Dreaming in Stereo III

 Episode Name:  Dreaming in Stereo III

   Written By:  Grey and Nabrun

         Cast:  Fitzpatrick, Grey, Harris and Krylow.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Grey

     Aired On:  Thu Feb 03 03:08:53 2005

     Stardate:  54727.1

Time: Wed Feb 02 14:59:03 2005

Stardate: 54725.9

Shifting slightly in his bed, Harris releases a soft sigh -- a sound steeped in contentment. He finds peace at night, from time to time -- and this is one of those nights, lost in a dream...

..."Goober," he laughs at Meg as he watches her pat sand onto a sand castle, shaking his head wryly. "You're making it all wrong. Just goes to show that I married a gun monkey, not an engineering guru. What are you making there, a phaser turret or a tower with a parapet?" The waves sweep back and forth on the beach, and the sun shines down brightly. It's peaceful. Quiet.

The peace remians for a moment while he watches Meg and her castle building, before things suddenly change. One moment he's laying on the on beach watching her and the next he's laying on cold hard deck plating watching her slam onto the deck before him. His head rings and red lights flash all around him. Strangely everything is silent. Meg groans in pain and rolls onto her back.

Harris attempts to roll to his feet, instantly alert. "Meg!" They will not take her from him again. They will not.

He's on his feet in a moment, though his head is still ringing. Meg though remains laying there, blood running from a head wound from her fall. She groans softly, calling out, "Rob... Rob, where are you?"

"Shh, babe, I'm right here," Harris murmurs as he attempts to kneel at her side, looking around for anything to use as a bandage to stop the flow of blood -- clothes, fabric, a medkit with actual bandages -- whatever it takes. "It's alright. I'm here."

His feet move on the deck plate, trying to proper him to her. Every step he takes leaves her just as far away as before, out of reach. She doesn't seem to hear him, calling out again, "Rob, I need you. Please, I need your help."

"I'm coming," Rob calls, frowning at his feet as they don't seem to work right. "I'm right here. Just hold still, everything will be alright in just a second." His efforts to move pick up speed.

. o O Harris thinks, "It'll be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

No matter what he does, she remains a few feet out of reach. She tries to move again, sitting up slowly. She looks around, at him, past him, not seeing him. "Rob? Help me, please," she asks weakly, before starting in surprise. She's looking off to the side, at something over his shoulder.

Harris pauses, attempting to follow her gaze by turning his head. "Stay still, anamchara. You took a nasty knock there."

. o O Harris thinks, "YOU WILL TAKE ME TO MY WIFE, FEET!"

Walking slowly towards Meg is a man dressed all in black, with dark hair. His features are distorted and fuzzy and he's carrying some sort of knife. "I need your help," he says to Meg even as he walks to her. Meg pushes slowly to her feet, wobbling a little. "Rob, I need your help." calls out Meg again.

Harris tries to put himself between the new figure and Meg. "Just who the hell are you?" he demands.

There is no answer coming from the man. Its almost like Rob's on the outside looking in. They don't notice him and he can't get to them. "I need your help," the man says to Meg as he approaches her. For her part, Meg scowls and launches her at him. "Rob, you're supposed to be here for me!"

Harris tries to move, to interpose himself between Meg and the stranger. This is his one purpose, and he bends all his will on it. "I'm -here-!" he shouts.

No matter how hard he tries, he can't stop what's happening. Meg flies to the man and he draws that blade back. A second later its buried to the hilt in her chest. She screams out in pain, falling to her knees. The man sighs softly and says, "I just need your help. Please." As he says that he fades away and suddenly Rob's feet work again as he surges towards the dying Meg.

Harris attempts to drop next to her, tears shining in his eyes. "Hold on, babe. Hold on." He works on tugging his shirt off, hoping to staunch the flow of blood.

He reaches her as she fails into his arms shuddering in pain. One hand grabs his arm as she looks to him. "Rob, why didn't you help me?" he asks, voice slowly trailing off into death. Her fingers uncurl as the life drains from her body.

The deam blinks and everything changes. Meg is gone. The red alert klaxons are gone. Harris can still feel the pain of loss, but the last scene is gone. He's sitting in a chair at the conn of the Thomas Paine. The red alert klaxons are replaced by the yellow alert lights. Ghorev's voice snaps out from behind him, "Commander Harris, get us underway. Lieutenant Hurley's shuttle can't hold out for long.

Harris runs his fingers over the helm, nodding once. "Aye, sir. Docking clamps released, aft thrusters engaged."

On the viewscreen the Paine slowly moves away from the station under his control. In the background an officer calls out, "The Romulans are almost ready engage the Amazon sir." Again he hears Ghorev's voice. "Commander, lay in a course to Bearing 132 mark 7. Full Warp. Engage immediately." Then Harris feels it, the sense of need pulling at the back of his mind. He can't place it, but its the for something or to do something.

