Chapter Eight
"Good Intentions, But Ill-Made Plans, Pt 3"
My lady, dear lady,
Breath of the Sea,
Witch of the Wind,
Come, come, come to me,
I promised my lover,
That one out so far
We won't be gone long,
Save glory or mar,
So hear, hear, hear this our song,
My lady, dear lady,
Queen of the Stars,
Keep this our ship
From the greatest of harm,
We offer our bones
For you to guide,
Rather than divide,
My lady, dear lady,
Don't leave us lone
Dear, dear, dear lady of stars,
Hear, hear, hear this our song,
Steer us towards home,
And if not our home,
Don't let us roam
Xeufian Starship
X.Y.S.S. Benbow
3rd Generation Exploration Class
Dear dear - hiccup - lady…lady of-of- the - hiccup - sea," Ger'on chanted, zigging zagging through the Benbow's corridors, swirling here and there as if dancing with someone, slopping the contents of his mug so much there was a trail of foam following him.
Walking back to quarters drunk, after an evening of eating, drinking, exalting, was a common ritual aboard the Benbow. The night crew was skeletal and mostly in case of dire emergencies (such as the few electrical fires that had erupted across the decks before Kestra had taken command of operational repairs), but that didn't mean that they hadn't also drunken themselves silly over the last several hours along with everyone else. There was no way to tell what time it was - the ship had very valiantly sung it's heart out and those who hadn't already made it to their bunks were sleeping it off in the commissary, sprawled across the floor and benches Thad dreaded cleaning every day.
Ger'on was typically someone who drank everyone else under the table and he took great pride in that fact, but he'd enjoyed himself immensely singing an album of shanties and coating his dry throat with whatever mug was closest. He'd hugged and kissed and danced for the first time it what seemed like forever. The only problem he'd faced the whole night was just the fact that he wasn't drunk enough to allow himself to sleep in the same place he'd eaten.
But in his efforts to stumble back through the dim, barren halls for his pillow and some aspirin, he did what no crew member on the Benbow ever wanted to do - he caught a glimpse of his X.O. standing alone in the very direction he needed to go. Rather than run into the cruel bastard and be annoyed right before bed, the sailor propped himself against a wall, content to wait until Merv was well out of eye- and earshot.
"There you are," Merv hissed, making the sailor's eyes flash open in unexpected horror.
Had he been found?
"Ya make it soun' like I wassit where I said I would be," Galena replied, as equally annoyed with the X.O. as the sailor would've been had he run into Merv.
"Have ya got it yet?"
"Is only been three weeks, Merv. Chill yer ches', man. We've plen'y o' time."
"If it takes six months we won't!" Merv hissed insistently. "All those repairs that damn girl is making… There won't be another ship to be had in Federation space! We have to take it now!"
Galena scoffed.
Sobered a little by the conversation, the sailor was intent enough to hear something slam at the other end of the hall. He peeked around the corner just enough to see that Merv had grabbed Galena's vest and pushed him against the wall. "You're wasting time! Stop coddling the boy and get the map!"
Barely allowing Merv time to completely pin him, Galena smacked Merv's arms away and shoved him back. "Don'...Don' touch me again."
He limped forward, his prosthetic leg stomping with every step while the other foot wad eerily soft. He pressed himself uncomfortably into Merv's space until their faces were only a few inches apart.
"I'm da captain 'ere. You do...wha' I tell you to do. Not da o'er way 'round. You'd do well ta remember dat."
After a bitter amount of time passed, Galena finally leaned away and limped off.
Merv pounded his fist in the wall paneling with a snarl. His other hand slid instinctively to the sword at his waist, no doubt imagining the several different ways he could use it to kill Galena.
Eventually, Merv left and the sailor was able to get to bed. In the morning, he clearly remembered the exchange and made sure to keep close to his friends.
Friends who were suddenly whispering old myths about soul-eaters and thought-stealers.
It's a fact of life that the biggest incidents start as a consequence of the smallest happenings.
