Recollections

Posted on 11 Feb 2024 @ 11:22am by Aiden Dhow

Mission: M4 - Falling Out
Location: Kalara City
Timeline: MD05 - Pre-Hours
1094 words - 2.2 OF Standard Post Measure

The scene was always the same. Oly pressed the door open to the door to the rented space he and Turo were using as their base on this mission, expecting to find his partner only to be met by a blinding pain as something solid impacted with his brow. He didn’t recall much beyond that, barely registered his body dropping bonelessly to the ground as awareness shattered into darkness.

Oly regained consciousness in snatches. He knew he had shifted position somehow, but did not know if it had been under his own power or not. All he knew was the hand gripping his shoulder and shaking much harder than he would have liked.

”C’mon, man - you gotta wake up so we can get out of here now.” Another shake and Oly felt his head jolt sharply, nearly sending him toppling over the edge of consciousness once again.

”Tur … Stop,” he gasped, grappling for some purchase on the ground as his eyes blinked open on a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. His gaze struggled to focus on any single point, and settled briefly on the stock of Turo’s phase rifle, frowning as his vision cast a splash of red across the matte black. “What …”

”Some idiot broke our cover,” Turo grunted, hoisting Oly up from the ground and holding him there, a tight grip on the injured man’s bicep when he would have crumpled back to the ground. Something about his tone seemed off; Turo was always sharp-edged and blunt, ready to cast blame where he felt it lay, but right now that anger seemed directed at Oly. “Now I’ve got to haul your sorry ass out of here without both of us getting torn to pieces.”

Oly’s legs struggled to comply as he found himself hauled into the corridor. “We gotta scrub the system,” he protested, trying to resist the tug without losing what footing he had.

“No time - quit fighting me.” The words grated and Oly gripped what equilibrium he had to pull his arm free, staggering back from Turo to balance himself against the wall. “Vande, you’re delirious - just trust me here for once.”

Waving his hand off, Oly turned to stumble back towards the room, determined to wipe their markers from the system. If the mission was scrubbed, it was best the enemy not have anything to work from while they made their escape. He made it to the door, managed to stagger inside …

Oly gasped as his body jack-knifed to wakefulness, leaving him panting for air as he sprawled on the narrow mattress. For a moment he lay there, struggling to separate memory from his current situation. His brain couldn’t sort between cloying memories and the claustrophobic sensation of being enclosed in a stone chamber, so he found himself clambering out of bed and heading for the door, grappling for the latch to pull it open and get more air into the room. A chirp sounded, pulling him from the past in time to reach up and tap his code into the panel he had temporarily installed on the wall. It was enough for him to glance down and realize that he was dressed in nothing more than sleep-shorts. On a whim he grabbed his Burnoose and pulled it on around him, disregarding shoes as he closed the door behind him and headed up the stairs to the open air of the street above.

Nightlife in Kalara City was more vibrant than Oly had anticipated; all the same, his presence didn’t seem to stir too much attention as he shuffled over to a bench set against the outside of the building and sat down. The folds of his robe covered his bare feet, and the hood shadowed sleep-rumpled hair as he focused on drawing air in to his lungs, letting it clear his memory of the painful, disjointed images. The process was well-practiced, and brought relief from the edge of panic after a few moments time, allowing Oly to relax back against stone still holding some remnants of the day’s heat.

It had been months since he’d had the dream. Nearly a year, if he truly thought about it. Time and distance did not matter, though, as it still held the same power years out from the event as it had in the weeks he spent recovering from the initial ordeal. He reasoned the nature of his current dwelling had some part in the resurgence; that mission had him and his partner lodging in a basement chamber, larger than his current rented space but holding the same enclosed nature.

There was more, though; despite the setting, the lodgings, Oly knew it was the uncertainty surrounding this whole ordeal that had his mind looping back. He was beginning to wonder if he should have even taken this job in the first place, or if it had been a set-up from the beginning. He’d spent the hours before sleep going through all his recorded notes taken prior to arrival on the station, messages from the Commander outlining his proposed course of action, and could find no indication of duplicity. Nothing to explain the switch of tone once he actually stepped out of his cover role and began his intended task. And that in itself was the most concerning. Either Sharpton had been hijacked in some form or fashion, or this whole ‘mission’ was one elaborate plot to either fully discredit Oly or worse.

Pain flared behind his brow, prompting Oly to knead the spot reflexively. He was thinking too hard on too little sleep. If he knew what was best for him, he’d go back down and try to reclaim what rest he had been gaining before the nightmare hit. Regardless of what Sharpton did or did not intend, Oly had a job to sort here and he’d be damned if he left it to chance just because he thought someone was out to get him. All the same, he knew he wasn’t going to get to sleep anytime soon in this state. Standing, he stretched and headed back down for a few more clothes and his boots before heading out once again, setting the lock behind him. A walk about the city would help settle the rest of his nerves and promise a better chance at rest. After that, he could get a plan in order for just how he was going to untangle this mess and still keep his head.