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Rangers Redux (fiction)
- Thread starter channe
- Start date
B5_Obsessed
Regular
Re: Brownie Points
Sector 83, "Shadow Dancing"
Z-Minus 7 Days. /forums/images/graemlins/cool.gif
Sector 83, "Shadow Dancing"
Z-Minus 7 Days. /forums/images/graemlins/cool.gif
Re: Brownie Points
*tosses B5_Obsessed a cookie*
Still flashback. Notice I erased the Malcolm-Sarah dialogue above. I had a better idea.
-- -- --
Dulann returned to the bridge through the Alafa's snakelike corridors, stepping over the dust and detritus of broken hull-material ripped from formerly-secure fastenings by the rocking concussion of Shadow-fire. Underscoring the howling sirens, he heard the tenative puff-wheeze of the life support system dangling over doomsday by a rapidly fraying thread. A woman wailed, accompanied by a shower of sparks; he passed someone's dead body, unmourned for now, while there was still the danger that the old, groaning Alafa still twisted about in the wreckage that was the Sector 85 battlefield.
The battle hadn't gone quickly. Alafa was the only survivor of her battle group, and only just; barely rescued from a firey death by the intervention of a helpful passing Narn cruiser, the ship rasped, panted, chafed, screamed for a merciful death. Her aft side was opened mid-battle like a can of sardines by a particularly inventive Shadow weapon, the crew on three decks opened to the chill acceptance of space. Engines were torn apart. Weapons, non-functional.
Dulann shook his head, wondering if David had it right.
He arrived on the bridge. The corner still smoked from a now-dead fire; sparking shards of what used to be a console decorated the floor nearby. Surnann was dead in a corner. The captain's chair had been obliterated by a falling beam, and the young, unexperienced captain - human and rattled - paced from nav to com to ops to nav to com to ops, pressing buttons to keep from biting his nails, muttering about inoperable intra-ship comms. He whirled to notice Dulann.
"...is it bad? How many dead? How many...?"
Dulann's head dipped to one side. "Eighteen dead, sir. Fifteen injured, with three critical."
The captain stopped in his tracks, slid his hands into his pocket, and didn't move. Blood crusted his temple. Dulann watched as he turned.
"We'll be going to Babylon 5," he said in a whisper. "When reinforcements arrive. Eighteen dead. God. Who? No. Don't tell me who. Don't."
He paused.
"Find me Harris, Dulann. We need to get some - some sort of mobility."
Dulann shook his head. "Harris is dead, sir."
"Musali?"
Dulann repeated the gesture.
"Martel, then. Martel can - "
"Out of commission. Critical."
On the ship's viewer, the charred husk of a Brakiri fighter came into view, its edges opened by concussion, the interior showing a mass that once could have been organic strapped to the chair.
"We won," said the Captain, brokenly. "If we keep on winning, there won't be any of us left..."
*tosses B5_Obsessed a cookie*
Still flashback. Notice I erased the Malcolm-Sarah dialogue above. I had a better idea.
-- -- --
Dulann returned to the bridge through the Alafa's snakelike corridors, stepping over the dust and detritus of broken hull-material ripped from formerly-secure fastenings by the rocking concussion of Shadow-fire. Underscoring the howling sirens, he heard the tenative puff-wheeze of the life support system dangling over doomsday by a rapidly fraying thread. A woman wailed, accompanied by a shower of sparks; he passed someone's dead body, unmourned for now, while there was still the danger that the old, groaning Alafa still twisted about in the wreckage that was the Sector 85 battlefield.
The battle hadn't gone quickly. Alafa was the only survivor of her battle group, and only just; barely rescued from a firey death by the intervention of a helpful passing Narn cruiser, the ship rasped, panted, chafed, screamed for a merciful death. Her aft side was opened mid-battle like a can of sardines by a particularly inventive Shadow weapon, the crew on three decks opened to the chill acceptance of space. Engines were torn apart. Weapons, non-functional.
Dulann shook his head, wondering if David had it right.
He arrived on the bridge. The corner still smoked from a now-dead fire; sparking shards of what used to be a console decorated the floor nearby. Surnann was dead in a corner. The captain's chair had been obliterated by a falling beam, and the young, unexperienced captain - human and rattled - paced from nav to com to ops to nav to com to ops, pressing buttons to keep from biting his nails, muttering about inoperable intra-ship comms. He whirled to notice Dulann.
