Lt Alex Storm - Proof Is in the Pain
Karen Morris
(( Caspia District Sub-Levels - Boraxian Cityship ))
Descending -- Each step drew her deeper into the sickly-sweet perfumed aromas, brilliant light, and stifling silence. The silence pressed against her ears until she wanted to shake it off like water. The smell assaulted her nostrils, waging a war she couldn’t win, and the light drew her eyelids together in a squint.
oO Every horror story starts with stairs,” she muttered in her thoughts.
Imril: Ready when you are, Sirs.
Bancroft: ::to Storm:: On your six, Lieutenant.
Storm shot a glance back at Imril and Bancroft.
Storm: Phasers ready, but pointed at the ground unless you actually see a hostile.
Silveira: Response
Alex’s phaser tracked with her eyes. Her steps, even and silent, reached the concrete-like pavement. The lights burned white-blue, too clean for a place that smelled this old. Alex could taste the heavily scented air on her tongue. It was as if someone wanted to assault their senses to disorient them. She braced for the inevitable shriek of an alarm that never came.
Ten feet from the stairs, was a sharp corner. Corners were both a blessing and a curse to a tactical officer. Behind the corner offered a modicum of protection, but around the corner lurked the unknown like a spider. You never knew if it was going to be beneficial or venomous.
Alex looked back over her shoulder and gestured for the group to wait. She sidled up to the corner. For a moment, she lowered her phaser and wiped her sweaty right palm on her uniform pants before grasping the cold metal of the phaser’s grip once again. Nodding her head slowly as she counted to three, she shot a glance around the corner. There was no one there, only a door barring their progress.
Storm stepped out into the middle of the corridor and gestured for the group to join her.
Storm: It seems safe for the moment.
She dropped her phaser to her side as she looked on at the large, foreboding, and yet incredibly pristine door covered in scrawls that Alex didn’t recognize. As Bancroft came up behind her shoulder, from the look on his face and the bewildered sense he was giving off, he likely couldn’t decipher it either. Alex felt like something in the air was pushing against them. Was it a known warning not to proceed - like a parent’s sideways glance or a teacher’s narrowed eyes?
Bancroft: I’d say ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here,’ but that feels redundant at this point…
Storm: Lieutenant? I don’t suppose you can work some magic on this door? If you crack it, though, let me know before you open it.
Silveira: Response
Peach, purple, and golden colored lights flashed in different sequences of six repeatedly. Alex’s eyes glanced at the lights and then at the engineer.
Imril: ::Quietly, just above a whisper:: Won’t be a moment. Time me, if you like.
Bancroft: ::whispering:: I’d help, but my last attempt ended with singed eyebrows and one very disgruntled Bolian.
But suddenly, the air that seemed to be pushing them away earlier now seemed to draw them in. That worried Alex even more.
Storm: ‘Fine, have it your way,’ my mother used to say. Always right before disaster. Yeah. ::Nodding:: That’s how this feels… like we’re tempting fate and about to lose - big time. The problem is, we don’t have a choice.
Silveira: Response
At his suggestion, Alex had timed his escapades. Thirty-eight of the shortest seconds of her life before a hum grew inside the door, before several clicks and an obvious movement inside the door caused it to shutter. Alex once again raised her phaser and stood near the door’s aperture.
A loud moan and several whirring clicks precipitated the actual opening of the door…
And then…Alex held her breath and looked around. Her shoulders wanted to relax. The simple fact that she was tempted to turn around and laugh at their absurd fright over this door put her further on edge. The sirens were calling to them to relax, to take a breath, and to smile.
The group made their way through the door, but as soon as all of them were past the latching mechanism, the lights started an erratic flash-flicker. Some were bright, many fell dark, all made the hairs on Alex’s neck stand on end.
Several things were apparent. The priestly incense was more intense in this section of the corridor and so thick that Alex nearly choked on it. The floor in here was no longer cement or stone-like. It was a black marble inlaid with runes of gold, an altar to the gods. Were they the ritual sacrifice?
And suspended in the middle of the corridor was a model of a Boraxian ship. Was it taunting them to fly away knowing they couldn’t?
Bancroft: ::low, to the team:: So… anyone else feel an overwhelming urge to shoot the toy and walk briskly away?
Storm: To shoot the ship? No, to sprint through this section, yes.
Silveira/Imril: Response
The grip of her phaser was no longer cold, but warm to the touch from the tightness of her grasp. Looking forward and then back, stepping one foot in front of the other with subconscious precision, Alex continued forward. Her shoulders taught, her jaw set, she stepped up near the suspended little ship.
But just behind Sil and with a crack, the door pivoted shut, and the locking mechanism clicked into place, one after another. She found herself counting — six — without meaning to.
And then the brilliant lights outside made sense, because they were plunged into darkness. The contrast made Alex quite blind until she switched on the light on her phaser.
Bancroft: ::under his breath:: Fantastic. A homebrew haunted house.
Alex caught the light behind her and looked to see its source - Roy’s tricorder.
Storm: What can you tell us, Ensign?
Even the sound of the word tasted off on her lips. This was one of those times when Alex hated formalities. They were in a life-or-death situation, and here she was spouting ranks.
Silveira/Imril: Response
A crackle permeated a tiny crevice at the top of the walls just before a light, mocking voice issued forth.
Andoren: ::over the speaker:: Ooh, my little lights… you thought the flame would welcome you? No, no. Fire doesn’t embrace. It consumes. ::beat:: I admit it’s crude – this little parlor trick of mine. But one must work with what one has. ::soft laugh, then sharper:: Tick… tock… Burn bright – while you can.
Alex rushed forward to the next door, knowing it was secured and praying it wasn’t. But as she reached it and set her hand on it, a sizzle could be heard. She gasped, pulled her hand away, and dropped her phaser.
Storm: Aghh!
She quickly stepped back, cradling her burned hand in her other. Pain … pain meant she was alive. Alive meant the team still had a chance.
Silveira/Imril: Response
Storm: Don’t touch the walls or the door. He called us candles. I think he means us to burn.
Alex picked up her phaser and holstered it. Fortunately, she had burned her non-dominant hand. But she quickly felt a presence at her side. Alex looked up and cast an apologetic glance at the doctor.
Storm: I should have expected something like that. Imril, can you see if you can open the next door before we broil?
Sweat was already dripping off Alex’s forehead and pooling under her uniform, and she winced as Bancroft tended to her hand.
Silveira/Imril/Bancroft: Response
Alex stomped her foot as the pain intensified. Her palm was starting to turn white from the heat. Through gritted teeth, she said…
Storm: Just because I’m a tactical officer doesn’t mean I’m not a big baby when it comes to pain.
Silveira/Imril/Bancroft: Response
Breathing slowly in and out, trying to control her response to the pain still searing through her hand, she quipped through a clenched jaw.
Storm: Hey, Imril, I hear saunas are supposed to be good for you, but let’s not test that theory for very long, shall we?
Silveira/Imril/Bancroft: Response
~*~
Tags / TBC
~*~
Lt Alex Storm
Tactical Officer
USS Artemis
O240103SK2