Alone in the Light, Part 4
Title: Alone in the Light, Part 4
Author:
j_green_teeth
Universe/Series: reboot
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 349 of ~41,000
Warnings: Minor/OC Character Death, discussion of Suicide (highlight to view complete warnings)
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/Spock, implied Scotty/Uhura, OC/OC, ensemble, Many OCs
Ensign Baloo muttered to himself as he maneuvered the dolly off the freight lift. Quartermaster Motto had sent him down to the storage decks to pull three bolts of acoustic fabric from one of the storage bays. Apparently it was going to be used as the backdrop for a concert later this week. Of course the red, blue and yellow fabric they had above decks didn’t fit the performers artistic sensibilities. Oh no, he had to go pull the green stuff from storage.
He didn’t mind really. He was looking forward to hearing Ensign Cho play. She was painfully shy and he wondered who had convinced her to preform; maybe Randy, the suave git. Muttering gave him something to listen to. Without something to say the white noise of the ship’s systems made him feel deaf. He had the irrational fear when he emerged into the inhabited decks he would still hear just a thrumming buzz. He could imagine Ensign Banes’ mouth moving, no sound coming out. He snorted. Nothing of value would be lost there. That man had more hot air in him than a blimp.
He stopped in front of hold 3C-04-028, the dolly bumping his legs as it came to a stop. He was checking the PADD one last time when he heard it, a muffled thump. He looked around, ears and eyes straining for anything unusual. He was almost convinced he imagined it but then...were those footsteps? He padded down the hallway. There was an intersection ahead; from there he should be able to figure out where the sound was coming from.
“Hello?” he called. He turned as he saw a shadow flicker in the corner of his eye, then whirled back as he felt the air move behind him, his momentum driving his head even harder into the pipe that someone was swinging at him. He crumpled down onto his back, vision swimming as his hands clawed ineffectively at the air. He could barely focus as the pipe came at him again. Just enough to register the face behind it. “But you’re...”
Next: Part 5
Author:
j_green_teeth
Universe/Series: reboot
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 349 of ~41,000
Warnings: Minor/OC Character Death, discussion of Suicide (highlight to view complete warnings)
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/Spock, implied Scotty/Uhura, OC/OC, ensemble, Many OCs
Ensign Baloo muttered to himself as he maneuvered the dolly off the freight lift. Quartermaster Motto had sent him down to the storage decks to pull three bolts of acoustic fabric from one of the storage bays. Apparently it was going to be used as the backdrop for a concert later this week. Of course the red, blue and yellow fabric they had above decks didn’t fit the performers artistic sensibilities. Oh no, he had to go pull the green stuff from storage.
He didn’t mind really. He was looking forward to hearing Ensign Cho play. She was painfully shy and he wondered who had convinced her to preform; maybe Randy, the suave git. Muttering gave him something to listen to. Without something to say the white noise of the ship’s systems made him feel deaf. He had the irrational fear when he emerged into the inhabited decks he would still hear just a thrumming buzz. He could imagine Ensign Banes’ mouth moving, no sound coming out. He snorted. Nothing of value would be lost there. That man had more hot air in him than a blimp.
He stopped in front of hold 3C-04-028, the dolly bumping his legs as it came to a stop. He was checking the PADD one last time when he heard it, a muffled thump. He looked around, ears and eyes straining for anything unusual. He was almost convinced he imagined it but then...were those footsteps? He padded down the hallway. There was an intersection ahead; from there he should be able to figure out where the sound was coming from.
“Hello?” he called. He turned as he saw a shadow flicker in the corner of his eye, then whirled back as he felt the air move behind him, his momentum driving his head even harder into the pipe that someone was swinging at him. He crumpled down onto his back, vision swimming as his hands clawed ineffectively at the air. He could barely focus as the pipe came at him again. Just enough to register the face behind it. “But you’re...”
Next: Part 5