Chapter 3: To Dreams of Possible Futures
Sheridan had fallen asleep. In his bed on his ship. The stress and agony and anguish had built up until he finally had to turn over command to his second as he went to go get some sleep. What dreams pass through the minds of commanders? Are they the same as the ones everyone else dreamed? Did impressions and visions get passed on to them? Was the answers of everything he wanted in those dreams?
He walked onto a station he had never known or seen before. Someone was supposed to meet him there, but not one was there. Then, a woman came rushing up to him, grabbing the guard at this transfer point and met him in a semi-honor guard.
He walked in a garden area. He stepped up to a being. This being was in strange robes, which almost looked like a toilet seat for a helmet. This being he knew, and talked to. But, he didn't make sense when he spoke back to him.
He sat by a fire in a cave. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing there. A dirty blanket was pulled up around him, keeping out the cold. Opposite him on a rock sat a being with long fingers and high forehead. Talking to him about letting go.
He walked onto that station he had seen earlier. Only this time, he was accompanied by The One. Their hands were together, their fingers interlaced. And he could strongly feel love between them.
He flew in a shuttle, approaching a ship. It was very long, and the back was very tall. It reminded him of a club. And for some reason it invoked the feeling of mythos upon him.
No, he had never been any of these places. Was this the future? No, it couldn't be. It had to be just the product of dreams.
"That's where you are wrong Sheridan," a voice, deep and theatrical said beside him, "This is not just the product of dreams."