"Aye, sir. Coming around -- stablized on course. Maximum warp, aye." Harris punches the engage button, pouring on the proverbial gas. When that's all said and done, he lifts his gaze to the viewscreen and frowns.

. o O Harris pushes away the disorientation from the abrupt scene change, concentrating on the now.

And frown he should. Every movement he makes to lay in the course is sluggish and slow, like he's pushing through mud. His fingers don't dance across the console, but rather stumble slowly. Finally the course is laid in and the Paine jumps ot warp. Behind him he hears the officer calling out, "Sir, the Romulans are engaging the Amazon. She's returning fire but she's outmatched."

Harris drops his gaze back to his fingers, frowning once again. "C'mon, baby, c'mon. Faster," he whispers to the Paine.

. o O Harris thinks, "What the hell? I'm not this slow... ever."

There is something strange in dream land. Without warning Hurley's face appears on the viewscreen, looking scared and worried. He collar has full Lietenant's pips and she's still in operations gold. Even more strangely she looks right to Harris. "Grandfather, hurry please. I know you can fly faster. I need you. I need your help."

"We're coming, kiddo," Harris replies as he works the console again, trying to squeeze more speed out of the Paine. "Just hold on."

His hands are slow again, trying to find their way. So much slower than his thoughts. The feeling of need is getting more powerful, pulsing through his mind as the Paine finds a little more speed after a long moment. Hurley and the shuttle behind her rock suddenly and she screams. "Grandfather. I know you can help me. Why aren't you helping me?"

Harris looks back to the screen, frustration on his features. "We're coming," he repeats, powerless to do anything more. "Prep your escape pod, kiddo. Stay calm, listen to the sound of my voice."

Hurley's shuttle rocks again, but this time she doesn't scream or look terrified. In fact she almost looks mad as she stares at Harris. "Stop listening to yourself. Stop listening to your mind. I need you. Help me," she says, before suddenly the image cuts off. Its replaced by the Amazon on the viewscreen, helpless as a Romulan ship sweeps in and launches a torpedo volley at the runabout. The torpedoes arc in slowly, ever so slowly towards the shuttle.

"Entering attack pattern Alpha-5," Harris snarls as Hurley winks out on the viewscreen. "Trying to intercept those torpedoes -- I think I can get them to hit us instead of her." His fingers move again over the console.

. o O Harris thinks, "Work, damnit! WORK!"

If only his fingers would move a little faster, just a little faster. The Paine shifts, sluggishly following his commands as it twists to intercept. For a moment it seems he might have been fast rnough and that the Amazon will clear them. Then they arc pass the Paine and all four slam into the runabout, turning it into a fireball in a second.

Harris slams a fist on the console as he fails again. The words come, wooden sounding from his mouth: "Orders, sir?"

. o O Harris submerges himself in duty. There will be time for grief later; now's the time to fight.

Everything is quiet for a moment as the fireball that was the Amazon burns on the screen. Not just quiet, but deathly silent.

Again the dream shifts, the Thomas Paine disappearing. Harris is in a hallway on the station somewhere. Again the red alert klaxons are sounding and flashing. Meg and Christine are before him. Meg's leg is obviously broken and Christine is terrified.

Harris blinks at the shift before pushing himself into motion again. He reaches for his communicator to call the infirmary as he moves toward the two.

. o O Harris pushes away the disorientation again. Action. It's time for action.

Meg is whimpering softly in pain, one hand clutching her leg. Hurley should be trying to help her, but instead she's staring down the hall behind Harris. There is no answer to his hail, just silence. Meg looks to him and says, "I need you. Help me." A second later Hurley adds, "Grandfather, help me. I need your help," she says, even as she points down the hallway.

Harris looks back over his shoulder as he drops next to Meg. "Shh," he whispers. "I'm here, and it's going to be alright."

When he looks over his shoulder he again sees the man from his first dream, wearing the same clothes with the same featureless face. He's striding down the hallway towards them, the same blade as before clutched in his hand. "I need your help," he says to Harris.

Harris pushes to his feet, moving to intercept the man. "You're not going to hurt my family," he vows darkly.

. o O Harris thinks, "I will see you dead first."

The man continues towards Harris, pace unchanged. He doesn't raise the blade, but they're still quite a ways apart. Again he says, "I need your help." The sense of need from the previous dream is back, suddenly throbbing in your head.

"You stop right where you are, and I'll help you," Harris fires back, his hands balling into fists as he continues to move. "You touch my family, you're done."

Still the pace remains unchanged, the man coming towards Harris, Meg and Christine. He scarls out, "Stop it. Help me. I need your help." That sense of need is painful now, desperate.

Harris squares his shoulders. "Stop -right- there and drop the knife, and we'll talk."

