Snippet #1955964

Green. There were fields of it rustling peacefully in the wind for miles as far as the eye could see. The only thing that dared to intrude on the gently swaying sea in the distance was an old fashion wooden windmill painted a cheerful cherry red that had long ago begun to chip away and wash out from lack of proper care and exposure to the elements. To some, it might have been a dull and terribly depressing sight, but to Alanys Mayor, it was her happiest childhood memory. A smaller version of herself, maybe six, lay there in the grass sea with half lidded eyes and a lazy smile that revealed a dimple in her left cheek. She wished she could stay here forever, in this moment filled with balmy breezes and gentle kisses from the sun, but an older more jaded part of her knew this part of the dream never lasted, was never long enough to outweigh the horror that was to come. Still green, but no longer the beautiful flowing grass, now it was unnatural green fluorescent lights and dark metal walls, the sounds of gentle breezes and Yola birds replaced by the screams and pained moans of countless faceless individuals. She couldn’t move, in horror she realized she was back on the table, tied down and naked with nothing but two thin straps to cover her. There were tubes in her arms and sensors attached to her head that connected to a machine that would beep shrilly every time she screamed or begged for the pain to stop.

“Fascinating.” A raspy voice intoned after it felt like she’d screamed herself hoarse. Her world was suddenly filled with a face she’d rather not remember. “I think you’re my favorite, but then with your talents there really is no telling for sure.” His face was deceptively kind, but Alanys knew better. She knew he was a monster even if he didn’t always look like one. Even when he smiled at her, it never reached his spectacle covered hazel green eyes.


Then she was in a field again, but here it was short and well kept, and there were thick metal walls a hundred yards in every direction. She knew where she was, but a part of her hoped against hope that it was different this time, that she’d be spared what she knew was coming. It proved a naïve notion. Blood, there was so much blood. She could hear yelling around her, and the sounds of clashing metal, but she couldn’t make herself move. She was on her knees in the middle of the field, a wickedly curved knife in her hand. She knew in the back of her mind she should move, she was going to die if she just sat there, and she had to get to that stupid flag so their team could leave, so they could live, but it was all she could do to not vomit at the smell. Everywhere around her she smelt blood and death, and fear with a potent mix of desperation. This wasn’t a game, it was a frenzy. She wished desperately to stop herself, but like always in the dream, she was compelled to look up. She was suddenly covered in blood, her hands most of all, but it wasn’t her own. The last thing she saw was a pair of blue gray eyes looking down adoringly at her, before glazing over in death. And then she cried.

Alanys was crumpled on the floor of the tank when she regained consciousness, the gel completely drained, and glass door opened. She felt drained and unsteady as she rose to her hands and knees panting to try and calm herself down. She had to remember where she was, this wasn’t Cicero V, she hadn’t been there in nearly ten years. She was safe on a ship, Mal’s ship. That last thought brought her more comfort than she’d care to admit, to herself or otherwise, but it did the trick. She yanked the wires from her wrist and neck with a shaky hand and shuddered. Dr. Elliot hadn’t had her for a private probing session in over a decade, but she still hated being touched by wires, even when she knew they were only there to monitor her vitals, not pump her with drugs or electro currents to supposedly help map her brain waves. Some things a person simply doesn’t get over, and as much as the weakness annoyed her, she couldn’t bring herself to be comfortable with the damned things.

Standing weakly, still feeling shaky, she trudged over to her locker, pulling out a ridiculously fluffy pink bathrobe, wrapping herself in the familiar comforting warmth. What she was really looking for though, was at the bottom of her locker, and she dug around the admittedly messy space until she found the orange plastic vial. She twisted the cap off, swiftly extracting a pill and swallowing it dry. She needed the fix, she always did after the Gap. She felt the effects within minutes, the Xinso humming through her veins and calming her quickly. Her hands stopped shaking and Alanys finally felt more like herself. She pushed the pain, and the fear, and the guilt and locked it in a box before shoving it deep down, far away where she wouldn’t have to look at it. The psychiatrist she’d been forced to see before leaving the rescue ship had warned her that suppression wasn’t a healthy way of dealing with her issues, but then she didn’t much care what a doctor thought one way or another. They made her antsy more often than not, and she avoided them like the plague. Besides, a healthy dose of denial mixed with some optimism and regularly structured drug abuse beat out the hell she’d gone through that first sober year off planet any day of the weak. When in doubt, suppress, suppress, suppress!

She was feeling down right chipper when she looked back down into the bottle and noticed she was down to her last three pills. She pursed her lips lightly as she screwed the cap back on and put the vial away. She’d need to restock soon, but she’d have to wait until after they’d made this run. Xinso was expensive to say the least, and she wasn’t likely to find a dealer in the Rud’bul system anyway. She’d just have to stretch them out a little bit. Mal said this would be a quick job anyway, so she wasn’t overly worried. She got dressed quickly after taking a quick shower, pausing only to tie her hair back in a damp ponytail before completing her morning routine. She was dressed in her usual light tan form fitting cargo pants and black top, hip holsters cradling her two .45 semi-automatics, and fingerless gloves in place when she heard the first message from Mal.

She rolled her eyes slightly at that. She’d checked it for lag before they’d entered the Gap, always insisted on it in fact. It was basic military training to make sure all defenses were on high against any threat when in a vulnerable state, and Alanys was nothing if not well trained. But regardless, she wouldn’t say anything. She knew Mal well enough to know what he was like after the Gap, and she knew he had a harder time with it than she did. She wondered not for the first time, if there was something she could do to help him, but she knew doing anything would only make him feel worse. Mal hated feeling weak, so the best thing she could do for him was pretend she didn’t notice. She headed to the bridge after Mal’s second announcement, ready to hear their orders and get under way.