Wakes

[tasha_yar]

The nightmares were particularly bad tonight. There was a smell to them. Burnt polymers, dry sand, and something decaying. Someone...or was it something? It was talking in a voice that sounded far away, yet at the same time cloying, choking, drowning. A death rattle voice.

An interesting notion I do not share. It rasped mockingly. You may leave now; if you wish.

But she couldn't leave. There had been a logic to the dream where she couldn't leave. She stepped in front of Data. She couldn't recall what she said. She was talking and moving, focusing this thing's attention on her. Then the dream shifted and she was flying and when she landed there was nothing.

She took a deep breath in and tried opening her eyes. Her chest hurt. Everything hurt. She redoubled her efforts, took the next breath in and opened her eyes only to discover she had a sizable headache. There was an unhappy gasp as she pulled herself up to a seating position and marveled at the fact she hadn't felt this bad since the day after the Tchaikovsky problem. Whatever this was, she'd check in with Dr. Crusher if she felt any worse.

"Computer, give me the time."

"The time is 0713 hours and 17 seconds."

Tasha spat out something short, scandalous, and to the point that covered her irritation with being nearly late. No time for a shower. Good thing she had fallen asleep in uniform again. She made herself leave the bed, throws on her boots, runs her fingers through her honey blonde hair, and starts out the door.

In her somewhat sleep-and-pain fogged state, she didn't notice some things she should have, like the differences in the few uniformed officers passing her in this early hour. It was only when she entered the lift and ordered it to the bridge that she encountered her first problem.

"Bridge."

The turbolift didn't budge. She repeated herself.

"Bridge!"

Still nothing.

She sighed. There must be some kind of maintenance going on. Damn annoying.

She touched her badge. "Yar to bridge."

Silence. The communicator was unresponsive.

She let out a huff and made a note to go to the gym this evening to take all of this out on the punching bags. Think, Tasha!

Most of the primary bridge crew would not be on at this hour. Will could be busy. Data could be up there, or he could be tinkering with the lifts. Either way, she wasn't much interested in presenting herself to his cheerful demeanor while she was like this. Same thing with Geordi. She could get Worf, but he would have just gotten off shift and he needed to understand what "time off" meant - even if she had a poor grasp of it herself. That left:

"Yar to Captian Picard."

[OOC note: Picard gets to be tortured first and without back-up. The next post is going to be open. Thank you.]

Comments

[tea_earlgrey_hot]

This time, the communicator does respond.

Picard, seated at his desk in his ready room, receives the communication. It will be several long seconds before he acknowledges.

"This is Picard," he says, voice measured. "Repeat to whom I'm speaking?"

He cannot have heard correctly.

Section 23 Baker, Room 1631: Sickbay

[ten_fwd_npcs]

In the past year, Sickbay has played witness to a number of odd events. Just recently, CMO Kate Pulaski appeared without warning; at around the same time, Worf started bouncing between points in his timeline.

But the one thing nobody expected to see was Lieutenant Tasha Yar.

When the doors open, the security officers are the first to enter, followed by Tasha with Picard close behind her. The captain looks grim, as does the lieutenant, but it's the latter Beverly can't keep her eyes off of. She nearly drops the PADD she had been holding.

"Tasha?" she breathes, gaze flickering between the two of them. Eventually it ends up on Captain Picard. "But how? When?"