from his sleep with a start. Sitting upright catching his breath he took stock of his surrounds comforting his jumbled brain he wasn't lost in deep space without a suit he was safe in his quarters.
A second figure occupied the bed space beside him.
Fondly he smiled leaning over her slightly to press a kiss upon her brow... that's when he noted the trembling of her body and the tear trails upon her cheek. His smile slipped away as he pressed closer pulling her into his arms hoping to sooth away her tears.
"No!"
The raspy anguish of Sehra's cry was uncharacteristic, despite the fact that sleep so often left her with a deep husk that always betrayed how groggy she was first thing in the morning. The Betazoid wasn't a morning person, she never woke particularly graciously and would, wherever possible, barter or bargain for extra minutes under the covers.
What she didn't usually do was push away so violently that she ended up on the floor.
There was little doubt as to the intent of the shove she gave Dylan as he moved closer though, a reaction that propelled the two of them instantly apart and, in the ensuing confusion, deposited her in a flailing heap on the floor of his bedroom. She wasn't awake though, or at least not fully-conscious, and, as if to emphasise that, the device on her temple was emitting a low-level whine as it broadcast the significant change in her brainwave patterns. Tangled in the sheet without control of her velocity, Sehra hit the ground with a thud and whimpered, mumbled protests to an invisible assailant leaving not much room for interpretation.
In case the dream of suffering asphyxiation hadn't been enough to kick start Dylan's alertness, the violent shove he received from his partner certainly bought him wide awake. With a curse lingering in the air, Dylan quickly scrambled across the springy bed and landed beside Sehra with all the dignity she'd mustered a moment before.
"Sehra," he called taking hold of her shoulders. "Come on, babe, wake up for me." He shook her gently, ignoring the wave of deja vu of her spell of unconsciousness.
The resounding slap that connected with Dylan's cheek shocked them both.
It was the sting of it, as well as the gun-crack sound, that forced Sehra's eyes open wide with a gasp. It was a ragged intake of air, as one might take after breaking through the surface of particularly turbulent seas, but it was enough to kick-start her brain. Images dissipated, only to be replaced by the stunned expression of the man whose very presence had enveloped her with a sense of peaceful calm as she'd drifted off to sleep only hours earlier.
"Dylan." Her voice was a hoarse croak, the pulse point at her throat still pounding.
Shocked and bewildered, he sat back upon his heels rubbing the blistered cheek. "What was all that about?" he asked tentatively, worried he'd inadvertently done something wrong.
Sehra's mind was a haze of half-remembered images already dissipating as real stimuli flooded her senses. Her hand still smarted from the slap but, more than that, she became aware of how hot she felt, seemingly a direct contradiction to how few clothes she was actually wearing.
"I was..." Confused, she glanced around the darkened room, her brow flickering with consternation. "I don't remember. There was..." She reached up to touch her throat, fingers tentatively probing as if expecting to find swelling. "Something had me by the throat, I couldn't breathe."
"It was just a dream," he assured her. "You're fine, no one's going to hurt you, especially while I'm around." He shuffled closer sensing she wasn't about to strike him again. "You OK?
Dark, obsidian eyes stared up at him, no longer frightened but clouded by horrified concern nonetheless.
"Did I just hit you?"
(To be continued...)
Lieutenant Dylan Blake
Chief Operations Officer
Petty Officer Third Class Sehra Vahn
Counselor
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