Mystic Echos

Posted on 23 May 2021 @ 1:13am by Ensign Kell Toran
Edited on 23 May 2021 @ 11:49am

The air felt... wrong. Like it was as if it was charged with panic and a tension laced with tempers. Flashing red lights brought a menacing glow to the smoke that hung silently. Ensign Kell Toran, Operations Specialist for the Starship Boston, looked around the cramped space onboard the Runabout Mystic. Fear crept into her hands as they held the manual controls to warp core, the raging blue glow pulsating with blinding intensity as it casts harsh shadows. Kell takes in the moment like a still moment in time. Everything slowed as her determination bubbled to the surface.


Everything came back to life in a terrifying jolt as reality snapped the young Ensign back into action.


"Captain... we are... going to attempt to resonate warp fields by manually realigning the warp core on the Mystic," T’Char spoke into the comms. Even the Vulcan’s normal stoic demeanor was losing its edge. Next to her, the engineer in charge worked furiously at the helm station, trying to calm the catastrophe in the making.

"Start adjusting the amplifier, I'm working on the output!” George Huxley called over his shoulder.

Kell looked up from her work for a moment, trying not to be blinded by the core. "Numbers! What do I need to set it to?”

"Start increasing by point 1 until I tell you to stop! This isn't an exact science, you know!”

Kell starts her adjustments, no longer paying anything else any attention.

“Aye sir. Ky- *hem*- th'Vovass, do you read?” T’Char continued with the Comms. "Try to maintain as much stability as you can, variations in the warp field will make resonance extremely difficult.”

Gritting her teeth as she fights the controls, she snaps back at George. "Yes, it is! It is literally advanced rocket science!"

George doesn’t look up. "There isn't a damn manual to make two dissimilar cores resonate at high warp, and you know it!”

"Did you check the glove box?” She wrestles a hand free long enough to slap her combadge.

"We're gonna see some turbulence here in a minute, everyone brace!” She heard George warn everyone.

T'Char steadies herself. "Bracing!"

"Toran to Boston. I need your best hands on the core, Cap'n. Like, right now!” She calls out as a bracket in her way cuts into her wrist as she reaches for the controls.

"Kell, give me...another point three seven.” George calls out the adjustment.

Like a voice from the crowd, small and muffled, she could hear the captain’s reply. “Commander Dlett's ready to receive any configurations you have for him, Ms. Toran.”

Kell gently works the core. "How about now?

Another small voice, this one much more passionate. "We're already here, Toran, what the hell are you up to? Core is lighting up like a Christmas tree down here!” Delaney. The one voice she wanted to hear from the depths of the Boston.

T'Char grips the edge of her console with one hand and the seat of her chair with the other, clenching her teeth as she makes corrections on the fly. George looks at her briefly. "T'Char, talk to me! Where are we at?”

Kell looks down at her combadge, now nearly shouting. "I'm, uh, kind of wrist deep in a very Mystical time bomb if we don't line this up right, D. I need your warp field frequency in real time!

"Nine five decimal! Resonance is not yet established, drift is reducing in volume!" T’Char taped her screen, getting up from her seat to move another console.

Kell heard Delaney respond, but didn’t catch what he said.

"Kell, best guess at this point,” George calls back at her.

Kell winces as she makes one last adjustment

T'Char taped her screen. "Frequency established! Data received, sending it to you now Toran!”

"You're gonna need to read it for me!” Kell is fighting against the pain as blood starts trickling down her arm from the cut.

"Four point six six three eight mark two two one seven!” T’Char reads out loud.

The vessel twists and groans, lurching to one side. "Crap, crap, crap! I have an imbalance on the port emitter. Compensating!” George wrestles with the helm., glancing to the blonde science officer next to him. "Everything is peachy, Carmen, just hold on!”

"Fluctuations are increasing! Power flow overload in port nacelle! We're venting plasma!" T’Char yelps, before a metallic crunching sound confirms her statement. "Toran! Adjust downwards by point zero zero six! Now!”

George moves quickly, leaping out of his chair to assess the damage. "Shit! Carmen, take the pilot's chair, do exactly what anyone tells you to do!

"One five... six.. Seven! Wait, Don-!" Kell looks up as there is a bright flash and a loud bang.



Lieutenant Kell Toran wakes up with a frightened panic. She frantically fights to free herself from her covers, shaking and shivering. She looks down at her hands with blurred vision. With her heart racing, she rushes out of bed to her baby’s bed. She stops with a sob, covering her mouth as she sees her child sleeping peacefully. Relief washed over her, only to be wracked with a guilty nausea. She slumped against the wall, sliding down to the carpet in ragged, silent sobs. She tries to fight back, choking on her emotions. She hugs her knees and buries her face in her arms as she lets go of the last of her resistance. She sobs silently on the floor, shaking.
It’s not the first time, it won’t be the last... a whisper of a voice tells her in the back of her mind. She almost lost you...



***



“Kell, as much as I love hearing from you, you look like shit.” Kell sat back in her comfy chair, staring down at the flawless, naïve reflection. She shook her head as the reflection, dressed in a flowy sundress with a genuinely happy smile, framed by her short red hair, sat on what appeared to be the porch swing of the family home. “You really should get some more sleep. And some fresh air.”

“No shit.” Kell mutters, watching her twin fuss over something or another. “Listen, I really hate that I have to ask, but, that thing we agreed on...”

“Thing?” she asks, sipping from a garishly large, annoyingly brightly colored mug.

“THE thing, Kenan. The worst-case-scenario thing.”

Kenan Toran froze in place for a long moment, studying her wayward twin with a serious gaze for a very long moment. “Has it really gotten that bad?”

Kell sighs, shifting in her seat. As her gaze wanders to Anya’s crib in the dimly lit room, she finally admits the truth. “Yeah, Kee, it is. I don’t want to do this, but I have to do what is right...”

“We have your back, whatever you want to do.”

Kell wipes her eyes, nodding. “It’s not safe on the Boston anymore. It’s time to come home...”