Chapter 3: Hollow Pursuit
Myres strapped up her side-arm belt and straightened out her grey tunic with a firm tug. As she stood at the centre of the semi-lit room, she thought back to the odd events of the previous night. The memory was hazy and difficult to pin down, but one thing stood out in her mind, the sight of that moon. Since the moment she had woken and planted her bare feet on the cold deck plates, she had thought of almost nothing else. And the feeling she got as she beheld the eerie satellite, it was frightening. It was as if she had no care for her own well-being. The only thing that mattered was that she reached its surface. Myres shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. Opening them again she forced the air out hard, and along with it her fears of the previous night. She had a meeting to get to. She turned to the door, but did not proceed. She recalled the apparition that had occupied it a few hours ago. Another cleansing breathe, and thought was gone. Myers strode to the door with purpose. It opened with a clunk and a hiss, receding into the wall as if to avoid the determined Sergeant. Myers emerged into the corridor. Stopping in the middle of the rectangular hall way, she glanced down at the floor, and smiled. How foolish must I be to let dream terrorise me, she thought. Me, an Arm warrior. She allowed her self a little chuckle before raising her head and turning left. Myers then made her way to the briefing room.
The Sergeant had been walking down the gently curving pathway for several minutes. It had been an uneventful journey thus far. She had met no other warriors on her travels, and had had only the electrical hum of the lights for company as she walked. The combination of this sombre song and the soft yellowish glow of the artificial light on the smooth bulk heads ahead were having a slightly hypnotic effect on Myers, causing her eye lids to become a great burden. However, she was soon torn from the brink of unconsciousness by a peculiar sound, a rhythmic clank of metal on metal. As the sound ricocheted between the walls of the corridor, Myers found it hard to localise its source. She stopped walking, and turned her slowly from side to side, like a radar tower zeroing in on an incoming aircraft. Scanning through another one hundred and eighty degrees, her search ended suddenly as she paused, casting a puzzled expression in the direction she had originally been travelling. The sound was fading. If she was to catch it she would have to move fast. Myers paced quickly on down the empty corridor. Her heart began to race as the walk turned into a jog. On she went, faster and faster. All her senses were heightening. The hum of the lights had become monotonous chorus, almost drowning out the beating of Myers boots on the deck plates, but not the mysterious footsteps ahead. They still resounded with perfect clarity. The jog evolved into a sprint. Myres panted, grinding her teeth as she struggled to catch the disembodied sound. Rounding the curved hall she came to a T-junction, and halted with a shallow gasp. All she saw was an ankle and a foot withdraw behind the wall. The unmistakable appendage of a Core droid body. Myres did not hesitate a second longer. She bolted for the turn in the hallway, withdrawing her sidearm simultaneously. The Sergeant ran as hard as her near petrified muscles would allow. Finally she reached the turn and stopped, her boots screeching on metallic ground as spun to face her adversary.
"Hold it!" she screamed at the receding figure. It turned to face her, but Myers did not pull the trigger. "Commander?" She said softly, in a tone of total bemusement.
"Sergeant, what the hell are doing?" Clarke said, staring a hole in the disoriented Sergeant Myers.
"I don't know." she panted, "I thought I saw..." Then the whistling began. Myres reached for her head and grunted. This time it was painful.
"Sergeant, are you alright?" Clarke asked, her outrage turning to concern.
"Yes." Myers replied as the whistling faded, "Yes I'm fine. I guess I just didn't get much sleep last night."
"Hmm." Clarke was sceptical of her soldiers self-diagnosis, "Maybe you should skip the meeting and go see the medic."
"No commander, really, I'm fine." Myers reassured her superior as she struggled to catch her breath, "I'm just a little jumpy this morning." Clarke gave a quiet growl. She was reluctant to allow Myers to attend the meeting in her state, but as the only metallurgy specialist on the mission she would be sorely missed.
"Okay." Clarke conceded. "But at the first sign of trouble you're out of there."
"I'm sure I'll be alright." Myres reiterated. But as she did, she couldn't but feel she was lying.
