Post by Lieutenant JG Alerio Zhal on Mar 13, 2024 13:54:41 GMT -5
The last few hours in the ice hellscape and cave had not helped Zhal normalize at all. Marcus had said something about a stalker, the shuttles had exploded in some fucked up terrorist attack. Zhal had abandoned their comlinks as he dragged his rival pilot and helped V’Tira scramble across the snowscape until he had managed to find shelter. His mind felt like someone had a plasma torch and was holding it against his brain stem and melting the synapses and peptide bonds between where Alerio Maharli and Zhal each began.
He could feel a hand on his shoulder but when he turned to look for V’Tira he saw her against the rock wall where he had set her down. The three previous hosts all yelled at each other in the cave. Valkier the loudest of all with a lustful look in his eyes ready to pounce, and try as hard as he could no one would quiet down.
He stood away from Marion and V’Tira he kept saying their names in his head to keep his focus on the task at hand, keeping them all alive.
He paced back and forth as the hours passed and the voices continued to rise in his head. Each way he turned they were there. Cinria the brilliant archeologist and scientist that had been assassinated, Enri the chef that toured across the fleet and had five restaurants across major Federation worlds, and the one that was hidden, Valkier the thief, murderer, mercenary. Then there was him, the Pilot and musician, Star Fleet Lieutenant, and all around pain in the ass.
The ceaseless chatter from the previous hosts was driving him insane and as he began to cling to what was real the lines began to blur. His hands were bound and he was no longer sure why… the paranoia began to creep in and he struggled to stay in control. His mind began to list wildly in the tempest that was the hosts, doubts creeping in, his one stability, if he was even meant to be a host.
He walked towards V’Tira and reached for the phaser he had given her taking it in his hand and walked away when suddenly as he started to lift it he felt the cold embrace of the frozen cave floor.
He could feel a hand on his shoulder but when he turned to look for V’Tira he saw her against the rock wall where he had set her down. The three previous hosts all yelled at each other in the cave. Valkier the loudest of all with a lustful look in his eyes ready to pounce, and try as hard as he could no one would quiet down.
He stood away from Marion and V’Tira he kept saying their names in his head to keep his focus on the task at hand, keeping them all alive.
He paced back and forth as the hours passed and the voices continued to rise in his head. Each way he turned they were there. Cinria the brilliant archeologist and scientist that had been assassinated, Enri the chef that toured across the fleet and had five restaurants across major Federation worlds, and the one that was hidden, Valkier the thief, murderer, mercenary. Then there was him, the Pilot and musician, Star Fleet Lieutenant, and all around pain in the ass.
The ceaseless chatter from the previous hosts was driving him insane and as he began to cling to what was real the lines began to blur. His hands were bound and he was no longer sure why… the paranoia began to creep in and he struggled to stay in control. His mind began to list wildly in the tempest that was the hosts, doubts creeping in, his one stability, if he was even meant to be a host.
He walked towards V’Tira and reached for the phaser he had given her taking it in his hand and walked away when suddenly as he started to lift it he felt the cold embrace of the frozen cave floor.