Beneath The Darkness Between The Stars

[Veloras Itana 0]

Beneath The Darkness

Between The Stars

 

"Prologue"

 

I've always loved a good scare. In all honesty, I think pretty much everyone does. From time to time I think we all enjoy confronting the closet monster, even if it's only in our imagination. We live in an age of scientific method and rational explanation but, you have to admit, there's nothing quite like that primordial fear of the unknown that crops up around the camp fire the first time you hear tales of the terror that lives in the darkness between the trees and beyond the firelight.

 

You know the feeling. It starts on your forearms with the almost imperceptable bristling of the hairs below your elbow. Before long it creeps its way up to the babysoft hairs along the base of your skull. The next thing you know, it's inside you and all around you at once telling you to look away but, that pull that stems from the place where your dreams live keep you locked in place and listening intently, waiting for the moment the tightness that surrounds you lets you draw your next breath. The adrenalin begins to pump and the butterflies that lie dormant in the pit of your stomach by the light of day spring to life, bringing with them those childhood chills that make you want to pull your feet from the edge of the bed and tuck the covers tightly around you for fear of being pulled under by the thing lurking beneath. That is where we're going today my friends. We're going beneath and between. So, pack your bags and remember to bring a flashlight. It gets dark in there.

 

Now before we get going I would just like to say, I know what you're thinking and, you're right. I'm just another cheesy writer making up another cheesy tale of malevolent forces attacking an angsty protagonist who has little to no chance of survival. And, believe me, I know how you feel. But bear with me if you will. I just may surprise you. The Prophets, gods, fates and destiny alike know there is more beneath the surface than we ever really see. The same may be true here.

 

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Itana looked over what she had written with a wry pensive smile. 'Expressive therapy' my ass. She thought as she tried to compile her thoughts into a cohesive and readable story. "Why am I doing this?" She asked her reflection in the viewscreen. It was one thing when all she'd been asked to do was keep a dream journal. That had in fact been helpful. But, to try to confront her fears by presenting them in story form, reliving that whole horrible year after she left Bajor. What was the point? It happened. Dwelling on it hardly seemed productive. Still, Doctor T'Pren, the last head shrinker she'd seen prior to being assigned to Excalibur, had thought it to be a valuable tool. A tool she claimed would help her to overcome almost four years of post traumatic shock. What's more she expected to recieve a copy of the finished work prior to their next departure to the Gamma Quadrant. A bit presumptuous but, Itana had agreed to give it her best shot.

 

Some people paint, some turn to music as an outlet for their inner demons. Itana always had what some would call a vivid imagination, one she had often used as a child to explain away the things that scared her. Doctor T'Pren believed it would do her well to put that imagination to work now. She'd never really been able to explain what happened to the transport shuttle Antioch or its crew. Nor had she ever fully explained what had happened when they encountered the deserted hulk of the civillian science vessel Tobias. All anyone really knew was that someone or something had descimated the crew and passengers on both vessels. Seventy-three people in all and, only she had survived. Just barely at that. For over five years she struggled with recurring nightmares and unanswered questions. She still suffered the after effects in the form of severe claustrophobia, which did not make life as an engineer easy. Nor did the fact that the prolonged isolation she had endured there had rendered her somewhat anti-social and remarkably shy.

 

Crowds made her nervous and despite being intellectually aware of how ridiculous it was, she still felt as if she were under constant scrutiny during any social situation. All these things, T'Pren felt, could be overcome if Itana would only confront what had happened to her. She believed that confrontation would lead to understanding and that understanding it, on any level, would allow her to move on. Remembering wasn't the problem though. She remembered all of it. Every second. That was the problem.

 

So, she sat at her desk, in the safety and solitude of her quarters, going over it in her mind for the billionth time, still wishing she could label it all a bad dream. But try as she might, there it was, as clear in her mind as the day it started. She was certain beyond any doubt that if she ever did tell the tale as it had happened that no one would believe it. So it would become a work of fiction. A work of fiction in which every word was true.