Bad Dreams

[Voyager]

Valor shifted and whimpered in her sleep. Wind swept the desert around her, lifting the stray lock of hair that had escaped her bedding and making it flutter with a life of its own. A soleet waddled up, sniffing at her feet before jerking to attention with a startled cheep. Its huge, bright eyes reflected the moon back up at itself before the little creature scampered off to hide itself in the safety of its burrow.

In her dreams, she was running.

This was nothing unusual in and of itself. Waking or dreaming, Valor Jones loved the feel of the wind on her skin and the ground receding beneath her feet. She'd been running since she'd first learned to walk. It was her way of expressing herself to the world around her. How better to touch every mile of it?

No. What was unusual was that she was running AWAY.

The dreamscape was foreign. Twisted. Wrong. Her soles burned when they touched the ground. With every stride, the very earth beneath her demanded something that ran counter to her deepest convictions. There was no escape.

Choose

As she ran, her body changed. Her pale skin ran like wax, hardening into hard, shiny scales. Her scream was raw and defiant, echoing the forlorn hunting calls of the woodwolves.

Noooo!

But still the world mocked her. The anger and fear flooding her stung almost as badly as the biting burning of the ground beneath her feet.

Fight

Her fingers lengthened, the skin stretching thin and transparent between them. The wind pressed their transparent surface, almost, but not completely, lifting her from the tormenting ground. It was an illusory hope that dashed itself before it was even completely recognized. There WAS no escape.

NEVER!

Luminous eyes followed her headlong rush, blinking into nothingness before her eyes could register their positions. Valor was well and truely afraid. Why was this happening? How could anything or anyone force her to declare for one faction or another when she knew beyond all doubt that all of them were wrong? When presented with a choice of evils, why not select your OWN path? To choose the lesser of evils was still to choose an evil.

Your choice is acknowledged

Serras stood in front of her, arms outstretched, rifle slung high on its strap on her back, eyes burning in the dark with a light of their own. The tiny agent's smile was cold and disturbing. The warmth and humor Valor had always so loved were gone beyond memory, replaced by something she couldn't understand. Ice trickled down her spine as she tried to stop or dodge around the little blonde.

"Choose, Desi." Serras' voice was hollow and lifeless, "Come with me. If you don't, you'll die. They'll all die, you know. Resistance... is pointless."

Valor woke with a muffled shriek. Tangled in her bedding, she struggled to sit up, chest heaving and eyes wide and whiterimmed. The desert wind moaned between the sand and stars.

resistance... is pointless....

Teeth chattering in shock, the Desert Reet stared blindly back towards the distant lights of the outpost. Her feet still burned. Her heart was colder than the ice shards running through her veins.

"Nothing is pointless" she whispered, "Nothing is pointless if you believe in it. I will not be moved."