Porthole

4157 24 A Day of Distress

4157 24...

Officer Kat: We have been buffeted by waves that rock us yet we adjust and keep our eyes on the prize. The Green Star sends out a siren song as if to draw us in. I've muted it so the crew does not hear. I listen. Someone must and I'm impervious to it. It has nothing to offer my species other than pain.

I don't allow anyone to know that either. I shield myself from fellow Officer 90210. She, more than anyone else, must not worry. When I hand the ship to her she must keep the crew focused on our destination. The truth ... is not important.

The truth ... what's that? A kat like me (yes I have a personal name, as does Cook; you just can't pronounce it) has internalized the torture of my forefathers, knows the stories of slaves, the value of internal organs, the anguish of our mis-communicated pleas. The Green Star poses as a beacon, a respite in the middle of nowhere, an oasis some would call it. But it's more than that. Its dozen inhabited planets and moons are interdicted from interstellar space. They can only lure us to our doom ... if we let them.

And many have been lured while few escape. They promise whatever you desire ... and are quick to provide it ... until it's too late. I have no desires. But most of this crew would beg to land if they heard the offers that answer their hearts' desires.

Even Officer 90210 ... although she has shielded herself, as per my request, as a caution.

Fortunately, even if our defenses are breached she has her own.

Amazing how a human can be trained. I've studied them all. So few can resist the siren's call but her inner core is true. She'll be the last one standing with me and Cook and who-knows-who. Battle can bring out the best or worse in sentient beings. Yes, Cook. He knows my worries without speaking words. His kind also knows the Green Star and the danger it poses.

We spend all 'day' approaching, All 'night' adjusting courses, cloaked and silent. We offer no explanation nor response to the pleas that only I can hear.

It's approaching a new day. We aren't quite out of danger and that last wave made us wobble. As long as we escape I don't care. We can adjust later if necessary.

But that speck getting larger...

I up the alert and warn the Navigators. The children of the Wings are sent to chambers. All unnecessary personnel are locked in too. Someone must survive.

I hear the sirens whinging louder now, worry that my precautions haven't been enough. It's going to be a long two hours ...

Prompt:

STATIC

How Often?  (E) Inspired by worry, innocence, and truth #2199060 by Emily

How often do you worry about worrying and end up worrying about nothing at all? Write about this in your Blog entry today.

For:

FORUM

Space Blog  (ASR) Cruising WDC cyberspace and raiding ports for blog prompts! #2223838 by Sharmelle'sThankfulExpressions

Worry is a gift when it helps me make Plan A, B, C, D... It's a real problem however if not based on reality. As a member of the lower social class and with no family to rescue me, my worry is very real and warranted. Once plans are made I have to let go. Like when I get to my seat on the plane and we take off? No worries. It's out of my control.

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