Bad Dreams

Posted on Mon Mar 31st, 2025 @ 7:27am by Lieutenant Commander Aaron Marcus & Lieutenant Commander Anahera Chernova
Edited on on Mon Mar 31st, 2025 @ 7:27am

1,219 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Standing By
Location: Sick Bay

Anahera entered her quarters and threw her gear on the sofa and began to undress.

She thought about what happened on the planet, as she entered her sonic shower, letting its vibrations melt away her physical pain along with the dirt.

Once she was done, she slipped on her Tholian silk robe, it was a gift to herself.

She turned off the shower.

Hanging the robe on her chair, she climbed into bed.

The sheet felt great on her skin.

Laying her head on the pillow, she was out in moments.

Then the dreams started.

She embracing an attractive young man. Their hands exploring each other's bodies while they kissed.

Something made her open her eyes, and she was unable to do anything, but watch, as he rapidly aged to death.

It moments he was only dust.

She felt herself scream, but the sound was drowned out by the voices.

Indistinct at first, but over time she could make out their words.

"Why did I have to die?" A voice said.

"You were supposed to help us, not lead us to our doom." Said another.

"You're no hero. You're just a killer." Claimed another.

"You honourless dog, you robbed me of my place in Stov'a'kor." "May Fek'lhar slowly devour your soul." A Klingon told him.

There were so many, but the last one always caused her to wake up screaming.

"You said you, loved me, but you left me to die at the hands of those Cardassian animals." "They defiled me before they were done. This was the voice of her lover, Jol Tela.

"Tela, I'm so sorry!" She screamed her eyes filled with tears.

The next morning Anahera got dressed and headed to Sickbay.

At Sickbay she yelled. "Where are you, Doc? You grouchy old bastard?"

Aaron had just settled in his office with his favorite book. There were no patients in Sick Bay and all seemed right with the world. To make things better his Percocet had kicked in and not only was there no pain in his leg but he had a nice buzz going. However, all of that came crashing down when he heard the voice of the Security Chief. He grabbed his cane and exited his office into Sick Bay proper. "I will have you know Commander that my parents knew each other when I was conceived. So, I am a lot of things but a bastard is not one. To what do I owe the honor?"

"I can't sleep." Anahera said. "Can you give me something to help me to do so.?"

"As much as I would love to simply dispense medications to the entire crew, Starfleet Medical frowns on that sort of thing unless you have reason. Although I would think mellowing this crew our somewhat would be a great reason, but I digress. First we need to see what the cause is. Do you know what is preventing your sleep?" Aaron motioned toward a biobed as he spoke and grabbed a medical tricorder. The scan were already underway.

"Bad dreams." Anahera said. "Damn it, this never use to happen." She paused. "To be poetic, the dead have come to claim my scattered psyche."

Aaron cocked an eyebrow. That was a very interesting way of putting things. At the moment he thought that perhaps the Commander required Thorny instead of himself. But he would perform the exam just to be certain. "Right. Tell me a bit about these dreams. Also, tell me what you were doing in the hours leading up to when you went to sleep. Sometimes tasks can effect your sleep cycle and your dreams."

"Well I finished my shift, took a shower and then got into bed." Anahera began. "I was dreaming that I was having sex with a handsome young man. I opened my eyes and he rapidly aged to death, leaving me covered in the dust, that was once him. Then the voices started, whispers at first, when they were loud enough to understand, they were voices of those I killed or failed to save. I woke up screaming and covered in sweat." She said.

Aaron was not sure what to make of the first part of that dream. However, the second part was pretty standard for someone in the Commander's profession. "The idea that the faces and voices of those we killed or could not save is one that people in your line of work have wrestled with since time immemorial. It can be a form of post traumatic stress disorder. But, I would hesitate to diagnose that as I am not a trained psychologist. As to the first part of your dream I am going to be honest I haven't the foggiest idea. I am going to run a quick medical scan to verify that there is nothing medically wrong. But, either way I suggest making an appointment with the Counselor and discussing this dream of yours." He began to swipe the scanning node of a medical tricorder around Anahera.

"That's a good idea." Anahera said. "Although, Counselor Rose is a little too confrontational for me. Don't get me wrong, I like confrontation in the bedroom, or in an adversary, but not a counselor, perhaps Lovegood's free."

"Choosing a Counselor is just as personal as choosing a mate. That is probably why I am both single and never go see an infernal Counselor. However, whichever you go see is entirely up to you." Aaron took a look at the medical scans and saw that there was nothing wrong with Chernova. "From this data you are medically fine. Aside from the normal drop in certain hormones due to lack of sleep. I am going to write you a prescription for Clonidine. It is a hypospray that you can take before bedtime and it will help you to get asleep and stay asleep. I am also putting an order into your file that you should speak with a Counselor and have them clear you. Very often dreams are just that, dreams. But, you seem to be genuinely concerned so you should have that conversation." He handed her a hypospray that he preloaded. "Just inject this right before you get in bed."

"Thanks, Doc." Anahera said. "I hope there's someone out there for you, be it a mate, or a counsellor."

"Well I appreciate the sentiment. But, I do not believe that I could put up with anyone for an extended period of time. Now, Commander I do believe you have an appointment with your pillow to go keep. Gods know we do not want our Security Chief falling asleep on the job. I think the Lady In Charge may have something to say about that." Aaron cocked an eyebrow and tossed the hypospray back on the cart. He grabbed his cane and turned to head back toward his office. His leg bothered him to no end and he wanted nothing more than to be left alone for the moment.

"True. Thanks again, Doc." Anahera said. "See ya."

"Anytime Iron Fist, Anytime." Aaron said with a wave of his hand. A pill bottle called his name at the moment.

Lt. Commander Anahera Chernova
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Ontario

Lieutenant Commander Aaron Marcus
Chief Medical Officer
USS Ontario

 

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