The Heart of Darkness (part 5)

Posted on Tue Oct 21st, 2014 @ 10:05am by Commander Rylie Cattmor & Lieutenant Jensen Foster
Edited on on Tue Oct 21st, 2014 @ 10:13am

1,016 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: What Dreams May Come
Location: The Edmorn

[Excerpt from Part 4:]

"Lieutenant, wait..." Rylie said into the coms before she sensed what Miral's plan actually was, "All right, go on. Just be careful." It almost physically hurt to let her go alone, but Orin was still blinded, Blake was still in the other compartment, which just left her and the doctor. She certainly didn't want to go, even though she still sensed no-one else alive on the ship. Without taking her eyes off of Orin, she spoke into the com mic, "Lieutenant Blake, you may as well beam back to the Ranger. Set up the transfer of the data logs, or a way to access them, then get some sack time." Then she went on to Orin, "Despite the situation and this spidey-sense, whatever that's suppose to mean, you have until the time it takes for Lieutenant Miral to return, and if you haven't found anything conclusive, we getting out of here no matter what your gut is telling you. Mister Foster, I know it's just as uncomfortable for you, but I want you here with your empathic talents to see if you can find anything to back up Lieutenant ch'Valri's claims that we've missed... something."

[...And now Part 5.]

She then managed to blink her eyes and walk over to one of the control panels and leant her backside on the edge and finally let out a breath as she continued willing the burning from the sides of her head away, without much success.

"I'll give it my best shot, Commander." Jensen then took few seconds to mentally check himself. Filtering Cattmor, ch'Valri, and Miral's emotions down to where they were just an insignificant blip on his mental radar, he opened his gift outward. Encompassing the entirety of the Edmorn his ability alerted him to only residual empathic energy. It was all fairly low-key, until a sudden spike in psychic energy nearly knocked him off his feet. Whatever, or whomever, he was picking up on was long dead, but their fear and sorrow had been enough to leave a mark. He knew without having to ask that he'd more than likely broadcast and the other two had felt it just as intensely.

He stumbled back just a bit, catching himself on the wall behind him only at the last second. Jensen felt tears welling up at the corner of his eyes. He hadn't felt such fear and sorrow like that since... since Kai. It was a wonder Cattmor or ch'Valri hadn't picked up on it yet. Then again, maybe they hadn't because they weren't as in-tuned to empathic energy as he was. Or maybe the energy had just been lying in wait. Waiting for someone of a enough of a sensitive nature to pick up on it.

Rylie looked up from configuring her phaser just as she'd sensed Foster's thoughts on what he suspected he'd found. "Doctor?"

Whatever the case, Jensen spoke into the comm, his voice shaking slightly, "Commander, I... I don't know if this helps or not, but someone on this ship has left a psychic mark so s-strong that it's almost like a message. I... I think it is a message. I can try to decipher it... but not sure if I'll be successful."

"A message?" Rylie said more than asked. Of course, she'd heard of abilities like these back on Athera -- empaths that were able to read residual echoes of surroundings. She remembered vaguely talking with someone that had such a gift which was especially useful in homocide cases, where there was almost an explosion of mental energy when a person died, that it latched on to anything in the surrounding area. If caught quickly enough, the empath could sense all that the person was, their hopes, dreams, or their fears. It took great practice and skill to do it successfully, but if there was a chance here. Wary of the impact, she said, "I need you to try, Lieutenant. Just in case."

Jensen took note of Cattmor's request though barely acknowledged it, curiosity piquing his interest to such a degree that he was virtually feeling out there before the order was even processed. He wasn't really even sure what he was doing, or rather why he was doing it -- with everything else, there seemed a fine line between curiosity and sense. Breathing deeply and evenly, he sent out just a small tendril of empathic energy to just lick the psychic mark --

--a scream, a high pitched wail filled his head.

He shut it out as best he could, but the image of a personal data recorder was still strongly evident in his mind. He'd also seen it before. Continuing to reach out carefully, he started to traverse the chamber they were standing in. Visions flashed across his darkened line of sight; the sound of laboured breaths, or panting clouded his ears, then the sight of a bridge, or some other ramp came crashing into view causing him to jump and step sharply back.

"It's here." he said with a barely audible whisper. He stooped down and picked up a small silver cylindrical device with a cone at one end, the sides of it smeared with alien blood. As soon as he'd touched it, a pipe came down towards his head. Instictively though not without great effort, he turned everything black, darker than the room was already and pressed the replay button on the side...

~~~~

The recording was badly echoing with static, but the fitful panting breaths of a woman could still be heard. Then some shuffling like they were attempting to get in between a couple of tight bulkheads. "I find it hard to believe that the microphone can't pick up my heartbeat," a female voice said with a whisper, "so to whomever finds this, I apologise. I desperately need to hide, but I also have to tie down the log recorders. No doubt they'll send other rescue ships. I do doubt they'll find anyone left alive."

(To be continued...)

Lieutenant Commander Rylie Cattmor
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Jensen Foster
Chief Medical Officer

 

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