"Hard Questions"

[Guest Laarell]

So these were their ghosts. Not supernatural, not even energy-based. They were living weapons.

 

Laarell was reminded of the Borg, and that alone was enough to put her ill at ease. Cybernetics... the entire concept made her generally ill to her stomach, and there were very few scientific concepts which could affect her in such a manner. But now, here she was, toting one to the Bridge like... a trophy? She wasn't sure this was such a wonderful idea.

 

Allies didn't come that easily, frankly. Powerful augment-allies came even less frequently. Enemies were much more likely, and the Orion was likely leading a deadly one straight into the nerve center of Excalibur.

 

What was she thinking? Had she lost her mind? Was it purely an act of desperation?

 

Then again, they hadn't exactly had a choice. But the lack of a choice was hopefully the right choice.

 

----

 

She didn't like the feel of it.

 

It wasn't natural.

 

Something wasn't right.

 

Scurrying towards the back of her cage, a (supposedly) small tarantula curled up its legs against its abdomen, looking outright miserable.

 

What was near its home? It wasn't terribly near, not the same room, or the same deck. But there was something that wasn't right, and it was close enough to make the hair stand up on the back of her thorax.

 

It was...metallic... and... something else. Something not good to bite.

 

Not natural. Frightening.

 

She wanted a cricket. Crickets made her feel better, after all. The green one came to feed her crickets, and everything was safe.

 

Where was the green one to protect her? What was she supposed to do until the green one came? Crawling under half of a coconut shell, Citrus shuddered, eight little legs shaking.

 

As long as they didn't come closer, she'd be safe in her little cave.