    
KariUnder water where thoughts can breathe Easily
| | Posted on Monday, October 28, 2002 - 01:40 am: | |
This sucks.
Rapid Decompression n.- The act or process of uncompressing in a rapid manner.
Vacuum pulling at every pore. Eyes shut and mouth tightly closed against the pressure. Wait -- no; Starfleet Training: from somewhere a distant voice. Hold your breath and die.
A gasp and oxygen leaves; with it hope.
One second passes. Fourteen more of consciousness. Another 119 of life.
Wasn't there a ship here? No point worrying now.
Two, three, four. Everything is so quiet; but not...not cold. No, there is a sun here. If asphyxiation doesn't kill the radiation will.
Mouth is on fire with the flames of Hades. Saliva is quick to boil.
And then: Salvation. In the form of a tingling sensation. A numbness that starts at the feet and moves, imperceptibly quickly, to the rest of the body. The suffusion of a transporter beam taking control of destiny.
The disorientation and brief sickness; and an atmosphere. Air. Glorious, Exultant, Ardent, air. But, yet, not entirely fresh: the air of a starship.
A starship indeed. A flash of mettle and once again vision. A transporter room, a small one; and, from the vibration, one at warp.
A small craft, though not a Defiant. Those are known all to well. No, not a Defiant, but small like a Frigate. Like a Katana. And that meant Coronado.
It had to be; no other craft in the area like it. Memories and reasoning seem to be slowly returning.
Coronado n.- The single largest source of fracas and hubbub in the known galaxy.
Coronado: home of the adulterer.
Indeed, memory is back, for avail or ill.
Standing now, but with assistance. A vague query, followed by an offer. Refusal seems ineffectual. Escorted now -- wasn't this a personal vocation? Whatever.
Home at last, though bittersweet. This is where it all began. The launching point to this galaxy from the last.
Maybe this is a chance to start over. |