"...is it bad? How many dead? How many...?"
Dulann's head dipped to one side. "Eighteen dead, sir. Fifteen injured, with three critical."
The captain stopped in his tracks, slid his hands into his pocket, and didn't move. Blood crusted his temple. Dulann watched as he turned.
"We'll be going to Babylon 5," he said in a whisper. "When reinforcements arrive. Eighteen dead. God. Who? No. Don't tell me who. Don't."
He paused.
"Find me Harris, Dulann. We need to get some - some sort of mobility."
Dulann shook his head. "Harris is dead, sir."
"Musali?"
Dulann repeated the gesture.
"Martel, then. Martel can - "
"Out of commission. Critical."
On the ship's viewer, the charred husk of a Brakiri fighter came into view, its edges opened by concussion, the interior showing a mass that once could have been organic strapped to the chair.
"We won," said the Captain, brokenly. "If we keep on winning, there won't be any of us left..."
Re: Brownie Points
The captain - name of Reed, wiry, pale - rocked from foot to foot, from left to right, a number of times before he withdrew his hands from his pockets and to his face. He rubbed his eyes. "Right. No mobility, then." Desperate, tracing facial lines he never knew he had with one dirty, blood-covered finger, Reed cast around the bridge for a mental handhold. "I don't know what to do - I don't know what - no mobility, no weapons, guts exposed, we're just dead here, waiting - "
A sick feeling washed over Dulann.
Reed paused, shook his head, moaned softly. "Keep it together," he muttered to himself, voice cracking. He crossed the room, stopped in front of the Minbari.
"Surnann's dead," he said, indicating a sad, crumpled body in the corner. "Martel's in triage. Means you're exec. Can you do this?"
Dulann blinked. For a moment, a dark shadow crossed his mind - a terrible scream - but it was only a moment, he reminded himself, only a moment - one that would come again, but it was gone now, and he was here, on the bridge.
"Yes, sir," he said, steadily.
Reed's eyes, bloodshot, darted around the bridge, smoky and pungent and gleaming in a thousand shades of flame. "I have to know - Dulann - you were just blocking Shadow ships with your brain, for God's sake, are you mentally competent, are you stable, you're a telepath, we all know how they can be - "
"Yes," said Dulann. He extended his hand towards the captain. "Sir, will you come with me to the infirmary?"
Reed laughed hollowly and stepped back over a girder, heading towards the central console. "Good, good," he said. "I - I'll be needing you, I think..." He leaned over, hit a button, opened a compartment, and retrieved a PPG.
"We're all going to be dead, soon," he whispered, his voice shaking. "We're all gonna be dying for the goddamn One, Dulann, and we will be food for crows, and they will pick our bones, clean and white and bleached and exposed and they will suck the marrow and bring us to darkness, and the One..."
Dulann, who barely heard him over the whine of the sirens, extended his hand. A combination of fright and sickness nearly bowled him over as he felt the room constrict, felt everything grow darker, felt despair, saw the bridge through Reed...
Reed held the gun, pointing it at the ground, backing up to stand above the navigator's dead body. "No, no," he whispered, staring at Dulann. "I'm not going to let them do it for me, hell, I'm gonna control when I die and it ain't gonna be for the One."
Reed raised the PPG, moving it in circles dangerously near his ear. "I don't have it," he said, his voice low, crumbling. "I don't have it, but maybe - maybe you do," he said.
"Reed, listen to me," Dulann called. "Don't - "
"Don't be a hero, telepath," Reed warned, poking the dead body with a bootheel as he waved the gun in Dulann's direction. "Don't get closer. I know you've seen this before, but I know how it can still be so disconcerting..."
Three seconds later, he saluted, brought the gun up, and pulled the trigger. The PPG blast exploded from the barrel, slammed into the hard area of skull just above the ear, burned through layers of brain and settled itself in the medulla oblongata, killing him instantly. He fell to the floor with a muffled thud, the gun skittering across the cold metal.
