Fog of Confusion

Posted on Wed Jan 15th, 2025 @ 5:41pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Ensign Emilynn Dove

1,525 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: Firebird - Deck 5

Fog of Confusion

[ON]

[18:06 Firebird - Deck 5]

It had been an exceptionally hectic day aboard the USS Firebird marked by relentless routine maintenance tasks that seemed to stretch from one end of the ship to the other. Ensign Emilynn Dove felt as if she had traversed the entire vessel at least ten times, her feet carrying her through the narrow corridors, down the bustling maintenance bays, and into the dimly lit engineering sections. Fatigue seeped into her bones after several nights of restless sleep, and today especially felt like an uphill battle. It was safe to say she was utterly drained; every muscle in her back protested with a dull ache with each step she took.

As she reached the door to her cabin, it slid open with a soft hiss. Inside, she found one of her cabin mates deeply engrossed in a holographic display. She couldn’t tell what he was watching, nor did she care to engage at that moment. With a simple nod of acknowledgment, she passed by him, too exhausted to form words.

Her gaze fell to the bed that dominated one side of the compact room. Without a second thought, she flopped down onto it, laying stomach-first with her uniform and shoes still on. Her inner voice nagged at her, urging her to at least take a moment to shower and grab a quick bite to eat before succumbing to sleep, especially considering she had missed lunch. Yet, a groan escaped her lips as she stretched her arms above her head, fully intending to get up however her hand brushed against the soft, cool fabric of her pillow, and within seconds, she was pulling it toward her, burying her head into its welcoming embrace. Just for a minute she reassured herself as her eyes fluttered closed.

Time slipped away; when Emi’s eyes finally opened, they felt heavy and gritty. She rubbed at them gently, confusion flooding her senses. The room was now shrouded in darkness. Hadn’t she just laid down? A faint glow caught her attention—the clock by the bed read 05:55. Astonished, she sat up, realization washing over her like a bucket of cold water. Had she really slept through the night in her clothes and without a blanket?

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she was momentarily startled by a wave of dizziness that washed over her. I need to eat something she thought, her throat dry and raw, making it uncomfortable to swallow. She stumbled towards the replicator tucked in the corner of the room.

“Computer, water – cold,” she commanded. When no response came, a frown deepened on her brow. She tapped furiously at the console, her fingers dancing over the controls with growing impatience. “Computer, water – cold,” she reiterated, adjusting her tone in hopes of eliciting a reaction, but once more, nothing appeared.

Feeling a mix of uncertainty and irritation, she opted not to disturb her cabin mates and instead make her way to the mess hall, a place where she could find a reprieve from the malfunctioning technology.

As she prepared to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror mounted on the wall. The soft light of the room cast gentle shadows, highlighting the weariness etched on her face. Her uniform, though not in pristine condition – a few wrinkles here and there – still met acceptable standards for duty. However, her hair was a different story. It resembled an untamed nest, the strands escaping the confines of her braid in all directions.

With an irritated sigh, she reached for the band that held her hair in place and released the frizzy braid. Pushing the rebellious locks back, she twisted them tightly into a bun, her fingers working quickly and expertly to secure it. This was her least favorite hairstyle, but she had no energy to deal with the chaos atop her head.

She cast a final, critical glance at her reflection, disgust mingling with resignation. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from the mirror and made her way to the door.

As she approached the threshold of her door, she had expected it to open, but it didn’t, and she nearly ran into it. She reached for the control panel, but to her astonishment, the door failed to open. What is happening on this ship? she thought to herself. She pressed the manual button, and after several tries, the door finally gave in to her demands and opened. A bright beam of light spilled in from the corridor, momentarily blinding her. Shielding her eyes, she took a few tentative steps forward, allowing them time to adjust to the blinding glare.

However, as her senses adapted, an unsettling vibration rippled beneath her feet, accompanied by an unexpected sound from behind her that made her heart leap. She turned to investigate, only to see the door to her quarters closing—yet it sounded nothing like it usually did. This time, it was much louder, the echo reverberating in her ears like a distant warning.

The door appeared completely different; it had transformed into a dark, imposing metallic slab, one she couldn’t recognize. Its surface was thick and embellished with small, diamond-shaped grooves that radiated a soft blue luminescence. Their shape was strangely familiar to her. Curious, she reached out for it, her fingertips grazing the intricate design. To her shock, the metal felt icy cold, sending a sharp pain through her fingers, forcing her to recoil with a gasp.

Suddenly, a chill enveloped the air around her, prompting her to clutch her arms tightly for warmth. Strong gusts of wind whipped across her face leaving her skin feeling tight and chapped. The air became thick, and she found it difficult to breathe. She noticed her feet felt strangely numb as she shifted her weight. She looked down, her heart sank—she was no longer on the ship, but instead found herself standing in the midst of a thick, foreboding bog. The ground beneath her seemed to shift and squelch, gripping her feet like a vice. Fog curled around her, dense and swirling, obscuring her vision as twisted, skeletal trees loomed in the distance, their bare branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. A sense of dread washed over her, and she felt her balance falter as her feet sank deeper into the muddy earth, prompting a burgeoning panic.

Just as despair threatened to consume her, a distant chirping sound broke through the wind. Looking up, she spotted a faint blue light glimmering through the fog. It hovered there, ethereal and inviting. The moment she focused on it, a wave of calm swept over her body, chasing away the fear. The light danced gently, teasing her as it flickered in and out of view before dissolving back into the mist. The light beckoned for her, but she was unable to move. Then she heard it again—the chirp resonated, leading her thoughts away from panic and back toward hope.


[18:18 Firebird - Deck Five]

=^= Hubblestone to Dove =^=

Emilynn jolted awake, her heart raced as her Combadge's shrill chirp cut through her sleep. She sat up abruptly, disoriented, struggling to grasp the surreal dream that lingered like cobwebs.

=^= Dove here, =^= she managed to respond slowly, her voice hoarse and laced with confusion.

Out of the corner of her eye, a flicker of blue light drew her attention. Turning her head slightly, she caught sight of the clock resting on her bedside table. The radiant blue glow felt oddly familiar, stirring a sense of déjà vu within her. It read 18:18, the numbers glowing. How could it be? Only a little more than ten minutes had passed since she had entered her quarters. It felt as though an eternity had slipped away from her, leaving behind unsettling feelings.

=^= Were you finished running the diagnostics in astrometrics? I need to use that station to complete some work for Lieutenant Solomon, =^= came the voice on the other end, breaking through her thoughts.

=^= Uh. Yes, I finished. Sorry, I forgot to notify you, =^= she replied, still struggling to shake off the remnants of her bizarre dream.

=^= You okay? =^= The concern in his voice was unmistakable.

=^= Yes, I'm fine. Thank you. Have a good shift, =^= she reassured him but also brought his inquires to an abrupt end.

=^= Alright, thanks, =^= he responded ending communication.

Alone in the dimly lit room, Emilynn perched on the edge of her bed. She gazed intently at the clock, its persistent glow saturating the darkness with a steady, almost rhythmic pulse that seemed to synchronize with the quickening beat of her heart.

Her stomach churned, and she was unsure if it was hunger or unease from the dream she had just had. It refused to dissipate, lingering like a shadow, and she couldn't shake the instinct that something significant had taken place in those fleeting moments of sleep. It had felt so real, much more than just an unsettling dream.

[OFF]


Ensign Emilynn Dove
Operations Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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