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<blockquote data-quote="Brother Dave" data-source="post: 6414442" data-attributes="member: 80003"><p>Trace lay in his bunk, trying not to listen to the strange voices in the dark. Voices that weren't really voices...more like...ideas? Concepts given substance. <span style="color: #2f4f4f"><em>There's something there...some truth. What? What is it trying to tell me? Why am I afraid?</em></span> He stirred restlessly, his hand raking through his dark hair. <span style="color: #2f4f4f"><em>Enough! Go away! Leave me alone!</em></span> He railed silently, but the voices went on, and on, and on. Finally, he sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bunk, rubbing his temples with the heels of his hands. <span style="color: #2f4f4f"><em> This is nuts. This is....I don't know what this is.</em></span> <span style="color: #2f4f4f"><em>It's.... </em></span><span style="font-size: 10px"><span style="color: #008000"> "It's my imagination,"</span></span> he muttered quietly. <span style="font-size: 10px"><span style="color: #008000"> "It must be."</span></span> He stood and paced the small compartment. <span style="font-size: 15px"> <span style="color: #008000">"Overworked!"</span></span> he almost shouted, then calmed down. In a quieter voice, he murmured <span style="font-size: 10px"><span style="color: #008000">"I'm just overworked. That's all it is. The stress of the invasion..."</span></span> He paced some more, then flopped back down in his bunk. <span style="color: #2F4F4F"><em> I just need sleep. That's all. If only I can get to sleep.</em></span> Deliberately he closed his eyes, almost squeezing them shut, and fought the voices for oblivion.</p><p>...</p><p>Trace awoke with a gasp, fragments of dreams still racing through his mind. He remembered...green? A presence. Something. Desperately he grasped at the elusive threads, but they evaporated into wisps, eluding his understanding. <em><span style="color: #2f4f4f">I was so close...so close to understanding...something...</span></em> Groaning, he forced his eyes to open, rubbing the sleep out with shaking hands. <span style="color: #2F4F4F"><em>It was there. I know it was.</em></span> Suddenly his eyes shot open wide with realization. <span style="color: #2F4F4F"><em>They're...they're gone. The voices are gone! And...something else...it's quieter now.</em></span> He thought about that for a moment. <span style="color: #2F4F4F"><em>The hyperdrive?</em></span> He shook his head. <span style="color: #2F4F4F"><em>I don't know.</em></span> He stood up and paced, thinking aloud. <span style="color: #008000">"Doesn't matter. The hyperdrive, or something else, whatever, I'm not going to find out sitting here."</span> Decision made, he quickly freshened up and dressed, grabbing the ever-present first aid kit from the small table next to his bunk before opening the door. <span style="color: #2F4F4F"><em>I don't know what's happened. Maybe nothing. But I should make sure nobody in my section is hurt...</em></span></p><p>...</p><p>Trace hugged the young man – still a boy, really, at 19 – standing in his quarters, then slipped a couple of ration bars into the his hand, watching as the boy quickly pocketed the treasures. <span style="color: #008000">“I’m afraid that’s all I could get this time, son. Better than nothing, though.”</span> He stood back and stared into the boy’s brown eyes. <span style="color: #008000">“Sooner or later you’re going to have to turn yourself in. You can’t keep living in nooks and crannies and scrounging food. It’ll go worse for you if you get caught, you know.”</span> He smiled. <span style="color: #008000">“And what do you think they’re going to do – put you off at the next stop? Likely they’ll keep you in Iso for a couple of days, and then put you to work. You know I’ll put in a good word for you. Like it or not, you’re part of this expedition now.”</span> The boy simply shrugged, and Trace sighed. <span style="color: #008000">“You’re as stubborn as your Father, aren’t you? Carter, I’m worried about you. Just…be careful, okay? You’re the only family I have on this ship.”</span> Giving in to the inevitable, Trace motioned the boy back, then opened his door and stuck his head out into the corridor. <span style="color: #008000">“Okay, looks clear.”