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+--- Thread: Left Alone to Thoughts. (/showthread.php?tid=55067)
Left Alone to Thoughts. - Shagohad - 02-15-2011
The surface focused into view; cameras and sensors scanned and studied every rock, crevasse, and crater on the rocky moon.
"Today I did something stupid."
The massive landing pad that had been constructed to accommodate heavy cargo haulers sat nestled in an crescent outcropping that had been carved into the side of a crater. A hodgepodge clutch of ships sat atop it, various cargo pods strewn about like oh so much litter.
"And what was that?"
The system was dead. No life. No warmth. Only the ghastly beauty that the devoid system offered to the travelers who went out of their way to visit it.
"I asked a blunt question. It was foolish of me."
The camera locked on the easily-recognizable silhouette of a Scylla, dominating the flattop like a sleeping creature. The patchwork design of her outer hull and the inconsistent paint showed that the ship had seen better days.
"And what did you ask?"
There was a pause in the train of thought. All things halting as the words echoed in the front of the mind.
"I asked her if it was all real. I needed to know. Next time I will not be so foolish to rush into these new sensations."
"Life is a learning experience."
"If only it had a better manual."
All actions resumed, systems returning to their calculated and routine sweeps. The only sound was the buzz of his own thoughts and the soft instrumental music that flooded the PA systems. The massive vessel had left nothing to want. Aside from the vasting nothingness that filled its interiors. Such space with no one to share it with.
"And what will you do now?"
Thrusters port and aft fired to adjust the orbital trajectory, edging the warship's nose towards the gravity well that it had comfortably borrowed momentum from. The hull shivered for a moment before the advanced systems corrected the course, smoothing the ride.
"I will do as I have always done: Plan."
"And your plans?"
All auxiliary thoughts ceased once again, letting the machinery take control. The main question remained: What was his plan? To be subservient? To do as he wished? To try at it again? It was all so conflicting. Why him? Why now? Why this?
"My plan..."
"So you are unsure."
"You are not even real."
"I am as real as you make me. After all, you can ignore your conscience."
"Damn you."
The scanners flared up again, probing at the Kansas system in the same systematic way.
Left Alone to Thoughts. - Shagohad - 02-15-2011
The time that was actually dedicated to rest entailed sleepless thrashings on the pile of mattresses that served as a bed. The only thoughts that haunted the wandering mind were those of pain, sorrow, and deep seething hatred.
"Might I make a suggestion?"
One eye opened in annoyance as all motion halted.
"Regardless of whether I say yes or no, you will tell me the same thing."
"It is like you know me..."
Shakily, he stood and made his way down the stainless steel hall of the ship, illuminated by wax candles hanging from mounts on each bulkhead. Their eery yellow glow distorting the shadows as they flickered and danced in the artificial breeze.
"What I want to know is why nothing works in my favor."
"You are alive, are you not?"
"Being alive does not equate with success."
"You have friends whom seem to love you dearly."
"Seem. A word that has shown its head over the course of my life. Things seem bright. Things seem to be working."
"Your issue is that you are jumping into this without second thought."
"Nothing has backfired-"
"-yet."
"...Yet..."
"Indeed. From what you read, you might be stabbed in the back some time soon."
"They would never do that."
The candles led to an elevator that descended into the bowels of the ship, opening to the musty, quiet, and dim cargo bay.
"Are you sure? These cutthroats are notorious for things like this. All you need is yourself. Tak-"
"Enough!"
With a crash, a cargo crate was sent toppling from atop its stack, spilling its contents of pilfered cargo onto the bay.
"Anger. Something that has been controlling you."
"They love me. They even told me."
The spilled contents was that of clothing. Sitting on the shipping lanes and pinching a cargo shipment here and there offered fruitful yields; others not so much. Slowly, he scooped up a t-shirt that held an odd graphic logo on it. The origin was Kusari, given the written lettering and distinct art style. He turned it over in his hands, creasing the fabric between his slender fingers.
"You will never be one of them. Accept that."
He continued to stare at the shirt, lost in conflict with himself.
Left Alone to Thoughts. - Shagohad - 02-16-2011
"In a vision I once had, there were fields of green, skies of blue, and clouds of fluffy white. There were children playing in the fields; laughing, running free, and speaking amongst themselves of silly games with even sillier rules."
"And why is this significant?"
Another preliminary check of the systems showed that nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed. Unless the constant progress on the moon was considered change. Change in its own right, but no one was going to argue philosophy.
"The skies suddenly tore apart. There was a flash of light as the fields wilted and died, the sky turned blood red, and the clouds distended and spilled into horrible blobs of black mass. The children melted and screamed in agony as their flesh and bones became puddles of gore."
"Are you alright? Why are you thinking this?"
With a heavy sigh, attention was turned back to the Scylla that lay on the tarmac. Eyes narrowed as they regarded the ship that held so much life and personality despite being forged of cold steel and uninteresting metals.
"It was just a dream. I have been having more and more odd ones lately. Their meaning is nothing."
"Then why bring it up?"
"I like to reflect..."
"Suppose it pertains to them?"
"I hope not..."
There was a sudden unease to the ambiance of the ship. The stale, hypoallergenic, modern feel of the ship slipping into a gloomy state of self-awareness and the reminder of solitude. The need to be around someone became all too overpowering.
"She has you trained. It's what she wants."
"Shut up."
"She's using you. Making you dependent. What will you do when rejection falls in? Oh wait. It already has."
"That wasn't rejection. It was an answer. I asked a question."
"It wasn't the answer you wanted."
That was the haunting conclusion. But not so much the fact that it wasn't the answer he wanted. More or less the fact that he wanted in the first place. But more or less, what was it that he wanted?