"Fear"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

07.19.07

USS Excalibur

“Fear”

 

Left Ear JoNs talked quietly with the third shift armory supervisor - whose name she could not remember to save her life – as she entered the last bit of information on a padd that the technician had imparted to her.

 

The Benzite ensign offered the Caitian lieutenant a slight smile as he breathed in the vapors from his breathing apparatus. “I am pleased I could be of help Lieutenant JoNs. Is there anything more that I can do?”

 

Her ears flipped back playfully. “You’ve done more then enough Ensign, thank you. The visual refresher course with the gravitic mines was just what I needed, and the secondary information that you imparted will be of benefit to me from a tactical sense. Dismissed.”

 

The Benzite – Dek! That was his name – nodded and took his leave of the security officer.

 

The tawny furred feline busied herself making some minor changes to the padd configuration. A cold chill washed over her, but she made a minor note of it; it was the Armory. Armories were big and had drafty blast doors.

 

“Lieutenant JoNs…” a raspy voice with a rumbling undercurrent lanced into her thoughts. The felinoid whirled around. A yelped growl reverberated within the area and the padd clattered to the decking.

 

Oh my gods. It was Morrison, and Left Ear much preferred the first time (and version) when he had appeared to her. Singh Morrison, rather his apparition, former ensign, stood there in a scuffed Starfleet uniform. But – his face – that was the killer. Dark blood contrasted sharply with his light toned skin, and his wavy brown hair was caked with gore. Shrapnel was deeply embedded on the one side of his head. His eyes were glazed white and lit from within with an eerie white light.

 

Ancient instincts reacted, and JoNs dropped to all fours, hackles raised and ears flat to her skull. This was not a good situation to be in. Her gaze searched the area, and no one was around. Of course not.

 

With some effort, the Caitian found her voice and spoke to the specter before her. “Appearing to me a second time, are you Singh?”

 

“The Excalibur crew is on a dark path.”

 

“Explain.” Oh wonderful. How was your day today JoNs? Well, you know, it would seem I have this dead former crewmember following me around imparting non cheerful information.

 

“The enemy is dangerous. The upcoming battles will be harsh. There is a dark path awaiting all who enter battle. You, JoNs, will cower in battle, and there will be a cost.”

“….a cost for me. How?” She had begun to slowly circle the dead man; he had shrapnel imbedded in his back too.

 

“The cost will be for you, and what others will suffer due to your cowardice.”

 

“Battles and wars tend to have high costs Mister Morrison. The Dominion, the Rihans, the Klingons, Humans, the Borg and now the Scorpiad. The list goes on. Hundreds of beings have died fighting in their skirmishes, and allied skirmishes, across several sectors. Battle is a dark path for anyone, and the costs are usually high. And, yes…there can be a coward or two. This upcoming skirmish for the wormhole in this sector will be no different.”

 

The spirit spoke again. “You are on a dark path Left Ear.”

 

This was the second instance that Singh had appeared to her; this was deliberate, and he had picked JoNs for a reason. Cait, like many other planetary cultures, had mystic or beliefs of the faith. She needed to find our why this restless spirit had singled her out.

 

“Why me Morrison? And I am no coward.”

 

“Your dark path is palpable. I am drawn to it. I want it. And you.”

 

Oh my gods. “You son of a bitch.”

 

“Thank you, but no - my mother was human, not a canine.”

 

A Caitian prayer popped unbidden into the panicked recesses of her mind. She started to back away from the thing. “….protect me and guide me to the Light…”

 

“Those words are of no consequence.” Morrison slowly moved toward her.

 

Despite her fear, the feline officer’s tactical thoughts were still scrambling. Answers, a plan, anything! Stay focused!

 

“…I will fear no evil as I walk in the Shadow Realm...”

 

JoNs stopped in mid recitation, and stopped backing up as her mind latched onto a possibility. The shrapnel.

 

The security officer stood up on her hind paws, trembling and panting, but wanting an answer. “You cowered, didn’t you Morrison?”

 

The dead man cocked his head eerily to one side.

 

“…I checked the data base after we last met. Morrison, Singh, Security Ensign. Assigned to Excalibur, third shift tactical. A skirmish with Orion pirates eight months ago did not go well…at least for you.”

 

A low growling started deep in the spirit’s chest.

 

“….you ran, didn’t you Ensign? That shrapnel spray on your back? It is a low spray pattern. The blasting started, the tactical console went haywire with incoming readings and targets and you panicked. You turned and started to run away from the console. But the explosion caught you in the lower back. The jolt from the impact caused you to turn back. You were killed by the secondary shrapnel spray – the one that brained you. Singh Morrison, killed in action – and no one was the wiser as to what really happened, where they?”

 

Morrison’s eyes glowed, and his incisor teeth elongated.

 

This was no figment, no simple ghost. A demon. She was dealing with a demon. What had once been the spirit of Singh Morrison had gone corrupt. He was trapped in his own hell, prowling the ship, and he wanted to take others who fell on the battlefield down with him.

 

He shrieked and rushed at her.

 

She really had no time to act. What could she act against?

 

He went right through her, dissipating into a cold mist.

 

Left Ear dropped to her knees, clutching her paws to her chest. The cold was overwhelming.

 

Evil. She could feel it. It was there.

 

Left Ear shifted her posture, kneeled on one knee, and rested her forearm across her upraised knee. Her free paw was placed flat against the armory decking. She repeated a mantra over and over, quietly, looking as if she was praying to the curious stares of the technicians who had entered the area.

 

“I will not cower on the battlefield. I will not be taken on the battlefield. I will not let the dark overpower me on the battlefield. Hunter Guardian, protect me and guide me to the Light. I will fear no evil as I travel in the Shadow Realm...”

[Dox Maturin 0]

Ack! A ghost! What's with the fangs? Me thinks a certain crewmember is projecting herself to terrorize our poor kitty. She knows who she is! :D

[Kansas_Jones 0]

Ack! A ghost! What's with the fangs? Me thinks a certain crewmember is projecting herself to terrorize our poor kitty. She knows who she is! :D

 

Who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters!

[Victria 0]

Ack! A ghost! What's with the fangs? Me thinks a certain crewmember is projecting herself to terrorize our poor kitty. She knows who she is! :)

 

Hey... I resemble that remark. ::Evil grin::

I think Dox is going to have a midnight visit of his own if he isn't careful. Muhahahahahaha.

 

Nice log JoNs. Glad I finally got to read it! :)