Tuesday, March 9th, 2387.
San Francisco, Earth.

Tal’s feet pounded against the pavement in sync with the thunderous beats that sounded through her ears. Invigoration. She peeled around a corner marked by a lonely bench, her body slicing through the frigid, frost-dusted air, and jogged into Golden Gate Park.

All was quiet at this meagre hour, save for the faint chirp of early birds and the soft pitter-patter of squirrel paws ploughing through fresh grass. Trees stood sentinel overhead, but they were silent giants whose voices were a melody lost on modern ears. Beneath them, flowers tickled their roots, and sharp blades of grass protected their soil; but, they were a chorus equally reserved.

She was alone, accompanied by the wilderness and the music pulsating through her bones. Peace was found at 0500 when the world hung on the edge of tomorrow. She hardly prided herself on rising before the sun because she knew it was a necessity, not a skill.

0600 crept up on her and announced its presence by double-paned doors. Her shift lingered 60 minutes away, but Tal was an incoming Charge Nurse who had little desire to exhaust precious time with shift reports.

She wound through the halls of San Francisco General Hospital and ascended to the paediatric wing. It welcomed her with vibrant murals of majestic beasts - Giraffes galloping across the Savanah, Sehlats lounging under the Vulcan sun, and even Redbats hanging by their toes. They never ceased to etch a smile onto her lips.

“Tal!” A voice shattered her concentration, begging her to shift gears toward a Deltan man. He jogged toward her, a leash wrapped around his wrist and with it, a bright-eyed, red-and-white pit bull terrier.

“Elron,” Tal’s quiet gaze burst into an energetic storm at the sight of his companion, “and hello, Allie!” She glided to her knees, set her bag aside and opened her arms to the butt-wiggling, tail-wagging pup eager for her pension. Ten pets, an ear rub and a kiss on her spotted pink nose. Tal never missed a payment.

“What brings you by paeds, El?” Tal ran her thumbs over Allie’s greying snout and around her eyes. “Did counselling send you down for a session?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to take Allie to visit room 207.” He threw a glance down the mural-laden corridors, his eyebrows knit together. “But I’m a bit… lost.” Elron’s lips tightened in a smile. “I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”

“207?” Tal clicked her tongue, “they just so happen to be one of my kiddos.” She brushed thin spindles of red hair from her joggers and adjusted her stance, ready to pull herself back up. An irked whine stopped her. “Oh,” she pressed her fingers to her temple and gently rolled her eyes, “I’m so sorry. I almost forgot your kiss!” She leaned over and kissed Allie’s nose, offering one last pet goodbye.

“Let me change into some scrubs and I’ll meet you back here in 5?” She rolled her wrist to take note of the time. Elron’s nod was enough to dismiss her to the nearby locker room, where she hardly wasted a second transforming from ‘Tal’ to ‘Nurse Beveres’.

Within minutes, Tal found herself before Room 207 with Elron and his canine companion in tow. She lifted her fist and landed a tender rap against its mahogany doors. “Knock, knock!” She sang, taking a step back to await permission to enter. In her patience, she tapped the display perched at its centre and reciprocated the playful smile submitted to her by the file’s subject: Jaharass th’Zhadi.

“Zhadi is one of our long-term patients,” Tal explained. “He’s been with us for about six months, although he was originally admitted for a condition that we believed was terminal. Clearly, he showed us who gets to make the calls around here.”

Despite Zhadi’s condition, he was the liveliest little boy in the wing. When exposed to the world, Room 207 awarded its audience with ripples of laughter and silly expressions borne from the depths of an effervescent soul. Tal had come to relish her midday breaks when she could prance past his room on her journey to the courtyard. He never failed to shoot her a grin or wave excitedly as he plastered another one of his drawings onto the observation window. Zhadi was becoming quite the artist. And she, quite attached.