It had been almost three months since the Benbow had left Xeuf and the V'na Tairum port for Betazed. Everyone had become comfortable with the day-to-day activity in which they all participated. In the evenings, once everyone had eaten and sometimes even while people were eating, a few sketches were put on and Carmen occasionally sang a bit, rousing everyone to recite a collection of star shanties. When there was no entertainment, the ship amused themselves with competitions and athletic events, their favorite of which included racing the length of the ship (something that was more of an obstacle course than a footrace) and taking apart and then reassembling variously styled weapons.
Smoll let her guard down a little and began to interact with the crew. She'd begun to look in on the waifs daily, at which point she both inquired about their general tasks and welfare as well as sought their opinions on the voyage. They were smart, and the ones who'd commissioned the trip after all; and once Smoll had gotten over her frustration with the whole situation, she transitioned back into the more approachable and good-natured individual that the waifs remembered from back in Conqourd.
The children, in turn, began to let their guards down too. The fact that Smoll had acclimated to the crew spoke volumes to them, since she had been the person to originally bring up her misgivings about the motley ensemble. Simon was the one who relaxed the least, but he did try very hard not to eavesdrop on the thoughts of the crew (even if he did hear the occasional statement) and worked on trying to trust them by their actions - as Thad had - and not their thoughts. He accepted that he would be weary, mostly because he understood that plots naturally developed cerebrally, and he took comfort in the fact that should the wind ever change against them, Carmen would immediately notice.
Thad, on the other hand, relaxed the most, developing a closer friendship with Galena than he had ever before with anyone else. Galena was not Simon or the girls and could never fathom the connection the waifs would always have with each other, but Thad found the semi-bionic man filling the gaping hole that both Lee and his parents had left behind. The wound in his heart was fresh (it had never completely healed after Shankar, but Lee's sudden death had deepened it, scrapping the chasm raw) yet the more and more time he spent with Galena, a man unlike any other - who listened to his theories about Aksukia and the dodecahedron with interest, and laughed whole heartedly throughout their day, who squeezed Thad's shoulder and listened when his thoughts and memories turned dark - the more he felt that wound once again beginning to heal.
His siblings were comforted by the fact that he could relax, as Thad was generally the one who willingly carried the bigger part of their shared burden. It helped them begin to relax too and once again enjoy the time that they had. In this period, they even began to imagine - something they'd originally forbidden themselves from ever doing - what life would be like on Betazed, with people who remembered them or their parents, people who were gentle and kind, and a world that wasn't constantly threatening them.
Then, Kestra happened to accidentally cut herself.
It was the kind of cut that had happened to millions of other engineers, construction workers, and mechanics over thousands of years. It happened to be on her forearm, it happened to be long, and it happened to go right through her sleeve. So, like she had once or twice before, she thoughtlessly pulled the remains of the sleeve up to examine the wound, and thoughtlessly displayed her Ankarian brand to the entire room.
A Greek beta and an othila rune.
The Ankarian number for one-hundred-and-forty-seven.
Then she thoughtlessly got up, told the crewman next to her that she would be back in a little while, and thoughtlessly went off to find Carmen.
"What happened?" was the first thing her younger sister asked.
"I cut my arm on one of the rods," Kestra groaned, more disappointed then pained. She sat down on the patient's stool.
"Is it deep?"
"Not really,"
"Is it still bleeding?"
"Kinda,"
"Apply pressure with this," Carmen handed her a piece of sterile cloth as she went about her station and collected the things she needed.
"Do you think it'll need stitches?"
"Let me have a look."
Kestra slightly flinched when she felt her sister dive into her mind. It was an innate reaction - like a shiver due to a cold wind - that both her and Thad had whenever Carmen used them as ocular surrogates. It wasn't very often that she did so, but Lee and her older siblings had taught Carmen to use her limited telepathic abilities to her advantage, and she used that advantage primarily when she was practicing medicine.
