From: Steven Peterson (petsted_at_hotmail.com)
Date: Wed May 30 2007 - 21:00:22 PDT
"Decent"Continued from Kenneth's "Slouching Toward Bethlehem" ==[/\]==Location: GATEWAY STATIONScene: SickbayStardate: 2.70531.2401Time Index: Before Jerome's "The End Times""...and I can find nothing physically wrong with you Lieutenant, you are clear to continue with your regular duties." Dr. Gorman completed his sentence in the same tone that he had spoke through the entire evaluation. Or at least that was how it had seemed to anyone in the sickbay who had been listening from a distance. For the patient, one Lieutenant Nick Cannon, it sounded as if the good doctor were one faint voice in the distance. The cacophony of voices that poured through his head at any given time was making it increasingly difficult to focus on the present, or at least what he thought was the seemingly current moment of time was. Cannon focused his attention again, noting that Gorman seemed to be staring at him waiting for something. A moment later the reality hit Nick, he was waiting for a response. "Okay Jeff, got it. I'm sure Cap'n Mike's got us flying more patrols, best get back down to the fighter." As the chief star jockey jumped up and walked out the door, the CMO had to wonder if maybe he shouldn't recommend that Cannon have a nice long talk with Gene McInnis. ==[/\]== Scene: Nick's Quarters Waves of sound boomed through Nick's quarters as a multitude of different sounds played simultaneously. He was doing everything he could to block the plethora of voices that flooded his head. It wasn't that he disliked the voices or the feeling that he continued to experience in the after-effects of his encounter with the new Bajoran orb, it was more that he did not want the entire station to consider him to be crazy. Unfortunately this was increasingly becoming the case as he had at several moments in the past day announced to some stranger, out of the blue, that they could not understand and that they had no way of knowing just what was coming. The other problem was, that when he recovered and was asked what couldn't be understood or what was coming, he had no idea himself. Nick was slowly reconciling himself to the idea that he very well might be a bit crazy, but that he was going to do everything he could to keep that to himself. Since the encounter with the orb, Cannon had felt a completeness that he had never had before, and as though he were living on a plain that he couldn't find the true words to describe. What he was finding increasingly difficult was to continue his heightened sensing while still trying to maintain his separate activity on the plain with all those who hadn't had such an experience. The Lieutenant splashed face on his water, trying to pull himself into what used to be 'normalcy.' As he looked in the mirror, Nick couldn't help but notice the changes that seemed to have occurred. His hair was well beyond even the slightly beyond 'regulation' length that he normally kept it at. The thick stubble on his face was evidence that his face had not seen a razor for several days. He had ditched the flight suit he usually wore once back in his quarters, and just now noticed how his build seemed to be more defined, as if his muscles were getting work without any actual work being done. Nick shook his head, he was seeing things that weren't really there again. Cannon grabbed a regulation uniform, wanting to get up to Ops to see how he could help, and barring that get down to his squadron and get back to it.==[/\]== Scene: Main Promenade Time Inded: Continued from Jerome's "The End Times" "Don't touch me!" he heard himself howl. He looked around at the sudden crowd who were watching him. A hundred eyes staring, dozens of fingers pointing, all lit up by a soft blue shine, the same one that emanated from the Orb. The voices inside his head screamed at him. A flash of a thousand images, of things that he had never seen but instantly knew blew before his eyes, and yet he never left the promenade. The images were horrifying, at least that's what he knew he should think. As he staggered with his head in his hands, Nick couldn't help but pity those around him. Judgment was coming. "None of you know what's happening!" he yelled. "None of you know what's coming!" It was coming for them, and yet, despite the horror that he verbally shared, he felt an odd sense of peace on the inside. Cannon knew that nothing could touch him, not even this, for he was something more than he had ever been before.The crowd moved away from the screaming lunatic, and Nick realized that he was standing beside a viewport. In the darkness of space the wormhole hung open like a cellestial whirlpool ready to take in all within its reach. His feeling of invincibility could not stop him from feeling the pit of fear that his mortal soul felt at the images, voices, and thoughts that now filled his head. "It's all going to end!" he shouted uselessly at the crowd, arms waving to encompass the whole group. "All of this! It's all going to end!" He collapsed, his physical body unable to stand the pressure any longer. Senseless, he didn't hear the crowd break into an excited chatter while security guards arrived on the scene. But in his brain, or wherever the dark thoughts came from, the battle continued to rage. The station's flying ace felt as though nothing, not the great dark shadow and the pools of blood that he saw, not the raging forces or the soulless beings behind them, and nothing that he encountered felt as though it were a real threat to *him,* but they were a threat to everything and everyone he cared about, and that was why he continued to cry out. ==[/\]== Scene: Security Center The lieutenant awoke within one of the many holding facilities in the station. The forcefield was clearly on, and he was clearly being held for some reason, one which he did not know. His head throbbed, the voices continued to cry out inside his head, warning him and