Ensign Braya - Hotwire Grounded

[Braya of Clan Ralnek]

((Deck 14, Psychiatric Ward | DS224))

Explaining the loop felt like the most useless part of it all. Saying these things over and over. Again and again. The words never stuck. No one would remember but het. Back on the Bounty, there hadn’t been the luxury of time to go into details. Trying to convey her situation when the ship was moments from disaster wasn’t helpful. There was only time to try and escape. Die. And repeat. Now that the situation had evolved, that she could go into the details, it didn’t feel any more useful. Quite the opposite, in fact, if no one would recall a word of it. It was a waste. The only meaningful effort was in breaking the cycle. 

Perhaps convincing others had to be part of that plan. 

Stendhal: I hear how important this is to you, Braya. Help me understand… when you say you had a chance to break the loop, what does breaking it look like from your point of view?

The room was entirely too bright, and Braya had to keep her face turned from the ceiling. That gave her the misfortune of picking between staring at the wall, or the Counsellor. 

She chose the former. 

Every so often, her eyes would dart toward the door. Looking for an exit was a difficult habit to break, especially for a pilot. But no one was coming in, and the straps on her arms were designed with far stronger beings than her in mind. Like it or not, for the time being, she was not getting out of the room without Stendhal’s say so.   

Braya: ::Swallowing, collecting herself before speaking again:: I don’t quite catch y’er meanin’. You askin’ what my plan was? Or are you gettin’...metaphorical on me? Is this one of them questions ‘bout my feelin’s?

Restless fingers wrapped over the restraint straps and tugged at the elastic hem of her jumpsuit. 

Stendhal: I want to know more so I can help you. What was your plan to stop the loop? What needed to happen, in your view, for it to finally end?

Braya: ::Snorting:: Well. Dyin’ only resets it. So that ain’t it. That damn Q, he’s obsessed with time. And ‘e pulls on it, like a puppet master tuggin’ strings. So, the key’s got t’be there. If ya’ go fast enough. And I mean touchin’ the speed o’ light. No warp drive. No worm holes. No cheatin’. Then time stops, an’ there ain’t no more strings to tug. They snap. I’m free. 

The plan Bray described she did so in earnest, like someone talking about a mundane weather pattern, and not breaking the fundamental laws of physics. She went on to lay it all out for Stendhal; how she would take her Valkyrie to the nearest star, and slingshot through its corona. Her antimatter would be used in a direct annihilation rocket. Between the gravity well and the improvised particle drive, she was convinced it could carry her all the way to 1.0 c.

And if it didn’t, if it failed and she and her ship were torn to atoms, she could just try again on the next loop.

It was lunacy painted with a coat of jargon. The universe could not be cheated in this way, but Braya’s eyes were animated with a belief that remained difficult to reason with. 

Stendhal: It's a shame that Lieutenant Yinn is back on Bolarus; she was great at this kind of thing. She and I even traveled to the future once, and we ended up on some kind of Orion-Betazoid disco moon. Terrible stuff! ::Karen was trying to distract Braya from her looping.

Braya: ::Brow knitting:: Ya’ think it’s all in my head, don’t ya’? This ain’t some dream to analyze. I know what happened. I can feel the ship explodin’ around us. A hundred thousand times. The heat of it. Metal comin’ apart. Blastin’ into me. And them were the lucky ones. The times got ejected into space. Dyin’ out there. Cold. Alone. No air. Those…those were the worst. 

Stendhal: Response?

She took a deep breath that made her ribs shudder on its way out. 

Braya: ::Voice cracking:: I can’t fly. I can’t walk outta’ this room. I can’t even sit up. Every time I try t’talk about it, folks look at me like I’ve lost my mind. I didn’t go through that hell just t’go insane. I’m just the only one who remembers. I punched that miserable CloQ in his smug face, and he wants me t’suffer for it. Fine. I’ve suffered. Now I need to get free. 

Stendhal: Response?

Something in that reply made Braya turn her head toward Karen for the first time. She blinked bloodshot eyes and studied the woman carefully for a few cautious moments before speaking. 

Braya: Ya’ really went there? The future? ::Lifting her head, just to tap it back down on the metal bed:: The other docs tell me it’s all up here. In my skull. But…how do I ever know? For certain? That I won’t loop again, I mean. When I die. ::Eyes red and wet, searching Karen’s face, tone desperate:: How do I figure that out? How do I prove the cycle's done? Can you help? 

Stendhal: Response?

Tag/TBC

===

Ensign Braya of Clan Ralnek

HCO

USS Eagle

E240205B13