Together, they looked down at the wound. It took Carmen the usual moment to reorientate her hands, but eventually, she was able to probe and evaluate. "You'll live. It's long, but not deep, which is good. No stitches today." She added, a bit disappointed. Once the bleeding stopped, she began her treatment.
"Did anything else happen?"
Kestra resisted the urge to look up at Carmen and instead focused intensely on the cut so her sister could do her work. "No. Why?"
Carmen hesitated. "Something's changed. I was just about to go looking for you guys when you came in. The crew...their disposition - it suddenly became anxious."
"How do you mean?
"I-" Carmen considered. "Everything was fine one minute and then a lot of people started to get antsy. And now...it's growing." Kestra felt Carmen shift, trying to accommodate that mounting uneasiness that she was sensing. "Maybe the bridge crew noticed something. Or-" Kestra's eyes happened to follow Carmen's hand as she reached for a clean bandage and a roll of gauze. But then the sisters did a double-take when they realized what they saw.
The Ankarian brand.
For weeks the waifs had been constantly wearing long sleeves, sweaters, or jackets not only because of the ship's perpetual coldness but also to hide their brands. People on Xeuf had immediately recognized the tattoos which marked their telepathic heritage and had been disturbed by it. Such knowledge had been a primary reason for their banishment from Conqourd Valley. In the boxcar on their way to V'na Tairum, the siblings had agreed to keep the brands covered to avoid others from growing paranoid or malicious. They'd gone into the port city with cloth wrapped around their wrists and upper arms, but the Benbow's lack of heat had provided an excellent excuse to never expose their arms.
That was, until now.
They both stared at it, frightened into silence.
"Did they see it?" Carmen asked quietly, almost a whisper, though they both already knew the answer.
"I didn't- I didn't think-" Kestra looked up to judge Carmen's expression and flinched again when her sister disconnected from her mind. Carmen did not need to see how she felt. "We don't know if someone did. Like you said, the bridge crew could've noticed something."
But they could hear someone running in the hall and their hearts dropped into the pits of their stomachs.
Simon threw open the door and pushed in urgently, some of his golden hair falling into his eyes. "Get your things,"
Kestra jumped up from her seat even though Carmen had begun to hurriedly apply the bandage and wrap to her wound. "They know?"
"They saw it. They're telling Merv and Galena."
Jeam Merv was not a man to be trifled with. He was a half-blood of some kind, that most people were sure of, but he spoke nothing of his past and found conversation to be one of the many banes of life. The most the waifs had been able to gather about him was that he displayed an alarming amount of sociopathic behavior, he was an expert when it came to weapons, and he was a very sore loser. It was because of his varied failings as a sentient being that he wasn't in charge of the pirate band that had boarded the Benbow. That honor fell on Abby Galena, the more level-headed of his colleagues and Merv's personal nemesis. There was no doubt that the two men didn't get along, that they lived in a very tense cold war, but they had admitted long ago that they weren't nearly as successful without one another. Galena made the plans and Merv executed them - as well as whatever hostages Galena's plans may have accumulated.
It was Merv who burst into the dining hall (where Thad had predicted a hostile would enter from), trailed by four or five other members of their pirate band while Galena and Thad were working in the adjoining kitchen.
"Wha' da hell's goin' on out dere?" Galena immediately demanded, pushing Thad ahead of him so that he could squeeze out from behind the counters without interference. "Merv - wha' da ya think ya doin', man?"
Without explanation, Merv reached out for Thad's throat, but the young man had recognized the signs of a mob quicker than his companion and had instinctually become defensive. He effortlessly pushed Merv's hand away, leveraging the man's momentum to twist his arm, draw his rapier, and push him back to an appropriate distance. It happened so fast, the crewmen who'd followed Merv in barely recognized what happened and Galena suddenly knew why Thad was so good with a knife.
"Stay back!" Thad ordered, leveling the needle-like sword at the pirate's heart.
He growled. "You don't tell me what to do, you spying swine! Give me back my sword!"
