Plain of Sorrows

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: not mine…sob

Rating: PG-13

Author's notes: Two chapters in one night. Yay me! This chapter is a little shorter but I hope it's a good one...


Chapter Seven

He knew he was dreaming. That was what scared him the worst, since he couldn't do anything about it except go along for the ride.

The first thing he noticed was how odd his body felt: stronger, more agile, and he moved with a confidence he'd never had in waking. His clothing was strange, as well: a long robe that swished around his ankles as he walked.

He was in a long corridor, the walls made of some silvery-black material. There were no windows, and instinct told him this was some sort of space vessel. His bare feet caressed thedecking like it was his lover, the metal cold against the soles. His nerves reveled in the briskness; it brought his heightened awareness to the fore, ready to experience anything he would touch.

The ship was familiar to him, in this dream. It frightened him, because in that part of his mind aware of where he actually was he knew he'd never set foot on it before. He strode past closed hatches, strangely shaped buttons glowing in the near darkness. Yes, it was dark; no lights were on overhead, even though he knew there would be panels there that would illuminate the area, if only he would reach out and turn them on. He found he didn't need them: his eyes were acclimatized to the gloom around him. In waking, his night sight had never been that good.

It was utterly silent, so quiet that he could make out his own heartbeat. That was wrong, this ship should have been bustling with activity. Even the engines made some slight sound, a rattling in the deck that had become natural to feel in his very bones. That sensation was gone as well, which told him they were no longer moving under their own power. The main drive had been shut down.

His dreaming self knew why this had happened; yet his sleeping mind wouldn't access that information. Somehow he knew there was a horror connected to that simple act, one that he didn't want to know about. But he was a part of it, that he was sure of. He'd had a hand in what was going on, and in the dream he reveled in that knowledge.

One of the doors ahead of him slid open. He recognized the one who entered the corridor as his best friend and benefactor, the commander of their vessel. He was also the one responsible for what was happening.

In the dream he couldn't make out the face of his friend, yet he knew it as well as he knew his own. "There you are," the commander greeted.

"I take it all is well?"

"Indeed. All is going according to plan. The weak ones are trapped in the observation lounge, waiting for us to arrive."

The weak ones. That was what they'd called their enemies…their prey. Those who had not taken the change when it was offered, preferring to stay themselves. He laughed at them, feeling nothing but contempt.

His friend clapped him on the shoulder. "Come. We're awaited. Our people won't start without us."

They walked together. His dream self was nothing like himself in real life: a predator, doing what was necessary to insure his commander's plans came to fruition. He licked his lips in anticipation, his heartbeat increasing as they neared their objective.

There were others there; others who had accepted the change because of the gifts it would bestow. The self-assurance he was feeling was echoed in those who greeted the pair of them, even though he could make out nothing of their features. There was an easy camaraderie among their group, and he basked in the friendship and loyalty around him.

It was a tremendous high, even while dreaming.

"My friends!" the commander spoke. Everyone turned to listen. "What we have done today will echo throughout our race like thunder! We have become what we were always meant to be: the leaders of our people, the ones who will carry us into the future! I thank every one of you for being with me on this wondrous day. Let us all rejoice in our new-found freedom!"

Everyone cheered. He joined in, feeling the rush of adrenaline as he knew what awaited them. Their people would go out among the stars, bringing their gift of changing with them.

However, first they must confront the weak ones.

His normal self didn't want to see what would happen next, but he was helpless to wake up. His dreaming self, though, knew what was coming and was very much looking forward to it.

There was a large door in front of them. The crowd parted, and the commander walked toward it. He touched one of the buttons on the panel beside the door, and it slid open in near silence…

"Morgan? Morgan, honey, it's time to wake up…"

Morgan Martin lurched up, almost hitting Bess in the chin with his forehead. "Huh?"

She drew back, narrowly avoiding the collision. "Are you all right?" she asked, herface creased in concern.

"Yeah…sure, Bess. Just had a dream…"

She put her arms around him. "Was it a bad one?"

"I…I can't remember…"