Rude awakening

Posted on 03 Sep 2025 @ 9:52pm by Lieutenant JG Dylan McConnor & Lieutenant JG Thalla zh'Ennev MD & Ensign Emilie D'Astous & Lieutenant Commander Stovek

1,115 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: The Festival of Unity
Location: McConnor's Cabin
Timeline: Concurrent with The Storm

Seldom had Dylan's stamina been put to the test so much as with Stovek. The young human's nearly insatiable drive seemed to have met its match with the Vulcan. After the beach party, they had returned to Dylan's cabin, and quickly shed their textile barriers again. Now they lay asleep in a tangle of arms and legs, a thin layer of sweat covering their skin.

Dylan stirred awake, ready for another round. He disentangled himself from Stovek and began caressing the Vulcan's chest, his kisses traveling down the Vulcan's body until -

Something struck the window violently, causing the glass to crack. It was then that Dylan took notice of the sounds of the wind howling around the cabin, and the rain that was pelleting the windows. The glass door shattered, showering them with fragments and instantly soaking them with rain that was entirely too cold for this climate.

The pointed nature and structure of the Vulcan hearing canals granted them not only an amplifying effect, but sensitivity to a wider range of frequencies than most humanoid cultures. Despite his light fatigue from the extracurricular activities he had been enjoying with Dylan, Stovek was awake and alert nearly a full minute before the door crashed open. He had not shown any outward signs to his companion that he was waking, however; the young Human seemed to enjoy rousing Stovek from slumber, and he was not going to deny him that experience. Following the shower of freezing water and polyglass shards, both of them had moved quickly to make themselves decent.

“Are you injured?” inquired Stovek as he reached for his black tank top. He shook the garment briefly, making certain that there were no dangerous shards.

Dylan rolled off the bed, landing on his elbows and trying to cover his head from any debris. He quickly reached for whatever clothes happened to be lying on the floor next to the bed - which turned out to be that hot red thong that Stovek had seemed to... Logically appreciate. He squirmed into them as he got to his feet. "No," he said in response to Stovek's question, raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind. "You?"

Before the Vulcan had a chance to answer, there was a terrible roaring sound, even louder than the wind that was shaking the cabin like a shoebox. The ceiling was ripped clean off, showering them with debris and exposing them to the wind and the rain.

Dylan ran to the door and grabbed the doorknob. As soon as he cracked it open, the door was ripped from its hinges and flew out over the ocean, taking Dylan with it. His shoulder screamed in pain as it was almost torn from its socket - not that he had a chance to realize it. Pure reflex caused him to hold on to the door. He had to fight the reflex to let go of the door, dropping into the ocean.

His mind screamed alarms at him. Riptide! Riptide! was all he could think, as he knew here was a real danger in such conditions of a riptide carrying him away from the shore, several kilometers away in four-meter-high waves, where he would most likely drown. It was pure luck though that caused him to land at the top of a cresting wave, which threw him forty meters inland. He hit the trunk of a tree, which would have been standing proudly upright were it not for the storm, but which was now tilted at a twenty-degree angle from the ground.

He hit the jungle floor with a thud, his head impacting against a rock. The world blurred and faded to black.

He awoke sometime later to the ound of the waves gently crashing on the shore, the twin suns rising and casting their warm rays on his bare skin. Or at least what little of his skin was exposed, since he was lying under a thick layer of fallen leaves and branches. He groaned, and tried to sit up. His head throbbed from where he had hit the rock. He felt the back of his skull. His hair was coarse and thick from the sand and the salt of the sea, and he winced as his fingers probed a painful spot on his skull. His fingers came away with dried blood.

He got to his feet, and looked around. Survivors were walking aimlessly around the beach, searching for loved ones, surveying the situation or trying to get their bearings. About fifty meters away, a makeshift camp had been set up, and he could see the Cygnus's medical staff taking care of the wounded.

He heard the whine of a shuttle's engines suddenly approaching. He looked up and saw it land thirty meters away from him. Émilie stepped out, and she was soon joined by the First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Bast. But... What was the First Officer wearing? He seemed to be wearing even less than Dylan himself, if such a thing was possible. But he was definitely wearing something. There was a sheen to his body that wasn't bare skin.

The First Officer exchanged words with Émilie before boarding the shuttle. He emerged a minute later dressed in a crisp and fresh uniform. He spoke again with Émilie, and was soon on his way.

"Dylan!" called out Émilie, spotting him as he slowly approached. "Are you... Whoa! I guess it really is raining men," she quipped, taking in his appearance.

"Shut up," he said, leaning against the shuttle aas the world suddenly seemed to spin around him.

Émilie made a circle with her thumb and index, and let out a sharp whistle to attract a medical officer's attention. Thalla turned her head in their direction, and Émilie waved her over.

The Andorian doctor came at a quick jog, carrying her medical tricorder and a hypospray. She ran the device over Dylan.

"You have a mild concussion," she said. She pressed the hypospray to Dylan's neck. "This should help. Try to take it easy."

And with that, she jogged away, returning to help the civilian population.

Émilie stepped back out of the shuttle and handed Dylan a fresh uniform. She held his elbow to steady him as he changed, and relayed the First Officer's orders.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," replied Dylan. "Any word on Stovek?"

Émilie shook her head. "I just got here. I have no idea."

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A post by

Lt JG Dylan McConnor
Engineer, USS Cygnus

And

Lt Cmdr Stovek
Chief of Operations, USS Cygnus

And

Ensign Émilie D'Astous
Helm Officer, USS Cygnus

And

Dr Thalla zh'Ennev
Medical Officer, USS Cygnus

 

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