"Wha' da hell are you talkin' about?" Galena boomed, growing as weary as ever with Merv's antics. He set his hand down on Thad's shoulder, which made the boy jump. "Thad, wha's goin' on?"
Thad hesitated, unwilling to lose what he had with Galena.
"He's a damned telepath! They all are!" Merv shouted. "They've been stealing our thoughts! Controlling us!"
"No! It's not like that!" Thad cried out, trying to dissuade them, calm everyone down and banish the tall tales, but the crowd cheered.
"Der gonna take the ship! Don' let 'em take the ship!"
"They change our dreams! Change 'em to nightmares! They're gonna drive us mad!"
"We'll be their slaves!"
"We con' let 'em stay! We 'ave ta kill 'em!"
The crew cheered again in agreement.
Galena's shoulders fell, disappointed in Merv's distributive antics. "Awk, dunna be so squirmish. I'm sure dey've got betta things ta do then listen ta yer porn-o-graph-ic thoughts!"
"I won't have it! The men won't have it! We kill them now - or we kill you too." Merv glared ferociously at Galena.
"If anyone's going to die today, it's going to be you, Merv," Thad threatened, his insides solidifying with resilience and determination.
"We'll see 'bout that,"
Merv lunged for the nearest sword and raised it just in time to clash with Thad.
The first thing the waifs did upon boarding the Benbow, before they even settled in, was organize an escape plan.
Animlegerophobia was rampant across the remote sections of the Gamma Quadrant - something Lee had recognized quickly during his time there, mostly due to myths and legends, though there were no actual telepaths amongst the different cultures he encountered. He had been comfortable bringing the children back to Conqourd (one of the aforementioned cultures) knowing that while the townspeople would recognize the mark of the Piezite, they wouldn't understand the meaning behind the Ankarian brand. There had been a fair amount of similarly marked people around Xeuf and the surrounding planets over the years, sold to the Piezites much like the waifs, but they were as inclined to share their abilities or heritage as the Reygas.
Still, enough people in the area meant that, sooner or later, someone would come to recognize the brand's meaning, and once someone in Conqourd did, Lee had pushed evasive and surveillance tactics upon the children incessantly. Such practices were something he'd already begun to teach them by then - recognizing surrounding exits, potential hazards, the entrance or area from which an assailant would most likely come, and the best way to combat or avoid incoming trouble - but it had been a matter of precaution before, in case of brawls or gang fights, whereas it was now a matter of life and death. Lee had enough influence across the Valley to deter anything too severe from happening, yet there had been occasions when the children had had to disappear into thin air because of the rising tensions approaching.
To say that the waifs were paranoid would be a little bit correct.
To say that they were always prepared would also be correct.
Thus, they laid out the following plan:
On a starship, the only way off a ship was an escape pod. The few that there were on the Benbow were two decks below the waifs' quarters. The quickest way to them was to take the turbolift down, exit left, and fill the first pod on the right. But, in the event of an attack (whether internal or external), the turbolift wasn't necessarily an option.
That left the maintenance tubes and deck ladders at port and starboard. It would take three minutes longer to get to one of the ladders, another two to climb down, and then one more minute to get to the nearest pod. It was more time than they liked - too much when someone was in peril, but it was what they had available to them.
When they'd laid this strategy out, there was one thing they hadn't planned on, however - being separated. Theoretically, their plan depended on them being all together, bundled in their quarters, ignoring everyone else. Instead, it took an extra ten minutes alone for Simon to get the girls. Then six to get back to the quarters, get their things, and head back out to look for Thad.
All in all, their escape plan wasn't going so well.
Especially given that, rather than retreating, they were heading towards the chaos.
That's ENOUGH!" Galena ordered, slashing another pirate's sword into the middle of Merv and Thad's fight, pulling the latter away by the collar of his shirt and kicking his second in the shin. "Y'all listen ta me, ya hear?"
The group silenced.
