Bad Dreams, Ensign?
Who: Wesley Crusher
What: Uneasy nights were to be expected...within reason. This, very much, is not.
When: Last Week,
Where: His house by the hospital
Status: Closed / complete
Timespace had ripped out under his feet like sand in an undertow. But Wesley had always prided himself on landing his feet. True, he was stranded somewhere...or rather when Earth still used money, but that had been the hardest thing to get used to yet. There had been the obligatory few days of mind-bending confusion as he scrabbled to figure out where he was and how he got there, but what he figured was this:
The Traveler had warned him about places where time and space did not work as they should, these places were dangerous the same way being trapped in the ox-bend of a river was--hit an ox bend when it was close to breaking, you had a chance to get back to the river proper...hit one when it was still forming and....
This.
At least, he thought so. It made sense. The problem with not having a super-advanced spaceship around him and computers to calculate things like temporal distortion was that everything had to be based on empirical observation. Regardless, he couldn't see any other reason why he'd been sailing through spacetime one minute and in Canada in the early, early twenty-first century the next. Even if there was one, he didn't have the equipment to find it.
So, seeing little choice, Wesley had migrated to the one place he felt safe--as close to the hospital as possible--even if it was primitive compared to what he was used to. They still used needles for God's sake.
After his third day or so, he thought he'd done enough quiet observation of his surroundings and tomorrow, perhaps, would start to really interact with the people who lived here. Yawning, he dimmed the computer screen and yawned ans stretched his way to the bedroom. His uniform could take another day before he absolutely needed to wash it, so he merely stripped off the top and fell into bed, exhausted. Sleep had no trouble claiming him.
.....And when he opened his eyes, he was on the Enterprise, the emergency power was on, and red bars dimmed on and off along the corridor. He was alone, and the engines sounded wrong.
"Computer." He said, walking over to a wall panel and touching the screen. "What is the status of Engineering?"
"Unknown at this time," the computer replied.
He tapped his communicator. "Ensign Crusher to Lieutenant LaForge, do you copy?"
Silence.
Taking a deep breath, Wes started to jog towards Engineering before having second thoughts and making his was to the Bridge. If something had gone wrong with the warp drive, Geordi would be there with the captain and the rest of the bridge crew.....
What: Uneasy nights were to be expected...within reason. This, very much, is not.
When: Last Week,
Where: His house by the hospital
Status: Closed / complete
Timespace had ripped out under his feet like sand in an undertow. But Wesley had always prided himself on landing his feet. True, he was stranded somewhere...or rather when Earth still used money, but that had been the hardest thing to get used to yet. There had been the obligatory few days of mind-bending confusion as he scrabbled to figure out where he was and how he got there, but what he figured was this:
The Traveler had warned him about places where time and space did not work as they should, these places were dangerous the same way being trapped in the ox-bend of a river was--hit an ox bend when it was close to breaking, you had a chance to get back to the river proper...hit one when it was still forming and....
This.
At least, he thought so. It made sense. The problem with not having a super-advanced spaceship around him and computers to calculate things like temporal distortion was that everything had to be based on empirical observation. Regardless, he couldn't see any other reason why he'd been sailing through spacetime one minute and in Canada in the early, early twenty-first century the next. Even if there was one, he didn't have the equipment to find it.
So, seeing little choice, Wesley had migrated to the one place he felt safe--as close to the hospital as possible--even if it was primitive compared to what he was used to. They still used needles for God's sake.
After his third day or so, he thought he'd done enough quiet observation of his surroundings and tomorrow, perhaps, would start to really interact with the people who lived here. Yawning, he dimmed the computer screen and yawned ans stretched his way to the bedroom. His uniform could take another day before he absolutely needed to wash it, so he merely stripped off the top and fell into bed, exhausted. Sleep had no trouble claiming him.
.....And when he opened his eyes, he was on the Enterprise, the emergency power was on, and red bars dimmed on and off along the corridor. He was alone, and the engines sounded wrong.
"Computer." He said, walking over to a wall panel and touching the screen. "What is the status of Engineering?"
"Unknown at this time," the computer replied.
He tapped his communicator. "Ensign Crusher to Lieutenant LaForge, do you copy?"
Silence.
Taking a deep breath, Wes started to jog towards Engineering before having second thoughts and making his was to the Bridge. If something had gone wrong with the warp drive, Geordi would be there with the captain and the rest of the bridge crew.....