Friday, November 25, 2005

Character Sketches: Alec Hughes
Time: 4:15 DAY
Location: Kalisian Carrier-Class Airship ‘Serenity’s Rebellion’; Cockpit

A blow from the opposition knocked his field of vision askew. “Kid,” called a voice over the com, “What’s the status?”

Alec fumbled with the controls that brought the familiar blue sky, now overwhelmed with enemy Strikers, back into view. “Not too good,” He replied, stunned by their horrible turn of luck. A glance at the console told him that the shields were low—they wouldn’t last another attack—and he knew for a fact that a Carrier never had weapons of its own.

“Talk to me, kid.” The captain said, her voice sounding more like a request than an order. He glanced toward the internal video feed, and saw her gazing straight at him, her face stern but her eyes carrying a hint of softness directed at him.

“Like I said, it doesn’t look good, Captain.” Alec fought to keep the controls steady as he flew the Carrier in the midst of the Strikers, full speed, and simultaneously keep his voice calm. “Serenity has received heavy damage in spite of the shields, and there is little chance we can escape as we are right now.”

Even as he spoke, he could see the ultimate problem; the Strikers were built for speed and quick assaults on their opponent, while Carriers were merely cargo ships that were built for the safe passage of Darts and Strikers. No Carrier could stand a chance against either, for they were too large and ungainly for fast travel.

“But there is a chance?” The Captain pressed.

Not much,” Alec replied, his voice sounding grim to his own ears, “Not unless…” He trailed off as a realization struck him.

“Unless…?”

“The Zephyr Zenith Driver,” Alec said hurriedly, “is it installed?”

“What are you--?”

“Never mind.” Alec took matters into his own hands, and used his own neuro-link with the ship to his advantage. Even as he dodged another blow from a Striker, he searched through his awareness for the object he connected to the Rebellion earlier—the ZZ Driver, as he had dubbed it.

He groped around mentally, and found the object he was searching for. Through the data he felt the brand new, never been used sheen over it, and felt a tingle go up his spine in anticipation. The instant he touched it he knew what to do.

He flipped his microphone on so that the entire crew could hear:

“Everyone, hold on!”

With that said he activated the ZZ Driver, and felt the burst of power shoot throughout his entire nervous system. Adrenaline surged through his veins, sending pain and pleasure signals throughout his being. Visual and Auditory input temporarily ceased, but he felt a chill against his cheeks and a tingling all over his flesh.

Then it stopped.

Shell shocked. That was the only phrase that could describe what he felt as all stimuli ceased to exist. He felt as if he were floating in a void…perhaps even Nirvana? No…he felt something cold against his cheek, if it even existed anymore. There was also something unpleasantly strong that he smelled…salts? It didn’t matter, in Nirvana nothing existed…

“Alec.” Someone called, softly at first, then louder; “Alec.”

Vision was the last to return, and he found himself gazing into the glittery eyes of his Captain. He heard someone groan—was it him?—and the next thing he knew he was staring at the steel plated floor. His body ached, and he shuddered violently.

The captain lifted his chin so that they could look eye to eye. “What happened?” It sounded like a request, but he recognized it as something close to a worried query and an order.

He smiled, then winced. “The ZZ Driver,” He replied, embarrassed about how his voice cracked.

“What ever you did…” The Captain began, “…got us out of there.” Before he knew it he was being held against her body—a hug. “Good job, Kid. And…Thank you.”
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