"Blow 'em out the airlock," Merv growled, spitting down on Thad's shoes.
The young man rustled forward, but Galena jerked him back. "Wha' did I jus' say? Dere will be none of dis! No more! Y'all got dat? I dunna care wha' dese kids can or canna do with their minds, 'cept as it gets us to Aksukia!"
The pirates cheered at the mention of their impending treasure.
"But they won' get us dere if ya go 'bout killin' 'em!"
Merv only shook his head.
"Got somet'in' ta share, Merv?" Galena glared darkly at the man, still holding tightly onto Thad's shirt.
Merv raised his eyes to meet Galena's, demon-on-demon. "You've gotten soft, old man."
"Ya wanna put dat ta da test, eh?" Galena raised the sword he'd taken.
A series of stomps came from the stairs as more people plowed into the commissary. "We've got the engine!" One of the newcomers shouted.
Thad's heart skipped a beat, his eyes dropping in the direction of Engineering. "Kestra,"
Galena's eyes flashed from the announcer to Merv, his fury dissolving into shock. "Wha've ya done?"
"The crew won't stand for their thoughts being stolen!" Merv answered, the corners of his lips twitching up into a sinister smile. "I've sent parties to take the bridge and engine rooms."
"We dunna have the map!" Galena seethed.
"And whose fault is that?" Merv barked like a dog. "We've spent a year trying to get to Aksukia and the moment we find someone who can actually read the map, ya coddle him like a babe!"
Thad took a step forward, Galena's grasp having fallen. "If it was easy, you'd be able to do it, Merv."
"I would, but ya see, Mista Galena is quite popular for cutting all loose ends and I very much like my heart abeatin'."
Thad's stomach twisted and his heart fell. Galena was behind him, just over his shoulder. The young man tightened his hold on on the rapier, preparing himself - if he could kill Galena, he didn't know. It was more likely that Galena would be able to fulfill his plans then and there with a quick strike to the back. "You were going to kill me?"
Galena didn't answer, making Merv chuckle. "It doesn't much matter now." Merv raised his blade and leveled it at Thad's throat. "A stab to the back is just as effective as one to the front.
"What say the crew?" Merv sneered, his smile continuing to grow.
While Merv had gone to confront Galena and Thad, he'd sent another group to the bridge. For negotiations or to usurp Smoll, he did not care. His only order was to get the captain's attention - by any means necessary.
To brutes, the best way to get attention is violence.
The bridge was quickly turned into a fighting ring.
Smoll slapped her hand down on her chair panel. "CRITICAL ALERT! MUTINY! MUTINY ABOARD!"
"Get over here!" One of the pirates dragged her away from the computer by her ankle, knocking her head against the steps of her captain's chair. Ignoring the blurriness that filled her eyes, she rolled herself around and slammed the inside of her foot against the side of the pirate's head, sending him flying into the floor.
Smoll pulled one of the many hidden phasers she kept throughout the ship from underneath her chair and fired on the two remaining pirates struggling with her X.O. and operations officer. She didn't care that she'd shot them in the back - there was no such thing as sympathy for mutineers. Especially those who revolted without cause.
"You all right, Commander Orrah?" She asked, wiping the blood off her cheek.
"Fine, Captain." The large man scrambled to his station and reviewed the alerts coming in from across the Benbow. "Reports of mutiny across the ship. The engineering room has been locked down and disconnected from the shipwide network. If they'd taken the bridge, they'd have control of the entire operation, Captain."
Smoll stepped up to one of the first pirates to be downed by the bridge entrance. Orrah had shot her almost immediately, but despite the searing chest wound occupying what had been her right breast, she was still breathing. Wheezing, dying slowly, but still breathing.
"Why have you done this? Who's your leader?" The captain demanded.
The pirate grounded her teeth, glaring at Smoll as best she could with what little consciousness she had. "You...broug'...spies. Mon...strocities!" She coughed up blood and her deterioration took a rapid turn. "Steal...thoughts…"
"What's that supposed to mean?" The Benbow's pilot looked between the captain and first officer, confused.
