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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 6414614" data-attributes="member: 4936"><p>Juno Reyes was lying on her back in her bunk. Her eyes were closed, moving fitfully under their lids.</p><p></p><p><em>Corporal Reyes was on her back at the junction of the corridors right outside the hydro bay. Her ears were full of radio chatter and the thin hissing roar of decompression and the much thicker roar of the monster in front of her. She groped for her gun for a second before realizing the gun, and the arm she was groping with, wasn’t there. In its place was a hollow place full of pain and dawning horror. Sealant gel bubbled around the edges of the hole in her HEV suit where her arm had been, but it was meant to seal punctures, not rips of that size. She was blacking out. Blood loss, or oxygen starvation? Juno wasn’t sure. The monster, some alien lizard-looking thing the size of a semi-trailer, glared down at her with glowing yellow eyes. It opened its mouth, and Juno could SEE the fire burning deep down its throat. She reached for her gun…she didn’t want to die by fire…that would be the worst way she could imagine. But her gun wasn’t there. Her gun wasn’t there.</em></p><p></p><p><em>vzht zht</em></p><p></p><p>Her eyes flew open and she sat up and looked quickly around, breathing hard; her heart slamming unmercifully in her chest. Her right arm whirred as she instinctively raised it to defend herself…and she sagged. Ah, <em>that </em>had been what she’d heard. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them, trying to spin down. The trauma counselor had suggested that she detach the arm when she slept if the sound of it woke her up…but when Juno had tried that it had been even worse. Lacking the arm, her throat closed up and panic crowded black around the edges of her vision. Not having it made her feel helpless all over again. It was worth a few startled wake-ups to avoid that. And at least it interrupted the nightmares.</p><p></p><p>Silver linings, and all.</p><p></p><p>As she cooled off with her head lying on her knees, Juno regarded her artificial hand and arm. The servos in it whirred quietly as she turned it this way and that, staring at it with a sort of disturbed fascination that hadn’t dwindled since it had been installed. It still felt…foreign to her, like something she was wearing over her real arm. It was sleek and smooth, gunmetal grey with just a bit of shininess. It had been designed to resemble her actual arm in size and shape and strength, to ease the assimilation process, but they couldn’t make it look real. Limitations of the 3-D printer tech they used to make it…the good facilities for that kind of thing were back on Earth. Going there was out of the question.</p><p></p><p>The war still raged there. A war so one-sided that desperately evacuating the planet had been the only hope for survival.</p><p></p><p>That was a bad thought. It led to thoughts of Earth, of leaving her home and her people in their hour of need, and the black pressed in again, and it was hard to breathe, and…<em>was that a voice?</em></p><p></p><p>In a heartbeat Juno was out of her bed and the gun she kept under her pillow was in her hand. It wasn’t loaded of course, she wasn’t allowed live ordnance off duty any more than anyone else was, but whoever was in here might not know that.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #B22222">“Lights,”</span> she growled, and the lamp in the ceiling of her cramped cabin came on. It had very little room for someone to hide though. Bed, small dresser with three drawers, and an even smaller desk/tabletop. The ‘furniture’ was part of the ship’s structure itself. Only the chair could be moved. It was literally impossible for someone to hide. She was tall enough to see over the dresser. She had clear sightlines.</p><p></p><p>Worse, the voices hadn’t stopped. Hallucinations stopped, didn’t they? When you looked at them, or listened to them…when you directed the full force of your attention to them, they melted away. But she still heard a whispery susurration of voices. They were too quiet to make out what they were saying, but it was definitely voices, not just engine hum or…</p><p></p><p>The <em>LACK </em>of engine hum. The ship had stopped. Or at least it wasn’t still in hyperspace.</p><p></p><p>Juno slapped the gun onto the top of her dresser and started pulling clothes on in a hurry. By the time she was pulling her boots on she realized the ‘voices’ had stopped. Hyperspace stuff, she thought. The drive was full of crazy, and the briefing had warned that there could be ‘unusual effects’ associated with turning it on or off. That had to be what it was.