Archive of Our Own ^beta

    There are few things more unforgiving than outer space. Even with the power of Faster than Light travel, there's little anyone can do to protect oneself against rouge asteroids, ion storms in nebulae, pulsars which drain power from vital systems, the agents of chaos that are space pirates, or being stranded in the orbit of a red giant star spouting solar flares. Not to mention hostile extraterrestrial races such as the volatile and territorial Rockmen, the treacherous schemers that are the Slugs, the uncanny metallic, anaerobic beings called the Lanius, and the violence and war-lusting Mantis. But of all the hazards of space travel in the distant future of this galaxy, possibly the most fearsome and deadly are the xenophobic, take-no-prisoners individuals aligned with the Rebellion.

    A Federation Captain named Sarah Reinhart awoke from a brief sleep in her quarters screaming, just as she had for the past eight times she had tried. Upon hearing the cries of their commander, the cybernetic engineer of Reinhart's ship, The Kestrel, rushed to her aid. By the time the Engi named Amving entered, Reinhart was sitting in her bed desperately trying to catch her breath and gain composure.

    Although there was no emotion in their synthesized voice or anything resembling a face to show concern, Amving's hesitance to speak as they looked at their wild and teary-eyed Captain spoke louder than the robotic being's words. The Engi began to ask, “Captain Reinhart…" before being cut off by The Kestrel's Captain.

    "I told you to call me 'Sarah', Amving," the Captain groaned. "Speaking informally is okay with me. And before you say it, yes; I had that dream. Again. And yes, it's the same dream I've been having for the past Earth week or so."

    In an attempt to feign some sort of humanity, Amving tilted their head to one side and asked, "Do you… do you wish to discuss it this time, Sarah? To be perfectly frank, the rest of the crew is quite worried about your night terrors. And not speaking about them with someone is counter-intuitive to any kind of therapy."

    Sarah huffed, "What's 'therapy' supposed to mean in this case? Are you saying that I need physiological help?"

    “Not precisely. What I am trying to say is, if you do not 'talk things out' with someone—particularly your crew, morale cannot be sustained. The Rebels thrive on such things, so to speak. So I would advise speaking to us, or myself, at the very least. I will be sure to relay your—”

    "No, Amving, please don't," Sarah snapped at the Engi before sighing and grumbling to herself. After a brief pause, the Captain looked Amving in their blank glass face and droned, "Look. If you really want to know… I'll tell you. But this is an order to not tell anyone else, understood?"

    "I do not fully understand the secrecy of this matter, but as you wish; I will obey your order." After gesturing for the cybernetic alien to sit down next to her, the Engi took a seat on Sarah's bed and intently listened.

    "My nightmare that I've been having… it has you, me, the rest of the crew, and four other people from across the galaxy. The Kestrel had been through Hell, as they say, and we had finally made it to the Federation's Headquarters. But the Rebels made it there first, and every spot in the sector had us and them in battle. At the Federation base, there it was: the Rebel Flagship. And it was even more terrifying than we've been told. Aside from the four weapons we know about, it had a hacking system, cloaking, overpowered drone and shield systems, mind control abilities, a teleporter, and even hard light shielding. And every night that I've had this dream…" Sarah paused to get rid of the lump building in her throat before continuing, "every time we go toe to toe with that thing, we all die in some way. And every time we die, it feels so real; almost like it was actually happening."

    "Sarah…" Amving stated as they leaned closer to their Captain, "I cannot understand dreams personally, as I cannot dream myself. While I can understand how such a dream would cause such sensations after awakening, I do not understand why you dwell on it, or why you would feel it to be real. You are alive right now; you are speaking to me, and I can sense your heart rate."

    "I know," the Captain wearily replied, "but every time we die, it's almost like I can feel myself dying. I can feel the blasts when I got shot, the flames when the cockpit catches on fire, the shrapnel when the hull gets breached, the oxygen being pulled out of me when the life support is shut down, the coldness of space when the ship's hull fractures and blows apart… it always felt like it was actually happening."

    As Sarah finished relaying the events of her recurring dream, Amving replied in the most compassionate way their logic-driven, electronic mind and monotone voice could say, "I see… while I can understand why such a nightmare would be traumatic, you must understand that such things do not constitute reality." The Engi paused before asking, "Will you be okay if I leave you for the night? The mission is in 18 Earth hours, and you need to be rested for the voyage."

    "I'll be all right," Sarah answered with a sigh as Amving arose and began to exit the Captain's quarters. Before leaving, though, the engineer turned back and stated, "Sleep well, Sarah. And remember the Earth expression of: 'There is nothing in the dark that is not there in the light.' It is a dream, and nothing more."

    The door softly closed and Amving left before the Captain shut the lights off and laid back down. Just before closing her eyes, Sarah grumbled in a near-inaudible voice, "I find no comfort in that thought."