. o O Harris thinks, "Like hell. I watched you stick a knife into Meg's chest, and for that, you're going to pay."

The man doesn't stop coming. He doesn't drop the knife. He even raises it. "You want to hurt me. All I want is help, but no one will give it to me. Help me," he says, drawing within a few feet of Harris and still coming.

"Wrong answer," Harris replies flatly before he fires a left hook for the faceless one's... face. Or, at least, where it should be.

Harris's fist contents, but the man doesn't even flinch and keeps coming. He draws the blade back and now slams it home into Harris's chest. "Why won't you help me?" he snarls, before pulling the blade out and letting Harris fall back.

Harris narrows his eyes at the shock of pain. "Why... should I?" he gasps as he falls backward, the world already going dim...

...and sits up in his bed, fighting for breath. He instinctively reaches for the other side of the bed to reassure himself that Meg's alright, sleeping where she should be -- and crumples as his hand hits empty air, followed by a flat blanket. A deep sigh escapes him, and he takes to rubbing his hand over his face. "Sorry, babe," he whispers before the tears start to flow. "I'm so sorry."

Time: Wed Feb 02 17:01:55 2005

Stardate: 54726.1

It's afternoon, and the day's been just a little bit grueling. PT was a bear this morning and work was steady, challenging. Alek's exhausted, but it's a good kind of exhausted, the feeling one gets after a job well done. Quarters are dimly lit and cozy, comfortable, perfect for catnapping before dinner. The dream begins easily enough and it's about work, what else? The team is planetside, a planet that looks like any other. Hostiles have been reported in the area, but everyone is in their groove and hitting their marks. They're working together like a well-oiled team. Wendy's taking readings, Tak's doing some scouting and clearing the path, Foster and Tay are flanking Tak, scouting as well, making sure the way is clear. Tak's voice is quiet, a hint of satisfaction in it, as he calls for Alek. "Primitive mine up here, Krylow. This baby's all yours."

Krylow blinks for a moment as the dream slides into place. After a pause he lowers his phaser rifle and then slings it over his back. Before approaching the mine he withdraws his tricorder and his demolitions kit and once ready moves beside Takamura. Once settled in he begins his first scans, checking the status, the trigger, the payload and everything else. Like often when he's working he's quiet, focused on the task at hand.

That focus and care for duty and detail pays off. This mine? Child's play. You could do it in your sleep. Check, recheck. Yes, it's disabled. Your tricorder tells you so. Tak grins and starts off with the others, moving ahead. You take another look at the mine and there's something niggling at the back of your mind.

In the field there's a golden rule. When something feels wrong it probably is. Alek frowns for a second as he looks down towards the mine and then raises a hand to stop Takamura and everyone else. "Hold on," he mumbles, looking to the tricorder.

They're smiling as they continue on, Caleb even turns and grins, giving the thumb's up sign. They haven't heard you. You look up again, the three of them fanning out. All at once you hear three tell-tale sounds, right together. *Snick* You shouldn't have heard it, but you do. You know that sound. The mines, they're never isolated, always in groups. Primative pressure-plates. Pressure. You can feel it building in your head. Pressure. Growing stronger. Need. It's almost a physical sensation now, you can almost touch the need.

Krylow snarls in frustrations he watches the other three. There's nothing he can do. That sound, that noise, is the beginning of the end. Still he pushes to his feet, trying to move forward. Instinctively trying to stop the impossible.

And you get to go forward, almost as if time and space dilate to allow it. You're close enough to be blown back by the force of the blast, Tak's body a dead weight, literally, on top of you. His body took the force of the blast, which, in turn, saved your life. The need is there, still, gnawing at your insides, spawning other emotions. Need. You have to do something. You hurt, but you're not injured. The only blood is Tak's.

Krylow lays still for a moment, stunned and shocked from the explosive. Finally he moves to push the body on him away, trying to sit up and look around. Eyes go searching for teammates, looking for other injuries.

. o O Krylow is stunned. His emotions are a sudden turmoil as his mind catches up to the events, as he realizes Takamura's dead from the mines.

Caleb's lying a few feet away, head bent at an awkward angle, eyes wide and staring. He didn't even have time to realize what hit him. That's when you hear the noise, the quiet whimper. Tay...she's over there to the left.

Krylow looks defeated as his eyes fall first on Takamura and then on Foster. He takes a breath and looks to where Tay lays. He pulls free from Takamura, pushing to his feet unsteadily to approach his fallen teammate. As he moves beside her he drops to his knees, reaching out.

. o O Krylow thinks, "What did I go? I can't have missed that. I can't have. I can't have."

And she reaches back, fingers gripping, desperately, at your arm. "Help me," she pleads softly. "Please, Alek..." Her voice is quiet, choked, and she coughs. There are no outward signs of injury. Nothing's at an awkward angle. But there's a tiny trickle of blood trailing along the corner of her mouth. "It hurts. I can't think. Help me, Alek, please..."