</p><p></p><p>The gun went back under her pillow before she left to report for duty. </p><p></p><p>It helped her get to sleep, knowing it was there.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 6414614, member: 4936"] Juno Reyes was lying on her back in her bunk. Her eyes were closed, moving fitfully under their lids. [I]Corporal Reyes was on her back at the junction of the corridors right outside the hydro bay. Her ears were full of radio chatter and the thin hissing roar of decompression and the much thicker roar of the monster in front of her. She groped for her gun for a second before realizing the gun, and the arm she was groping with, wasn’t there. In its place was a hollow place full of pain and dawning horror. Sealant gel bubbled around the edges of the hole in her HEV suit where her arm had been, but it was meant to seal punctures, not rips of that size. She was blacking out. Blood loss, or oxygen starvation? Juno wasn’t sure. The monster, some alien lizard-looking thing the size of a semi-trailer, glared down at her with glowing yellow eyes. It opened its mouth, and Juno could SEE the fire burning deep down its throat. She reached for her gun…she didn’t want to die by fire…that would be the worst way she could imagine. But her gun wasn’t there. Her gun wasn’t there.[/I] [I]vzht zht[/I] Her eyes flew open and she sat up and looked quickly around, breathing hard; her heart slamming unmercifully in her chest. Her right arm whirred as she instinctively raised it to defend herself…and she sagged. Ah, [I]that [/I]had been what she’d heard. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them, trying to spin down. The trauma counselor had suggested that she detach the arm when she slept if the sound of it woke her up…but when Juno had tried that it had been even worse. Lacking the arm, her throat closed up and panic crowded black around the edges of her vision. Not having it made her feel helpless all over again. It was worth a few startled wake-ups to avoid that. And at least it interrupted the nightmares. Silver linings, and all. As she cooled off with her head lying on her knees, Juno regarded her artificial hand and arm. The servos in it whirred quietly as she turned it this way and that, staring at it with a sort of disturbed fascination that hadn’t dwindled since it had been installed. It still felt…foreign to her, like something she was wearing over her real arm. It was sleek and smooth, gunmetal grey with just a bit of shininess. It had been designed to resemble her actual arm in size and shape and strength, to ease the assimilation process, but they couldn’t make it look real. Limitations of the 3-D printer tech they used to make it…the good facilities for that kind of thing were back on Earth. Going there was out of the question. The war still raged there. A war so one-sided that desperately evacuating the planet had been the only hope for survival. That was a bad thought. It led to thoughts of Earth, of leaving her home and her people in their hour of need, and the black pressed in again, and it was hard to breathe, and…[I]was that a voice?[/I] In a heartbeat Juno was out of her bed and the gun she kept under her pillow was in her hand. It wasn’t loaded of course, she wasn’t allowed live ordnance off duty any more than anyone else was, but whoever was in here might not know that. [COLOR="#B22222"]“Lights,”[/COLOR] she growled, and the lamp in the ceiling of her cramped cabin came on. It had very little room for someone to hide though. Bed, small dresser with three drawers, and an even smaller desk/tabletop. The ‘furniture’ was part of the ship’s structure itself. Only the chair could be moved. It was literally impossible for someone to hide. She was tall enough to see over the dresser. She had clear sightlines. Worse, the voices hadn’t stopped. Hallucinations stopped, didn’t they? When you looked at them, or listened to them…when you directed the full force of your attention to them, they melted away. But she still heard a whispery susurration of voices. They were too quiet to make out what they were saying, but it was definitely voices, not just engine hum or… The [i]LACK [/i]of engine hum. The ship had stopped. Or at least it wasn’t still in hyperspace. Juno slapped the gun onto the top of her dresser and started pulling clothes on in a hurry. By the time she was pulling her boots on she realized the ‘voices’ had stopped. Hyperspace stuff, she thought. The drive was full of crazy, and the briefing had warned that there could be ‘unusual effects’ associated with turning it on or off. That had to be what it was. The gun went back under her pillow before she left to report for duty. It helped her get to sleep, knowing it was there. [/QUOTE]
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