He might not have known and neither did Orrah, but Smoll's heart gave an unsteady beat. "You have the con, Mr. Orrah! Try to get control of this damn ship!" She ordered as she sprinted off the bridge.
Shit," Simon hissed, picking Carmen up by her elbow after she'd tripped over one of the many troublesome floor panels. He'd stumbled over Hercules, but he couldn't slow down despite the two bags falling from his shoulders to his elbows. A few people rushed past them; no one questioned why they seemed to be carrying everything they owned, or why they were heavily armed.
The ship was in chaos.
There wasn't any time for questions.
Those that weren't mutining were running for their lives same as the trio, searching for safety at the very least, or a group of other non-mutineers to band with at the most. Simon had readily admitted to his siblings a week or two into their journey that he might've exaggerated - not everyone was a pirate, but that didn't change the fact that a better portion of the crew were. So though Simon would feel bad for not being able help those poor souls later on, he only had one priority - protecting the family.
That was becoming increasingly difficult, though, as a large group of screaming, heavy-object-yielding people suddenly appeared ahead of them and began to charge.
Kestra screamed when they abruptly turned and found another group coming up on their rear.
Trapped and outnumbered, Simon raised his hands imploringly. "Wait! Wait! Listen to me!"
"Give me thoughts back!" Some of them screamed.
"It's not like that!"
"Kill 'em!" Others cried.
"Don't let them take the ship!"
Reacting more than thinking, Carmen ripped herself away from Simon a fair distance and raised her cane above her head - "Cover your eyes!" - before slamming it into the floor.
The bottom of the walking cane erupted in an incredible flash of light that turned potentially everything within a twenty-five yard radius white for a single, disorientating moment.
Kestra pulled Simon into the wall and wrapped her arms around their heads to shield them from the blast. She'd only ever tested the starburst with goggles on and that had blinded her for a moment, much as she was now.
Carmen was unaffected. As soon as Kestra's recommended ten seconds had past, she turned towards the nearest group of mutineers, letting her cane slip through her hand until she held it firmly in the middle.
Then she tapped it - Once. Twice. - against the floor, heralding her arrival.
They couldn't see her any more than she could see them, but she wanted them to know she was coming despite the fact that she was taking absolute advantage of her assailants' confusion. Carmen raised her cane (a collapsible stick a few inches shorter than herself, made of a light, but solid metallic alloy) and brought it down on the pirate closest to her.
Carmen had adapted to her blindness long before her empathic abilities began to manifest during her early adolescent years. She had been forced to fight and develop a near constant state of spatial awareness that left her always on edge, even threadborne because of the vigilance required in the constantly threatening worlds she'd grown up in. As her abilities flourished, though, that spatial awareness began to increase to the point of delicate sensitivity. She couldn't see the people around her, but she could feel them, even from a distance - where their soul (that's the only word she could appropriately use to describe it) expanded and then diverged from the rest of the world. Thus, she could tell the difference between a hand, a foot, and a head, but only because the souls of the individuals she sensed occupied those spaces.
It was like chasing ghosts in the dark, she once explained to Lee. Things you can't see but know are there.
So he taught her how to meditate, to self-soothe, how to dampen that sensitivity until it became a liveable condition.
He also taught her how to fight using her abilities.
"You won't be able to tell what kind of weapons they may be holding, but you'll be able to sense the kind of offense they intend to use," Lee told her, circling her quietly in the dirt field behind the Conqourd house. "Where are my hands?"
"By your sides,"
"Can you see that?"
"No,"
"But you can sense it?"
Carmen hesitated. What was it that she was really sensing? She'd only just begun to notice the splices of souls surrounding her. She'd felt Thad's arms rise and fall as he swung the ax and chopped wood. She'd noticed Lee lurking on the porch, watching them as they settled down for the evening, but did not hear his footsteps or breaths. How was this any different from what she'd been doing for the last six years?
