((Habitat - Alora’s Quarters, Starbase Ops))
It had been a good day. While Alora knew she wouldn’t get her plants for some time, she’d managed to unpack what little she did have, meet a friendly face, explore some of the station with a promise of a more complete tour, check out the holodeck, practise her piano, and get some Aikido practise in. It had also been a long day. The trip to the base had left her unable to sleep, and the adrenaline had kept her awake even after her arrival. Despite her fatigue, she’d been far too hyped up to do anything but explore. By the time that was done, her energy level hadn’t dissipated. Once she returned to her room, however, it was as if her body realised that it had gone over 24 hours without sleep, and it had been overworked. She immediately kicked off her shoes and sat on the couch - but her eyes didn’t remain open. She awoke in pain. Her body trembled, her hands shook. For a moment, Alora stammered, though there was no one to hear her, and her brain tried to sift through the fog to form some sort of coherent thought. The attempt to rise to her feet resulted in a tumble to the floor, and for a moment, she convulsed there before she managed to gain some traction.
One hand pressed against the coffee table, and it gave its support as she managed to, barely, get to her feet. Each step cut knives into her, but her goal remained in sight. One foot. Then another. Then another. Pain rocked her body. It slit through her skin and sliced every organ. Stars formed before her eyes, but she moved. One foot. Then another. Then another. Pain attacked her mercilessly. It pounded at her head, her stomach, her limbs. It tore every muscle, every piece of her, relentless in its destructive intention. Pain stabbed at her without regard, without mercy. It cared little of her innocence, of her desire, of her need. It only sought its own ambition, heedless of the misery it caused.
In the middle of the floor, she had to stop, and Alora found herself back on the ground, and she groaned deeply as the knives sliced their way through her body. Gasping for air, she had to pause, allow herself to deal with the pain, to face it head on, unwilling to give in, unwilling to let it have its way, unwilling to allow it victory. Eventually, she began to move, crawling like a baby seeking her mother. Once through the door to her bedroom, Alora aimed for the little table that squatted beside her bed. Clumsily, she fumbled for the button that would open it, and after three attempts, managed to push it. Sighing, the draw slid open. Using the edge of the table, Alora pulled herself to a sitting position and leaned against the bed itself, panting. The knives began to recede, but she knew they were poised to return any moment. That sharp pain reduced to a deep, guttural ache, and she attempted to calm her trembling hands as she reached for the hypospray. Clumsily, she worked the little contraption, then dropped it as her body convulsed again, the pain returning. Another cry escaped her lips, not just of pain, but of frustration, of an unwillingness to subject herself to the torture, to let the pain get the better of her. Her hands sought the hypospray, and found the cylindrical device. Straining, every muscle in her body tensed in agony, she forced her arm up, forced her body to respond, forced her hand to trigger the injection.
Within seconds, the knives retreated, thwarted the pain, screaming in rage one last time before it, too, fled, and Alora panted, grateful for the respite. Licking her lips, she managed to find her voice, croaking quietly.
DeVeau: Computer, why did my alarm not go off?
Computer: The alarm set for 22:00 hours went off as scheduled. There was no response.
And since there was no response, there would be a time limit for that alarm, which would shut off once it finally reached. Alora realised she’d slept through it. A dangerous thing.
DeVeau: Computer. Amend alarm. Go off at 22:00 hours, and continue indefinitely with increasing volume until a response is received.
Computer: ::chirping:: Alarm amended.
It had been the first time she’d ever slept through her alarm. Never did she want to do that again. How much had it affected her? Alora would have to check, but not right away. No, the fatigue was too great, even worse than when she had arrived back into her quarters. Before she could even consider the possibility of clawing her way onto the bed, her eyes were closed, and she slumped over, her body satisfied with the floor.
-- Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239008AD0