Mikali sh'Shar - Drifting Echoes Of The Past, Fading To Quiet
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David Adams
Nov 19, 2020, 7:08:44 PM11/19/20
to Gorkon
(( Red Carrier Employee Domicile 14, And Simultaneously, Bridge, USS Independence-A ))
Mikali sh'Shar was struggling to eat her breakfast and save the ship at the same time. Ghosts surrounded her, echoes of the past, calling out commands to her. Orders. Suggestions. Criticisms.
Her face ached; she felt hot all over especially inside her head, which burned as though it was packed full of hot coals. Her eye was akin to the chute into which those hot coals were being poured.
But her friend Tasha MacFarlane was here now, and that would make things better.
MacFarlane: sh’Shar, want t’ tell me what’s goin’ on?
What was going on? The ship was in peril and about to be overrun with evil alter-universe copies of them all, her breakfast had suddenly gone missing, and if she didn't hurry up, she would not be as early as she liked to be for her shift in the drydock.
But Tasha was here, so it was okay.
sh'Shar: Don't make a fuss, okay? I'm... I'm good. I can still fly.
MacFarlane: No yeh can’t. Not until yeh ’ave proven yerself an’ seen Benna, remember?
Oh, yes, of course. Benna... yes, this was the moment she found out. Found out about her...
Velana: Congratulations, Ensign. It looks like you have a very healthy parasite.
But how could that be happening now, if Benna was nearly ten years old? Everything felt jumbled up, fuzzy. What was going on...
Reality. She needed a grasp on reality beyond her currently tenuous hold. Covered in sweat and trembling, her skin ghoulishly pale as an Aenar, Mikali pushed back her chair in a panic, staggering backward until her back was up against the bulkhead of her quarters, cowering against the wall fearfully.
Tasha's eyes lingered on the eyepatch, her point of concern obvious.
sh'Shar: Tasha! You have to stop them from taking me away! I can't abandon my post! Everyone's in danger and I have to save them! Evil people are coming, wicked copies of us all, and they're going to try and seize the ship... kill everyone! Get Wulfantine to the brig, he needs to contain the breakout before it's too late!
MacFarlane: Dunnae worry sh’Shar, security apprehended Wulfantine jus’ before I got ‘ere. They ‘ave th’ breakout contained.
Wait, they arrested Wulfantine?! But... he was the chief of security. Why would they arrest—
Oh.
Oh, they must have meant the other Wulfantine. That psychotic killer. The murderer with the knife... the one with the empty eyes, hollow and full of malice and intentions too malevolent to consider rational. He terrified her. Scared the life out of her, honestly, and sh'Shar was not easily rattled.
He didn't belong in the brig. He belonged in the dirt but she'd settle for a disintegration. Hopefully, where-ever he was now, he was dead.
Velana: You have lost a lot of blood, so we need to get you to Sickbay right now. ::She glanced around and sh'Shar put her gaze back on her console. :: Lieutenant?
If the breakout was contained, then what happened to all the bodies on the Bridge? Alleran was supposed to be shot in the spine. There were supposed to be wounded here, others were injured too. She was supposed to be safe in sickbay, helping out with the hurt, the injured... despite being one herself.
Everything just jumbled together.
sh’Shar: No, wait, no. I've got to get going, my shift is going to start soon. Save the ship, save the crew, fix the shuttles, fix the worker bees, fix civilian ships, get a new hand, new eye, new life... transplant Benna, gotta do that, gotta transfer her to zh'Khall... so she can grow up big and smart and strong. But to get to Benna, I have to work... I have to work...
MacFarlane: Take m’ ‘and sh’Shar, we’ll get medical t’ check yeh out an’ yeh’ll be back t’ work in no time.
To medical? No, that was exactly what she didn't want, they would want to fix the eye. Which would take time. Way too much time; time she couldn't be spending working, trying to fix things. Fix ships and her life. And the copies of the others might still be around. Hunting her. Like Wulfantine...
Velana: I'm sorry, Ensign. If you want to keep all of your fingers, you can't stay here. Someone else can take the helm. ::She stood up and looked around.:: Captain Riley?
The voices. They were all so loud. And she was so dizzy and weak and in pain.
sh’Shar: But I can't go. I have a shift soon. I have to get to work, I can't have sick days. I have to get my... get promoted again, to Lieutenant. I have to re-enlist. And... wait, first things first.
Everything was so messed up. Was she an officer or not? Confusion. Everything was a fog, a wet blanket smothering her ability to sort through the narrative of her life. Events and people and places appeared jumbled, taken out of strict linear sequence and presented to her as a confusing mismatch of fever-forged blending.
sh'Shar: I don't... I don't understand. Velana, how are you on Iana Station? You're... you're on the Independence, but it was lost.... wait, where am I?
Mikali scratched at her eyepatch, trying to figure it all out. It itched.
Tasha whispered something to Catscratch. Something she missed. In return, Catscratch leaned in and whispered something else to the security staff, saying something that even Mikali, with her sharp hearing, could not hear.
MacFarlane: ::Turning back to sh’Shar, Tasha stood and took a deep breath:: MIKALI SH’SHAR! I 'AVE ‘AD ENOUGH O’ YER ANDORIAN BRAVADO AN’ STUBBORNNESS F’ ONE DAY. YEH WILL GO T’ MEDICAL OR I WILL ‘AVE SECURITY HAUL YEH DOWN THERE BY YER EARS, D’ YEH UNDERSTAND ME ENSIGN!!
It probably wasn't standard psychiatric responses to a mental health crisis, but the shouting cut through the confusing fog of her infection-riddled brain, rooting her in the present like a dragging anchor snagging on the ocean floor, and for a brief moment, sh'Shar realised where she really was. When she was.
She was on Iana Station. Tasha was yelling at her to take care of herself. Catscratch, her fur puffed out, was looking terrified of what she'd seen. A bunch of medical technicians. Security officers. All of whom were nearby. For her.
This much attention, all for one person who was nothing and meant nothing, meant that there really was a big problem and she was causing it.
Mikali did not want to cause problems. All she wanted to do was have Benna back and to provide her with everything she needed to grow. But the only way to reach that goal was to work. As she struggled to stand, some part of her slowly came to know... that was not going to happen any time soon.
Despite the "unconventional" nature of it, being yelled at helped. It grounded her in the present; that voice was louder than all the others, and she focused on it, trying to square her brain away.
sh’Shar: Yessir.
MacFarlane: Response
Mikali dragged herself up to her feet. She could barely stand. She felt so sick suddenly, dizzy and weak and frail.
sh'Shar: It's... I don't feel good. You're right. I think I'm actually really sick.
MacFarlane: Response
She stumbled forward, grabbing hold of the back of her chair, her good eye closing briefly as she tried to reestablish her equilibrium. Speaking was hard, requiring a lot of focus.
sh'Shar: Will you come to medical with me? Just to get it checked out.
MacFarlane: Response
Whatever strength she had left, she tried to spend it wisely. By doing what she was told.
sh'Shar: Okay.
She took one step forward, toward Tasha, but even that was too much; her whole body went stiff as a board. Her legs didn't work, the limbs suddenly rigid and unbending. Overbalanced, and unable to even walk, Mikali pitched forward, into the deck, her forehead hitting the metal with a loud whack.
MacFarlane: Response
--
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