"Don't second guess yourself," Lee snapped. "Do you sense it?"
She felt something fly towards her, as tingingly as electricity, and she scrambled away from it before it could snatch her ear.
"What was that?"
"My hand." Something else swept towards her and could feel it retreat towards a more potent source of the sensation. "My leg. Where are my hands now?"
Carmen considered, trying to distinguish the energy she felt. "Raised,"
"Where?"
"I don't-"
Another river of electricity thrust at her - she could feel it coming straight at her shoulder, pricking her skin the closer it got. She swept at it rather than try to dodge it, completely unaware of what exactly it was that she was going to hit. Pain sprung awake with fiery dullness when her hand made contact with a dense, human limb, like it had hundreds of times before. But this time, it also prickled with the electrical splices of the soul that occupied the limb. Beyond that, Carmen could feel the familiar presence of Lee and was overwhelmed by his confidence and certainty, pieces of solidarity that were anchored in his chest where the second of the most potent electrical sources resided in his body.
His heart.
"You have my arm. Where's my head?"
The energy spooled away from the length Carmen was touching and ventured in all kinds of different directions but did not venture beyond an undeterminable boundary - at least undeterminable by Carmen's empathic sensation. Her hands traced the fence which contained the energy and found it to be Lee's skin. She followed his skin and the strings of energy which it contained, up his shoulder, across his neck, and over his jaw all without completely touching Lee. The strongest source of the energy his body contained rested between his ears. The soft, prickling sensation made goosebumps erupt across Carmen's skin.
"Here,"
The strings of energy pulsed with something that took Carmen a moment to recognize -
Pride.
Carmen wondered if Lee would be proud now that she'd batted down five pirates into the floor of a rusting corridor.
After a moment, Simon and Kestra hurried forward, drawing their swords to help their sister. Outnumbered though they were, the starburst had been effective enough to give the trio an upper hand, minimalizing those pirates who could've clobbered them with brute strength alone.
The ones gone berserk with hysteria were dangerous either way, the fact that they'd been temporarily blinded only mounting their frenzy.
Those few hammered and slashed without rationality, dragging their weapons across the wall, creating sparks until they were downed.
Carmen used their agitation to fuel her adrenaline until it slowly crept up her arms into her mind.
"Stop! Stop!"
Without meaning for it to, their anxiety became hers and sat above her forehead, fogging everything she did until she was swinging in her own frenzy, no longer targeting specific areas of the body to incapacitate but rather batting around like she was searching for a swinging piñata.
" Carmen- Carmen, I got you. It's done. I got you." She heard Kestra suddenly say. Her cane fell on something that wouldn't let it move. "Breathe. It's okay. Just breathe."
There was- there was something on her chest.
Everyone was so scared.
So confused.
They wouldn't stop.
N-nothing was going to stop them-
Stop them from coming in.
HYSTERIA.
It was all hysteria-
BUT IT WASN'T LEAVING HER HEAD!
Kestra pulled Carmen into her chest and held her tightly, trying to pull her out of the monumental amount of emotions raging throughout the ship.
She could hear her little sister's thoughts spiraling out of control until she was nearly as wound up as the people they'd just wacked down. Except her hands had curled into taut fists - her entire body had gone stiff with the amount of emotions invading her mind.
"I can't- I can't-" Carmen gasped, drowning in air.
Simon kept watch of the hall for a moment, praying that Kestra would be able to draw Carmen away from the emotions, to separate herself from everyone else as they were sometimes able to do.
Because they weren't going anywhere until Carmen could walk on her own.
"It's okay. Shh, shh, breathe, breathe," Kestra instructed, trying to keep herself calm for her sister, but her own anxiety mounting. Battle sounds were drawing closer. "Please breathe, Car. Just breathe,"
Out of nowhere, Simon lunged over his sisters to the mouth of the corridor and swung his sword down -
Stopping just above Captain Smoll's neck.
"Shiiiiiiiit!"