The captain - name of Reed, wiry, pale - rocked from foot to foot, from left to right, a number of times before he withdrew his hands from his pockets and to his face. He rubbed his eyes. "Right. No mobility, then." Desperate, tracing facial lines he never knew he had with one dirty, blood-covered finger, Reed cast around the bridge for a mental handhold. "I don't know what to do - I don't know what - no mobility, no weapons, guts exposed, we're just dead here, waiting - "
A sick feeling washed over Dulann.
Reed paused, shook his head, moaned softly. "Keep it together," he muttered to himself, voice cracking. He crossed the room, stopped in front of the Minbari.
"Surnann's dead," he said, indicating a sad, crumpled body in the corner. "Martel's in triage. Means you're exec. Can you do this?"
Dulann blinked. For a moment, a dark shadow crossed his mind - a terrible scream - but it was only a moment, he reminded himself, only a moment - one that would come again, but it was gone now, and he was here, on the bridge.
"Yes, sir," he said, steadily.
Reed's eyes, bloodshot, darted around the bridge, smoky and pungent and gleaming in a thousand shades of flame. "I have to know - Dulann - you were just blocking Shadow ships with your brain, for God's sake, are you mentally competent, are you stable, you're a telepath, we all know how they can be - "
"Yes," said Dulann. He extended his hand towards the captain. "Sir, will you come with me to the infirmary?"
Reed laughed hollowly and stepped back over a girder, heading towards the central console. "Good, good," he said. "I - I'll be needing you, I think..." He leaned over, hit a button, opened a compartment, and retrieved a PPG.
"We're all going to be dead, soon," he whispered, his voice shaking. "We're all gonna be dying for the goddamn One, Dulann, and we will be food for crows, and they will pick our bones, clean and white and bleached and exposed and they will suck the marrow and bring us to darkness, and the One..."
Dulann, who barely heard him over the whine of the sirens, extended his hand. A combination of fright and sickness nearly bowled him over as he felt the room constrict, felt everything grow darker, felt despair, saw the bridge through Reed...
Reed held the gun, pointing it at the ground, backing up to stand above the navigator's dead body. "No, no," he whispered, staring at Dulann. "I'm not going to let them do it for me, hell, I'm gonna control when I die and it ain't gonna be for the One."
Reed raised the PPG, moving it in circles dangerously near his ear. "I don't have it," he said, his voice low, crumbling. "I don't have it, but maybe - maybe you do," he said.
"Reed, listen to me," Dulann called. "Don't - "
"Don't be a hero, telepath," Reed warned, poking the dead body with a bootheel as he waved the gun in Dulann's direction. "Don't get closer. I know you've seen this before, but I know how it can still be so disconcerting..."
Three seconds later, he saluted, brought the gun up, and pulled the trigger. The PPG blast exploded from the barrel, slammed into the hard area of skull just above the ear, burned through layers of brain and settled itself in the medulla oblongata, killing him instantly. He fell to the floor with a muffled thud, the gun skittering across the cold metal.
B5_Obsessed
Regular
Re: Hints?
Was Captain Reed Malcolm's older brother?
What didn't he have that Dulann might?
What had Dulann seen before? Death or suicide?
Was Captain Reed Malcolm's older brother?
What didn't he have that Dulann might?
What had Dulann seen before? Death or suicide?
B5_Obsessed
Regular
Re: Hints?
Dammit. I was really worried that was going to happen.
It's Malcolm Bridges, ain't it?
And Malcolm Reed is the actor's name from Enterprise.
I had this same problem back when the two shows were in production, and I've not seen either one in at least six months.
Scratch one "hint". /forums/images/graemlins/blush.gif
Dammit. I was really worried that was going to happen.
It's Malcolm Bridges, ain't it?
And Malcolm Reed is the actor's name from Enterprise.
I had this same problem back when the two shows were in production, and I've not seen either one in at least six months.
Scratch one "hint". /forums/images/graemlins/blush.gif
Re: Hints?
It's Malcolm Bridges. /forums/images/graemlins/smile.gif Reed is no relation.
I hate to give a hint to the hint, so I won't - not quite yet. I'm enjoying the speculation, though. This flashback is going to be very important.
There's one question you should be asking yourself that has to do with Captain Reed, though. But it's not the hint I was referring to earlier.
It's Malcolm Bridges. /forums/images/graemlins/smile.gif Reed is no relation.
I hate to give a hint to the hint, so I won't - not quite yet. I'm enjoying the speculation, though. This flashback is going to be very important.
