Phoenix Rising

Posted on Fri Sep 25th, 2009 @ 8:51am by

951 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: The Shining Truth
Location: Unknown
Timeline: Unknown

OOC: Hello everyone, I’m back. First let me say that I’m sorry for having left at such a critical point in the mission, but I was dealing with some rather unpleasant real life matters that simply didn’t leave me time for simming. However, I’m back, and I’m excited to get back to posting with those of you that I know and to get to know and starting posting with those I don’t. For those of you who are new, and those who don’t remember, as it has been some time, you may want to go back and read the posts: Meanwhile… (from mission 1.3) and Stricken Conscience and Departures (from 1.4) before this one, as they’re quite integral to what’s happening here; just a quick little preview of things to come. Anyway, thanks to all of you for your patience; I’m really glad to be back. –Ernie/Larkin

ON:

There are few more destructively powerful feelings in the universe than that of being utterly alone. It tears at the lose strings of the psyche like a predator pouncing upon weak prey, leaving man, woman and child alike with the sensation of being adrift in an infinite and vacant abyss. Few things are capable of conveying this feeling quite like the black, foreboding eyes of deep space. Adrift in this particular abyss was a small shuttle craft with a single bedraggled occupant. Prisoner 342, as his captors had called him, had come to know the feeling of loneliness quite well during his stay at a VISTA prison facility, but even he couldn’t help but feel a sense of futility, as he stared out the windows of his escape vehicle.

Perhaps it was the death the man who could arguable be called his only friend, the VISTA warden Elijah Wendess, which was the source of his sorrow, as his friend had sacrificed his life to save his own. Upon his escape, 342 could think of nothing except leaving that accursed star system far behind him, but now, as he stared into the void, he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d failed his comrade.

The shuttle’s computer let out a short series of beeps, as it corrected the vessel’s trajectory to circumnavigate the effects of a distant black hole. “Computer,� the occupant spoke, his attention having been drawn to the fact that he now had a federation computer at his disposal, something which had not been true for years. “Play classical music, light and relaxing.� After a moment of processing, the soothing sounds of the ancient human composer, Bach, filtered into the small cabin; the man felt better. Listening to the music, the realization that he was actually free came to him for the first time; thoughts of running through fields of green grass, and swimming in clear, cool streams of water danced into his mind, and prisoner 342 found himself laughing, almost hysterically.

*****

Days passed on his journey to Federation Outpost 482, and the shuttle’s occupant was peculiarly glad of this fact. He had little to no idea what he was going to say to whoever he met upon arrival. There was so much that they needed to know, and so much that he needed to know about what was going on in the galaxy. From time to time, the guards in the prison had given him status updates on what they called their, “war with the Federation.� They’d constantly boasted about captured vessels and starports, about how they had infiltrated Starfleet to its highest echelons. At first these stories had worried him, but as time passed he began to wonder why, with the war seemingly going so well for VISTA, it had not yet been won. Never the less, faced with the prospect of finding the truth, he worried.

In an effort to keep what had come to feel like a slender grip on sanity, he challenged the computer to countless games of chess. His frequent matches with Wendess had improved his skill and abilities considerably, but the computer was as challenging an opponent as ever. When theses games finally lost their appeal, he called up text of various novels stored in the databanks. At first he enjoyed them immensely, but, as the content of one became deeply involved with social interaction, he actually found himself growing uncomfortable, for which he felt quite silly. Yet again, he was nearly loathing the completion of his escape, as it had been so long since he had interacted with other people that he almost dreaded the prospect.

*****

Just over two weeks after leaving the system in which he had been imprisoned, the shuttle and its occupant came out of warp at the edge of the Lartarin-5 star system. Circling the eighth planet in this system, there was a small Jupiter Class space station: Federation Outpost 482. As his shuttle grew near, 342 once again began to feel quite apprehensive. For the smallest of moments, he seriously considered attempting to leave the system before the outpost’s sensors detected him. Before a foolish impulse could cause him to act on these feelings, a foreign sounding voice sprang from the shuttle’s intercom. “Unidentified shuttle, this is Starfleet Outpost 482, can we render assistance?�

Scrambling to activate his comm. system, 342 spoke brokenly, “Um… yes… I uhh…I need help.�

“Certainly, can you identify yourself?�

For one horrifying moment, the man couldn’t recall his name. It had been years since anyone had bothered to use anything other than his number designation, and he had nearly forgotten. After a few moments of mumbling, he replied, “Uh…L-Larkin. Ensign Kevin Larkin.�

OFF:

Lt. Kevin Larkin
Chief Science Officer
USS Archimedes

 

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