Their visit marked almost six months since the fateful day that enlisted Zhadi to her care. She still felt the trepidation quivering in his mother’s eyes. It was an open wound she’d refused to address for fear it might heal and submit her to complacency. The image of Everil’s fear served to remind Tal of her place - Zhadi’s life was a puppet suspended from her fingertips. She had to tread carefully because one miscalculation, one missed symptom, or one miswritten observation could mean death. And she would be responsible for thrusting a helpless boy into a glacial abyss.

“Tal,” Elron nudged her shoulder. “Are you good?”

“Ah.. yeah!” Tal adjusted her stethoscope about her neck and tossed him a reassuring smile. “I was just thinking about all the paperwork I’ve got to finish. If I had run of the hospital, I’d spend all day with the kids.”

A shiver chased down her spine and infected her body with a deep, intangible chill. She shuddered. Tal strived to shake it away, but each spasm sank its claws deeper into her skin. “Do you feel that?” Her voice trembled. She lifted her chin to meet Elron’s gaze in search of solace, but she was met by a hollow abyss and lips moving without the comfort of sound. “Elron?” She reached out, a hand lingering by his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. He continued to speak - every syllable like an echo pounding against an invisible wall - but his words never met her ears. They were nonsense.

“Nurse Tal..”

She shot around, gravitating to the clarity her reality refused to yield her. She was met by a thin, spindly figure whose cloudy, golden eyes were a striking antithesis to the pale blue of his dampened skin. Antennae writhed languidly at his crown, too weak to continue their campaign for freedom, and confronted her with a pleading expression.

“Zhadi..” Beveres staggered for a second. “What you doing out of bed?”

“Nurse Tal..” he repeated and held out a tiny hand that, when she found the strength to look, was open and oozing. “Help me..”

Eyebrows taut and jaw slightly parted, Tal urged her meander to a sprint. “I need a medkit- STAT!” She raised her voice - praying one of her staff would hear her plea - and hastened her pace. Eyes transfixed on the deep, sanguineous wounds carved into the lines of his palms, she reached out to Zhadi. He was too far away. She tried to run to him, her words a jumbled mess of outcry and orders, but the harder she pushed, the further he slipped from view. She was paralysed in place.

“Zhadi!” Tal shot awake in a cold sweat. Her heart pounded deep within her chest, aggravating the dull ache that drained her body into a breathless daze. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Control was her tether to existence. It provided her with the stability her mind had been robbed of for a year. Without it, she feared the world would crumble at her feet.

3 months elapsed and Tal had yet to fully accept reality. It was strange to touch and talk to people without the lingering question of their permanence. Strange to walk along the corridors of a starship and not float aimlessly in a miserable abyss. Although she had escaped the Void, the same horrors it unleashed on her frazzled mind haunted her on this plane. They were nightmares that made her question whether this was another instrument of the Void’s deception. There were few things Tal held closer than hope.

=^=Lt. Snider to Abara=^=

The Lieutenant’s voice coaxed Tal from her thoughts. She rose her head and scooted to the edge of her bed, slowly lowering her feet to the floor. Tal leaned forward, wincing at the dull ache in her spine, and reached for her cane. She prayed this wouldn’t be permanent. Hoisting herself up, she allowed her crooked gait to carry her to the desk, where she pressed her hand to the comm.

=^=Abara, here. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?=^=

=^=We’re less than one hour from the starbase.=^= His voice was terse and cold, but Abara attributed that to frustration. Like she, the freighter’s crew had no idea why they were transporting her from a psychiatric hospital to a starbase. It was a conundrum they weren’t at liberation to understand. =^=Are you prepared for departure?=^=

=^=Yes.=^= She spoke with a similar curtness. But hers was to mask the uncertainty of what the starbase had in store for her. Who had organised her transfer… and why? =^=I’ll make my way to the transporter room shortly.=^=

=^=Noted. Snider, out.=^=

Leaning against the desk, Tal took in a sharp breath. She released and forced her nightmare to the farthest niche of her brain. There were few places more imprisoning than her mind, and she had no desire to beam aboard that starbase as a woman in chains. The last year had taken enough - it had no right to her autonomy.

– Tal Abara