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Date: May 15th, 2015 3:26 PM Author: wine becky trust fund
ter the warp core to manually reengage the dilithium control rods, gazing at you in admiration as you breathe in the radioactive mist, tears welling in his spectral eyes, his intangible hand brushing continuously against your cheek, comforting you, soothing you, as you go about this final task, the floor creaking as the deck plates strain against the forces of the great ship rocketing upward through the battlespace, spiraling, trying to outmanuever the enemy fleet, the alarms warbling, the computer's monotone intonation "power levels failing," your eyes grim and fixed and defiant in this task, enduring against the slip hand of death closing round you now, reinserting the final rod because it is what must be done to save them all, the last rod in place, the final breath, eyes closing, then, reopening, seeing him for the first time, feeling his hand against yours as you drift into the air, away now, far away from the ship, the deed done, the cost paid, him whispering to you "you did good, son of my sons" leading you toward the light
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2881431&forum_id=2#27898101) |
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