Krylow leans over her, still in outward shock. A hand brushes the blood from the edge of her mouth. "I'm sorry Tay. This shouldn't have happened. I don't know what's wrong. Doc will know," he says, glancing up to look for the rest of team.

When you look back, it's a scene out of a nightmare. There are these things, they look like nothing you've ever seen before, covered with grey scales. They're huge, angry looking beasts, but they're only a blip on your mental radar. Wendy. Still alive, angry as can be. She's trapped. One vice-like alien arm is around her middle, the other around her throat. Doc, the same thing. And Barana, hanging there in Timefleet black. She's pinned, by her throat, to a tree, held there by an alien hand. Her eyes are wild, filled with fear, hands clawing at the one holding her in place as she desperately tries to breathe. "Help me," whispers Tay. "Alek, please...I need your help. Help me think. Fix my head so I can think..."

As shock after shock assualt him Alek is disoriented again. This time he ignores Tay, reaching for the phaser rifle slung over his back. His hands shakes as he rasies it, whether in shock or anger or fear. There's no doubt which one he aims for first, his shot trying to free Barana.

. o O Krylow thinks, "Barana, no! I won't let you die. I can't let you die."

. o O Krylow can't control his emotions, but the shock dies down at seeing Barana, replaced by fear and anger.

There's no phaser rifle. It's gone completely limp in his grip, utterly useless. Tay continues to claw at Alek, more and more desperate. "Alek! Please...I need you..." The need grows even more, to the point you can taste it in your throat. The desperation and anger, the sheer force of the need is like waves slowly breaking over your head. Barana stops struggling and Tay's grip is too hard to break, it's like claws in your arm. Barana's voice in your head, weak and distant. "I'm sorry, Imzadi...The baby..." Her eyes go wide, and then she slumps. Still Tay holds onto you. Still Wendy and Doc struggle. "You can save them," Tay says, though the voice isn't her own. "Help me and you can save them."

Krylow tries the phaser again in desperation as Barana stop struggling and then lets it falls to the ground in front of his kness. He gasps in shock as her voice echos in his head, a hand reaching up to his temple. "Barana! No, Barana." The hand is held by Tay and he pulls vicously against it, trying to break free.

. o O Krylow thinks, "BARANA! No. No. No. You can't die. You have to live. I've got to save you. NO!"

Pain. There's a sensation of physical pain. "Look at me, Alek," Tay hisses. "LOOK AT ME!" The hand digs in as the small mental light that was Barana winks out in your mind. Gone. Emptiness. Need. It's ripping at you now. "Look at me, Alek," comes the voice again. But it's not Tay's, and it's not that other, darker voice. This one...you know this one. You haven't heard it in years.

Krylow pulls at his arm again trying to pulls free and get to the others, to Barana. As he feels the mental connection die he screams, a voiceless painful scream, before his head and body slump. When he hears the voice, he doesn't even acknowledge it as tears run down his face. His body is limp now and anyone could pull or twist him.

. o O Krylow thinks, "Barana...Imzadi...Barana, you can't be dead. you can't be. Not now..not my Imzadi. You can't be dead."

A hand reaches up and turns your face toward Tay's body. The touch is light and gentle, tender. The fingers on your cheek are your mother's, and it's your mother's eyes looking up at you from the ground. A small trickle of blood streams from the corner of her mouth. "Help me, Alek," she whispers softly. "Help me...I need you." You don't need to turn around to know what's happening to Wendy and Doc. Their screams are enough, the sounds of bones being slowly, forcibly broken. You blink and Tay's eyes and face change again, and they're Barana's. "Help me..." she whispers softly. "Imzadi."

The last word trails off, echoing through your mind, bouncing around your skull. There's a physical pain in your arm and the need is overwhelming, choking. The pain is easily explained: There's a little black kitten, Trouble, kneading your arm. Pinpricks. But the need, the need stays with you, hanging around your neck. If you listen, you can almost hear the voice, the voice that's Tay's, that's Barana's, that's your Mother's, that nameless, faceless voice whispering, desperate - "Help me."

In the dream Alek watches for a moment as Tay's face changes to his mother's and then to Barana's before he pulls back, way from her. Outside of the dream he body jerks, pulling away from the kitten even as he wakes. His voice starts as a wordless scream before slowly turning into a "NOOOOOOOOO!" He's still confused as he wakes suddenly, legs kicking at the blankets and trying to push them away as he stumbles to his feet. The T-shirt he's wearing is covered in cold sweet and his body is shaking as he tries to slow his breathing. Finally he sinks back onto the bed, body going limp and soft.

. o O Krylow thinks, "Just a dream. It was only a nightmare. They're alive. It was just a dream. She's still alive."