Ensign Dylan Bryce: Alignment in Shadows
Kait
((Dark Hallway : Ivory Tower))
Bryce: If you really are a commander... if that really is your ship... we can’t stay in this closet and wait for them to find us. Tell me you know how to get us to that docking umbilical.
Dylan watched him, her heart doing a frantic, uneven thrum against her ribs that made her feel a little lightheaded. He almost answered immediately. Almost. Instead, she saw his face go tight, as if he were searching for a frequency he couldn’t quite find. He looked totally lost. He didn’t know these hallways. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten here.
His grip eased. It wasn’t a decision to be kind, but the tension slowly drained from him until the blade was no longer biting at her skin.
Sael: I know that ship. ::His voice was rougher now.:: I do not know this place.
The words just sort of hung there between them, cold and heavy. Outside, the silence of the corridor finally broke. It started as a faint, rhythmic vibration through the floor, followed by the unmistakable, hollow metallic clack of heavy boots against the deck plates. It was a controlled, professional sound: Starfleet security, sweeping, with the exact cadence she’d heard echoing through New Zealand Colony whenever there was a drill.
He looked down at her again. Dylan realized she was watching him differently now. He wasn’t just the scary guy with the knife; he was the only other person who was as empty as she was. He was a variable she couldn’t account for, a diplomatic incident her mom would have spent weeks preparing for, and right now he was just as freaked out as she was.
Slowly, very slowly, he moved the blade away from her neck. He didn’t put it away, but at least she could breathe without the metal biting into her.
Sael: If I release you, you will not call out.
It sounded like he was trying to be threatening, but Dylan could hear the crack in it. For the first time, he didn’t seem like the most dangerous thing in the room. The people in the hallway, the ones who expected her to be an adult counselor, were the real problem.
Bryce: Call out to who? I don’t even know those people. I know what a counselor is supposed to be, but that’s not me. I’m just Dylan. I’m not going anywhere without you, because I have no clue how I even got into this uniform.
Sael stared at her for a long time. His violet eyes searched her face as if he expected her to start lying or pull a weapon of her own. He looked as if he was waiting for a trap to spring. He didn’t seem to find whatever he was looking for.
The footsteps outside were right there now. Slower. Purposeful. Whoever was out there had stopped moving.
Bryce: They’re right outside the door. If we don’t move now, we’re going to be caught.
The way she said it seemed to click for him. They weren’t fighting each other anymore; they were on the same side of the door. Sael held her gaze for a second, then he finally stepped back. The air felt cold where his armor had been pressing against her back. He still held the knife, but he wasn’t pointing it at her.
Sael: If you betray me, I will know.
Bryce: I’m sixteen. I can’t even lie to my moms about where I’ve been after curfew without them knowing. I’m not going to start lying to a guy with a really sharp knife. Just get us to that ship.
Something shifted in his face. He didn’t smile, but the scary, stiff set of his jaw softened just a tiny bit. The boots stopped right outside the main door. Total silence. On the wall panel next to that door, the small status light flickered from a steady amber to a pulsing red, signaling that the proximity sensor had been triggered from the outside.
Sael didn’t move toward the main door. Instead, he moved toward the dark computer table. He started poking at the glowing symbols on the glass. The interface was familiar, the bright colors of LCARS her mom used, but Dylan’s brain refused to bridge the gap between recognizing it and using it.
She could recognize a file directory, but when Sael pulled up tactical overlays and environmental schematics, it was a blur of data she had no business understanding. She could see him finding a secondary access hatch near the back of the room. Fragments of something seemed to be coming back to Sael as he worked. He wasn’t looking for a fight; he was looking for a way around.
Bryce: Do you see a different way? Can you get that service door open?
Sael looked back at the big window and the ship waiting out there. He looked at the hallways on the screen, then back at her. He didn’t remember being here, but his hands moved as if they knew exactly what buttons to push to override the secondary lock.
Sael: Stay close to me. When we move, we move quickly. No hesitation. ::a beat:: And no screaming.
Bryce: I’ll try, okay? But this has been a really, REALLY bad day.
The console gave a final, sharp chirp. Dylan watched as Sael’s three-fingered hand moved across the glowing icons. Across the room, a narrow, rectangular service panel in the bulkhead groaned as its seals released. It didn’t slide with the smooth hiss of a primary door. It opened with a heavy, mechanical grind, like a maintenance access that hadn’t been cycled in years.
Sael: Response
Dylan did not wait for a second invitation. She scrambled toward the opening, her oversized boots feeling like lead weights. Behind them, the main door’s status light pulsed faster. A thin, rising whine from the panel by the door, where tools or an override were chewing at the lock, said the security team was seconds away from getting through.
Sael: Response
They slipped into the gap just as the main door at the far end of the room finally gave way. Dylan did not look back, but she heard the sudden, chaotic burst of voices and the familiar snap-hum of phasers being brought up to the ready.
The maintenance accessway was nothing like the clean, well-lit corridors she was used to on the public rings. It was cramped and smelled like hot metal and ionized air. Thick bundles of orange EPS trunking and data conduits lined the walls, vibrating with a low, bone-deep thrum that she could feel in her teeth. This was the kind of place her mom always complained about. She said the vibration from power relays in these shafts was the reason her hybrid lilies never bloomed properly. Standing in the middle of it, Dylan could see why. It felt like being inside a giant, humming heart.
Bryce: This is gross. My mom would have a fit if she saw me in here. She says the air in these tubes is like ninety percent recycled air and coolant fumes. Do you actually know where this leads, or are we just crawling into a dead end?
Sael: Response
A distant, muffled command echoed through the access panels above them. The security team had found the service hatch. They were not far behind. Dylan’s heart was hammering so hard against her chest that she was worried it would give away their position. She felt like a total criminal, wedged into the guts of a starbase while actual Starfleet officers hunted her down.
Bryce: They are going to find us. If they use a localized life-sign sweep, we are totally done for. Can your ship see us? Can it beam us out or something?
Sael: Response
They reached a vertical ladder that disappeared into a dark shaft, vanishing up into the base’s inner rings. Sael gestured for her to climb. Dylan looked up at the endless metal rungs and then at her own trembling hands. She had spent her whole life around this tech, but she had never felt so small.
Bryce: Just so you know, ladders and I have never been friends.
Sael: Response
...TBC/TAG...
Ensign Dylan Bryce
Counselor, Starbase 118 Ops
Writer: A238909RJ0
"Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."