Myres strapped up her side-arm belt and straightened out her grey tunic with a firm tug. As she stood at the centre of the semi-lit room, she thought back to the odd events of the previous night. The memory was hazy and difficult to pin down, but one thing stood out in her mind, the sight of that moon. Since the moment she had woken and planted her bare feet on the cold deck plates, she had thought of almost nothing else. And the feeling she got as she beheld the eerie satellite, it was frightening. It was as if she had no care for her own well-being. The only thing that mattered was that she reached its surface. Myres shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. Opening them again she forced the air out hard, and along with it her fears of the previous night. She had a meeting to get to. She turned to the door, but did not proceed. She recalled the apparition that had occupied it a few hours ago. Another cleansing breathe, and thought was gone. Myers strode to the door with purpose. It opened with a clunk and a hiss, receding into the wall as if to avoid the determined Sergeant. Myers emerged into the corridor. Stopping in the middle of the rectangular hall way, she glanced down at the floor, and smiled. How foolish must I be to let dream terrorise me, she thought. Me, an Arm warrior. She allowed her self a little chuckle before raising her head and turning left. Myers then made her way to the briefing room.
The Sergeant had been walking down the gently curving pathway for several minutes. It had been an uneventful journey thus far. She had met no other warriors on her travels, and had had only the electrical hum of the lights for company as she walked. The combination of this sombre song and the soft yellowish glow of the artificial light on the smooth bulk heads ahead were having a slightly hypnotic effect on Myers, causing her eye lids to become a great burden. However, she was soon torn from the brink of unconsciousness by a peculiar sound, a rhythmic clank of metal on metal. As the sound ricocheted between the walls of the corridor, Myers found it hard to localise its source. She stopped walking, and turned her slowly from side to side, like a radar tower zeroing in on an incoming aircraft. Scanning through another one hundred and eighty degrees, her search ended suddenly as she paused, casting a puzzled expression in the direction she had originally been travelling. The sound was fading. If she was to catch it she would have to move fast. Myers paced quickly on down the empty corridor. Her heart began to race as the walk turned into a jog. On she went, faster and faster. All her senses were heightening. The hum of the lights had become monotonous chorus, almost drowning out the beating of Myers boots on the deck plates, but not the mysterious footsteps ahead. They still resounded with perfect clarity. The jog evolved into a sprint. Myres panted, grinding her teeth as she struggled to catch the disembodied sound. Rounding the curved hall she came to a T-junction, and halted with a shallow gasp. All she saw was an ankle and a foot withdraw behind the wall. The unmistakable appendage of a Core droid body. Myres did not hesitate a second longer. She bolted for the turn in the hallway, withdrawing her sidearm simultaneously. The Sergeant ran as hard as her near petrified muscles would allow. Finally she reached the turn and stopped, her boots screeching on metallic ground as spun to face her adversary.
"Hold it!" she screamed at the receding figure. It turned to face her, but Myers did not pull the trigger. "Commander?" She said softly, in a tone of total bemusement.
"Sergeant, what the hell are doing?" Clarke said, staring a hole in the disoriented Sergeant Myers.
"I don't know." she panted, "I thought I saw..." Then the whistling began. Myres reached for her head and grunted. This time it was painful.
"Sergeant, are you alright?" Clarke asked, her outrage turning to concern.
"Yes." Myers replied as the whistling faded, "Yes I'm fine. I guess I just didn't get much sleep last night."
"Hmm." Clarke was sceptical of her soldiers self-diagnosis, "Maybe you should skip the meeting and go see the medic."
"No commander, really, I'm fine." Myers reassured her superior as she struggled to catch her breath, "I'm just a little jumpy this morning." Clarke gave a quiet growl. She was reluctant to allow Myers to attend the meeting in her state, but as the only metallurgy specialist on the mission she would be sorely missed.
"Okay." Clarke conceded. "But at the first sign of trouble you're out of there."
"I'm sure I'll be alright." Myres reiterated. But as she did, she couldn't but feel she was lying.