calling him. There were many voices, but they were clearly two very different types. One called out to him in warning, as if there was something he could do. The others offered him great rewards, telling him that he must accept the inevitable and join them. Nick sweated, and then felt chills, and on and on again. He only felt a shadow of what was really happening to his body, as his attention was increasingly focused on the world that now existed within his head. The pilot rubbed the sweat off his head, stood up, and banged on the wall. He drew the attention of the station's chief security officer, Hannibal O'Patterson, who grunted and went back to his work. Cannon focused himself and made a fist, banging on the wall again. This time he got more than a grunt. "Your awake," the large hybrid stated factually. "Let me out. I haven't done anything." He felt the words come from his mouth, but they were only a faint sound to his ears. Hannibal heard them as a deep baritone statement of fact. "Can't let you out Nick, captain's orders. Your to stay here until we know that your not a danger to others or to yourself. We cannot have you causing panic like that on the promenade again." The mysterious hybrid grinned slightly, a rare emotion for him. Cannon wanted to respond verbally, but instead felt himself walking straight into the forcefield. The charge was clearly mild and intended only to hold him in, but somehow he moved through it. Pure physical pain flashed through every nerve ending in his already physically weakened body. Hannibal pulled his phaser up and said something that Nick didn't hear through the voices, but Cannon just kept moving. And he didn't just move, he ran. O'Patterson growled, he wasn't one to let those he was holding in detention go. However, his orders had been explicit, he was to hold Cannon but could not restrain him against his will as he had done nothing explicitly wrong. Granted, the mild forcefield had been a bit beyond those orders, but it seemed best. Now that the pilot had actually endured the pain of walking through the field, there was very little he could do other than inform the captain that the fighter leader had departed. As he informed Kane, Hannibal couldn't help but wonder just what might have happened if he had used a real forcefield. ==[/\]== Scene: Counselor's Office Time Index: Continued from Kenneth's "Slouching Toward Bethlehem" He was not sure how he had even gotten here, but somehow Nick had ended up in the counselor's office. "I need to talk," he stated softly through the two dueling choruses in his head. The counselor said something and dropped his Bajoran earring to the desk. Cannon's eyes locked upon it, upon the falling piece of jewelry and the symbolism that it represented. "I've been...I've been seeing things," he stated quietly, his eyes still locked upon the earring. McInnis gestured towards a chair, which Nick unconciously took. His nearly depleted body fell into the chair, taking what little comfort it could get as the counselor talked into the air. The voices in Nick's head spoke to him more loudly, and more closely in unison. They spoke in a language that he could not understand and with a tone of great urgency. Across from Nick, Gene asked "can I get you anything?" But Cannon didn't hear anything. He simply listened to the foreign dialect that continued in his head. However, his eyes focused on the Bajoran hybrid before him. He saw the man as though he were watching from the cockpit of his fighter craft. "Where are you Nick?" he asked. For the first time in days, Nick Cannon realized that voices were suddenly gone. He answered the question. "Fffllyyyyinnnng." And that's where he was, flying his fighter. And there it was, the awesome luminescence from the wormhole all over again. "Light," he stated blankly. While he flew the fighter into the light, Gene McInnis seemed to float within it. "What did the orb show you Nick?" asked the figure of McInnis as he floated in space. He quickly morphed into the orb, and the orb into him and back again. Nick's eyes opened wide at the morphing image and as the brilliant light began a sudden transformation. The mouth of the wormhole no longer delivered its warming, peace-giving light. Instead, it delivered a red substance that was all too familiar to Nick by now. The voices returned in a new multitude and without their previous alternating dualism. The feeling of near invincibility was still there, but he could feel it slipping. But without question, he knew what was coming. "Blood," he muttered. "What do you mean, 'blood' can mean a lot of things." Gene tried to draw more out of the pilot. "Bajoran blood, human blood, much blood." "Why? Do you know why?" Gene asked, not so much as a counselor but as an investigator, or as a first contact specialist, or simply as a concerned father and husband. "Judgment is upon you and your people," stated Nick as a new bank of images flashed before his eyes or within his head. ==[/\]== NRPG: Sorry for the recent absence, will try and keep them few and far between. I just wanted to draw some pieces together and hopefully add a bit to the great posts that I've borrowed from to draw things together. Kenneth: Feel free to continue wherever you want with it. Great post. Jerome: Thanks for the posts, this is a very intriguing storyline. Hopefully this fits the bill. Rahul: I suspect Nick may be back, or not, feel free to use as you like. Chance: Sorry, had to do it, hopefully I didn't botch HO'P too much. Steven Peterson ...writing for... Lieutenant Nick Cannon Fighter Squadron Commander Gateway Station, GS-2 _________________________________________________________________ Add some color. Personalize your inbox with your favorite colors. www.windowslive-hotmail.com/learnmore/personalize.html?locale=en-us&ocid=TXT_TAGLM_HMWL_reten_addcolor_0507 From HyperNews_at_youth.net
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.5 : Sun Feb 17 2008 - 03:10:16 PST