SD241907.29| Klaxon lullaby

Posted on 29 Jul 2019 @ 10:16pm by Lieutenant Commander Finley Bell III

401 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Tyr's Hand
Location: Unknown

WHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOPWHOOP the ship's klaxon was sounding. Finley thought it'd never stop.

"Hrnnng," he said aloud, but what he thought he was saying was something like "Won't someone turn that bloody thing off?"

The sound of the klaxon suddenly faded and morphed into something softer. It repeated, but with a much lower frequency. It was altogether more pleasant. The light, however, was so much brighter than the darkness mixed with flashing red on the ship. What...is... he was thinking, and then suddenly he was awake. He tried opening his eyes and then quickly realized his mistake. The light was terribly bright. And there was so much blue...
Finley squinted his eyes shut hard, and lay there. Yes, apparently he was laying down. Slowly he took stock of what his senses were telling him. The bright light and radiant heat sure felt like he was in atmosphere and enjoying the heat of a gaseous giant. The soft, and slowly repeating klaxon was some kind of animal chirping, and if Finley wasn't mistaken it was an Earth bird.

Finley shot up, and opened his eyes. It was painful, but squinting he forced himself to keep them open. Yes, he was under a bright sun and a blue sky. Had he gotten drunk and wandered into some kind of holodeck program? It was the only reasonable explanation. Finley reached into his boot and pulled out his flask. Odd, if he'd been drinking he might have emptied this. He took a long pull, and stowed the flask. "Computer, end program," he announced to nobody apparently. There was no response. "Computer, bugger off," he said just to be sure. Still no answer. He tapped his communicator and tried that with as much luck.

Finley got up and wiped his hands off on his uniform. He had been laying in the middle of what appeared to be a dirt path, or road.Alright then, he thought as he started walking. Soon, he crested a small hill and beheld a large cityscape. The look of it told him this society was primitive. There were telltale signs of pollution all about. It was as if the city were in a cloud of its own filth. In fact, it was. Without much in the way of options, Finley kept walking towards the city. He'd get there eventually, and maybe find some form of communication.

 

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