There's one question you should be asking yourself that has to do with Captain Reed, though. But it's not the hint I was referring to earlier.
Re: Hints?
It was as if every sound on the bridge had been dampened, as if the shrill PPG blast had cut the klaxons and the blasts and the cries. A luminous shadow pulled at the fringes of his soul for just a moment - death, screaming, a snapshot of something black, blacker than black, a deep nothing beyond, an echo of Reed's last words - and then he was returned to the room, almost horizontal, on his knees.
He pulled himself up, unable to take his eyes off of Reed's body. The proximity sensor roared, followed by the soft beep-click-whine of the malfunctioning exterior comm. Dulann's hand found the proper buttons, automatically entering the correct sequence.
"This is Alafa," he croaked hoarsely, closing his eyes as the room spun, using his torso as the axis.
"Captain Reed," the woman murmured through the static. "This is Cantrell on the Enfalli. We're right above you. Prepare your people for evac. Do you have wounded?"
Dulann watched with morbid fascination as the edges of the fatal wound on the side of Reed's head caved in a bit, melted, curved.
"Captain Reed is dead. This is Dulann - with Systems - we have unmovable wounded, Enfalli. We'll open bay doors."
Moment. Pause.
Click. Whirr. Chime. The woman spoke again.
"Negative, Alafa. Your bay's exposed to vacuum. Won't do. You'll have to get them in the escape pods."
Footsteps behind Dulann heralded a new arrival. Dulann turned and cast a look over his shoulder to regard a fellow systems engineer, Malcolm, who had obviously expected to report to Captain Reed. The human's mouth flopped open like a beached fish, and he glanced at Dulann.
"Dulann -"
The Minbari put up a hand. "We have immovables," he said, addressing the air. "Our medical pods were destroyed. They'll die."
"Hell," the woman's voice crackled. "Do your best. We're bad off over here but we can handle a few more wounded. We're launching fighters - now. We'll be waiting. Enfalli out."
The line went dead, to yield to Malcolm's inevitable explosion. Dulann turned back to him. The human Ranger reached back, retrieved a Minbari weapon of his own, and aimed it at Dulann's chest.
"Hands up and move away from there," he said.
It was as if every sound on the bridge had been dampened, as if the shrill PPG blast had cut the klaxons and the blasts and the cries. A luminous shadow pulled at the fringes of his soul for just a moment - death, screaming, a snapshot of something black, blacker than black, a deep nothing beyond, an echo of Reed's last words - and then he was returned to the room, almost horizontal, on his knees.
He pulled himself up, unable to take his eyes off of Reed's body. The proximity sensor roared, followed by the soft beep-click-whine of the malfunctioning exterior comm. Dulann's hand found the proper buttons, automatically entering the correct sequence.
"This is Alafa," he croaked hoarsely, closing his eyes as the room spun, using his torso as the axis.
"Captain Reed," the woman murmured through the static. "This is Cantrell on the Enfalli. We're right above you. Prepare your people for evac. Do you have wounded?"
Dulann watched with morbid fascination as the edges of the fatal wound on the side of Reed's head caved in a bit, melted, curved.
"Captain Reed is dead. This is Dulann - with Systems - we have unmovable wounded, Enfalli. We'll open bay doors."
Moment. Pause.
Click. Whirr. Chime. The woman spoke again.
"Negative, Alafa. Your bay's exposed to vacuum. Won't do. You'll have to get them in the escape pods."
Footsteps behind Dulann heralded a new arrival. Dulann turned and cast a look over his shoulder to regard a fellow systems engineer, Malcolm, who had obviously expected to report to Captain Reed. The human's mouth flopped open like a beached fish, and he glanced at Dulann.
"Dulann -"
The Minbari put up a hand. "We have immovables," he said, addressing the air. "Our medical pods were destroyed. They'll die."
"Hell," the woman's voice crackled. "Do your best. We're bad off over here but we can handle a few more wounded. We're launching fighters - now. We'll be waiting. Enfalli out."
The line went dead, to yield to Malcolm's inevitable explosion. Dulann turned back to him. The human Ranger reached back, retrieved a Minbari weapon of his own, and aimed it at Dulann's chest.
"Hands up and move away from there," he said.
