STF

Brig- Late Night (Creed)

Posted Aug. 29, 2020, 11:17 a.m. by Commander Ardashir "Jack" Creed (Executive Officer / CIO) (Steven Sigle)

Posted by Lieutenant Faye Calloway (Mission Specialist) in Brig- Late Night (Creed)

Posted by Commander Ardashir “Jack” Creed (Executive Officer / CIO) in Brig- Late Night

Posted by Lieutenant Faye Calloway (Mission Specialist) in Brig- Late Night
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
It was a simple thing, sleep, and when a person was really tired, sleep became a beast of its own, taking over and claiming this time as its own.

Faye and sleep were not the best of friends.

Now, lying on her back on the mattress (really not much more than a flat piece of foam), she could at least feel relief at the fact that Starfleet had generally humane prison cells. This was not the cold hard surface she had spent all that time on.

What she had perfected back then was the ideal way to sleep that provided as much comfort as could be gleaned from such a sparse situation. Arms above her head with her elbows bent at ninety-degrees, her forearms were draped atop each other, palms facing up. This created a perfect place to turn her head to the side slightly and rest the side of her face against her arm. It was the perfect little cushion, and thus one could (hypothetically) sleep. And this she had used for nine months.

Except that it hadn’t been nine months. Her imprisonment had lasted just over that but not every night of that she had slept. Or had been allowed to. The conditions varied greatly and that was the point, right? Keep your prisoner from having anything amounting to normalcy so that they were one step closer to breaking.

And that was just the light. There was the temperature. More often than not, cold. And there had never been a bed. Just a hard floor that in her hazy memories she wasn’t entirely sure if it had been stone or metal.

When she had escaped and had attempted to sleep in a bed again. And couldn’t. The mattress had been too soft and her messed up back couldn’t handle it. Instead she had resorted to sleeping on the carpeted floor of her quarters. After a week, she added a blanket. It took six whole month of physiotherapy before she could sleep in a normal bed again.

This brig cell was somewhere in the middle, and therein lay the mercy. And the danger. Her overactive mind had finally succumbed to rest but it was in the subconscious that memories swirled and mixed. there were Cardassians and Jem’Hadar and then Romulans too. Because of course there were. Pain mixed with terror mixed with the soft sounds of a comforting voice she couldn’t fully place but a part of her wanted to trust.

The nightmare raged on and her breaths became shaky, her murmurs troubled.

~Faye Calloway, Prisoner

Having ended his shift and submitted his report before the next day’s activities Luke was in bed but couldn’t sleep, he hadn’t seen Zef in a couple of days and would have to book an earlier session. He wasnt sure if it was the PTSD or recent events that caused this bout of sleeplessness but after a few hours of tossing and turning decided to go check on Faye. After the discussion with the Captain it had played on his mind, Luke still belived in the actions he had took but what really bothered him was the impartiality and the ‘chip on the shoulder’ comment.

Pulling himself out of bed, fully clothed in what he called his sleeping uniform which was just a uniform he slept in. This stemmed from the war when he would have to find anywhere or anytime to sleep and be ready at a moments notice. He changed into something a little more casual which consisted of some jogging trousers and a shirt and headed out the door.

The journey to the brig wasn’t long and the on duty security officer looked at him surprised as he walked in, Luke was meant to be getting rest. He acknowledged him before turning to Faye and hearing her trembling breaths he was worried for her, in a way he hadn’t expected. Then her murming began. “Lower the forcefield” when the security officer didn’t comply he looked over his shoulder.

“Shes clearly in distress, if it’s medical I don’t want her dying on our watch” The force field lowered moments after and Luke walked in. He knew what night terrors looked like, he had then almost every night thanks to his PTSD. “Calloway” He said softly in the way he would be woken, nothing to jolt him awake just enough to rouse him. “Calloway” He said again, the forcefield going up behind him.

  • Lieutenant Luke Wyatt

Whispered voices again. Voices reaching out to her. False hope. She couldn’t succumb to them!

Then it was like something reached out and plucked her from the carnage. Her eyes slipped open only to be met with dim light and confusion. She expected the red to be everywhere, or maybe to see her tormentor grinning down at her moments before the pain would start again. Trembling, her head snapped in Luke’s direction and in the dim light, she almost cried out, surprised someone was actually there. But the small bit of recognition that allowed her to know it wasn’t was replaced quickly by her most recent companion: shame. Twisting her head away and forcing herself to gaze at the metal bulkhead, Faye wanted to toss some sarcastic comment his way like ‘Come to gloat?’ or something else equally pithy. Instead, her vision blurred and hot tears slipped down her face.

~Faye Calloway, Prisoner

Jack needed to know all that was going on. He hadn’t white approved of the approach they had taken and it seemed it didn’t go the way everyone always assumed as he entered the brig as he relieved the officer on watch as Faye slept. Moving to the console he began to input an algorithm as the cameras around them all shuttered out as he looked stepped toward her cell.

“I hear you have had quite the ordeal. All good plans of mice and men and all…” Jack said in a low even tone. He needed to know more, a trace of her route could help save her name as he looked at the darkness of the cell he moved toward it as he turned then light on.

Faye grumbled. So it was going to be similar to before. Good to know. Not that she had expected to get much sleep tonight, or even at all during her stay in the cell. With a sigh, she pushed herself into a sitting position, crossing her feet. Did she look annoyed? Most definitely.

“So… just what did you find?” Jack asked her.

Creed, XO

OOC: Going to split the thread so both can continue.
IC:
Faye parsed his words but his question didn’t make sense. “I… well, I got the message out. I managed to get a ping letting me know it was received but there was no immediate reply. I’d check for more but kind of difficult from inside a cell,” she said dryly. Nothing about the situation was ideal, but wasn’t that why it was so seemingly dire in the first place. The others would have to have everything explained in great deal in order to understand where they were coming from but Creed at least understood the stakes. Or so she hoped.

~Faye Calloway, Prisoner

“That’s all good and well, but we need part two now. In order to get you out, I need someone I can take in. We will need all the details you used to communicate with the handler, from there I can see what responses we get back… I will need to know… how to be you I guess.” Jack said with a half cocked smile. “What code phrases he expects, what details he might throw at me. What details you have no one replacing him would be aware of. The whole nine yards, that’s… the only we we get you out of this cell.” Jack said with a deep sigh. This wasn’t his way, but it was the way he was going to be forced to go down if all else failed.

Creed, XO


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