</span> The boy darted out into the corridor, quickly making his way to the nearest access panel. Trace watched after him until he was out of sight before slowly closing his door. He walked over to his bunk and sank down, putting his chin in his hand and staring at the wall. <em><span style="color: #2f4f4f">When did everything get so complicated?</span></em></p><p>...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Brother Dave, post: 6414442, member: 80003"] Trace lay in his bunk, trying not to listen to the strange voices in the dark. Voices that weren't really voices...more like...ideas? Concepts given substance. [COLOR=#2f4f4f][I]There's something there...some truth. What? What is it trying to tell me? Why am I afraid?[/I][/COLOR] He stirred restlessly, his hand raking through his dark hair. [COLOR=#2f4f4f][I]Enough! Go away! Leave me alone![/I][/COLOR] He railed silently, but the voices went on, and on, and on. Finally, he sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bunk, rubbing his temples with the heels of his hands. [COLOR=#2f4f4f][I] This is nuts. This is....I don't know what this is.[/I][/COLOR] [COLOR=#2f4f4f][I]It's.... [/I][/COLOR][SIZE=2][COLOR=#008000] "It's my imagination,"[/COLOR][/SIZE] he muttered quietly. [SIZE=2][COLOR=#008000] "It must be."[/COLOR][/SIZE] He stood and paced the small compartment. [SIZE=4] [COLOR=#008000]"Overworked!"[/COLOR][/SIZE] he almost shouted, then calmed down. In a quieter voice, he murmured [SIZE=2][COLOR=#008000]"I'm just overworked. That's all it is. The stress of the invasion..."[/COLOR][/SIZE] He paced some more, then flopped back down in his bunk. [COLOR=#2F4F4F][I] I just need sleep. That's all. If only I can get to sleep.[/I][/COLOR] Deliberately he closed his eyes, almost squeezing them shut, and fought the voices for oblivion. ... Trace awoke with a gasp, fragments of dreams still racing through his mind. He remembered...green? A presence. Something. Desperately he grasped at the elusive threads, but they evaporated into wisps, eluding his understanding. [I][COLOR=#2f4f4f]I was so close...so close to understanding...something...[/COLOR][/I] Groaning, he forced his eyes to open, rubbing the sleep out with shaking hands. [COLOR=#2F4F4F][I]It was there. I know it was.[/I][/COLOR] Suddenly his eyes shot open wide with realization. [COLOR=#2F4F4F][I]They're...they're gone. The voices are gone! And...something else...it's quieter now.[/I][/COLOR] He thought about that for a moment. [COLOR=#2F4F4F][I]The hyperdrive?[/I][/COLOR] He shook his head. [COLOR=#2F4F4F][I]I don't know.[/I][/COLOR] He stood up and paced, thinking aloud. [COLOR=#008000]"Doesn't matter. The hyperdrive, or something else, whatever, I'm not going to find out sitting here."[/COLOR] Decision made, he quickly freshened up and dressed, grabbing the ever-present first aid kit from the small table next to his bunk before opening the door. [COLOR=#2F4F4F][I]I don't know what's happened. Maybe nothing. But I should make sure nobody in my section is hurt...[/I][/COLOR] ... Trace hugged the young man – still a boy, really, at 19 – standing in his quarters, then slipped a couple of ration bars into the his hand, watching as the boy quickly pocketed the treasures. [COLOR=#008000]“I’m afraid that’s all I could get this time, son. Better than nothing, though.”[/COLOR] He stood back and stared into the boy’s brown eyes. [COLOR=#008000]“Sooner or later you’re going to have to turn yourself in. You can’t keep living in nooks and crannies and scrounging food. It’ll go worse for you if you get caught, you know.”[/COLOR] He smiled. [COLOR=#008000]“And what do you think they’re going to do – put you off at the next stop? Likely they’ll keep you in Iso for a couple of days, and then put you to work. You know I’ll put in a good word for you. Like it or not, you’re part of this expedition now.”[/COLOR] The boy simply shrugged, and Trace sighed. [COLOR=#008000]“You’re as stubborn as your Father, aren’t you? Carter, I’m worried about you. Just…be careful, okay? You’re the only family I have on this ship.”[/COLOR] Giving in to the inevitable, Trace motioned the boy back, then opened his door and stuck his head out into the corridor. [COLOR=#008000]“Okay, looks clear.”[/COLOR] The boy darted out into the corridor, quickly making his way to the nearest access panel. Trace watched after him until he was out of sight before slowly closing his door. He walked over to his bunk and sank down, putting his chin in his hand and staring at the wall. [I][COLOR=#2f4f4f]When did everything get so complicated?[/COLOR][/I] ... [/QUOTE]
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