Beg, Steal or Borrow – Panic...
by Lieutenant JG Petro
Post Details
ON:
It never failed to amaze her how panic could travel faster than the spoken word. As she attempted to make her way down the hallways and corridors of the residences on the station, Petro found more and more people looking for a reason to do exactly the opposite of what was best for them.
"We're not staying trapped." One woman shouted at her.
"We're not going down without a fight." A man yelled.
"We've done nothing wrong." Another woman pleaded.
On and on it went, throughout the station. People clammering and clawing their way through crowds of people. Some angry, some defiant and some scared. Fear manifested itself differently in everyone but when you had such a large group of people ready to stampede, there was only one thing you could do. Try to stay out of its way.
Petro did her best to heed that thought, though it wasn't something that allowed itself to be easily done. She searched for pockets that she could escape to as she moved through the crowds and the levels, much the way a rock climber would look for their next grip point. That was all she had, really, the next grip point. It was more than she could say for the residents.
"Everyone, please remain calm." Petro tried to shout but her words were lost in the noise. "Please return to your quarters. You'll be safer there."
Her voice went unheard but the sight of her didn't. What people saw, exactly, she couldn't tell. What they did, however, was all too obvious. Perhaps they thought she was one of the Romulans coming to attack them. Perhaps they saw her as some kind of threat. It could be that they just got tired of having nothing to attack and with all the adrenaline flowing through them, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
She barely felt the first object that hit her in the back of the head but she could clearly see the stars that flashed before her eyes. Her head began to move left, then right, back then forward as her body seemed to move in the opposite directions. The crowd began moving towards her, then away from her. She climbed onto an outer rail, trying to get above the crowd.
"People." she croaked, her voice dry and cracked. "People, please calm yourselves."
It was too late for that. Some of the floors people were cooperative enough to do the right thing but on others, they were not so cordial. Some were out for blood before the bloodbath began. She remembered hearing someone say something to that effect when she first arrived. She had moved from deck to deck, trying to get everyone to their quarters and make a notation of what they would need. At the same time, she was coordinating her efforts with the logistics crews in order to maintain a count of every missile and shot that would be fired in the near future.
Now she wasn't sure what deck she was on or which direction she was heading in. All she knew was that these individuals, and she couldn't tell if they were civilians or soldiers or Starfleet or what, were doing everything except what they should be doing.
She heard something in the distance, a loud something. A bang of some sort. The crowd quieted down, looking in the direction of the noise maker. Petro turned too though it was a bit of a twist and too much of one. Her foot slipped and she fell from the rail. She grasped the pole with her hand, feeling her shoulder jerk out of its socket, and tried to pull herself up.
Using her good arm, and as much of her body as she could, Petro managed to climb over the rail and fall to the floor. The crowd had dispersed, presumably afraid of whatever it was that made the ruckus. Her head ached and she could smell blood. Her shoulder burned as though it were on fire but she didn't have time to worry about that right now. There was work to be done.
OFF:
Warrant Officer Petro
Quartermaster
DS5
by Lieutenant JG Petro
Post Details
| Title | Panic... | |
| Mission | Beg, Steal or Borrow | |
| Author(s) | Lieutenant JG Petro | |
| Posted | Mon Mar 30, 2009 @ 8:48am | |
| Location | Decks 151-181 | |
| Timeline | SD8 1350 hrs |
It never failed to amaze her how panic could travel faster than the spoken word. As she attempted to make her way down the hallways and corridors of the residences on the station, Petro found more and more people looking for a reason to do exactly the opposite of what was best for them.
"We're not staying trapped." One woman shouted at her.
"We're not going down without a fight." A man yelled.
"We've done nothing wrong." Another woman pleaded.
On and on it went, throughout the station. People clammering and clawing their way through crowds of people. Some angry, some defiant and some scared. Fear manifested itself differently in everyone but when you had such a large group of people ready to stampede, there was only one thing you could do. Try to stay out of its way.
Petro did her best to heed that thought, though it wasn't something that allowed itself to be easily done. She searched for pockets that she could escape to as she moved through the crowds and the levels, much the way a rock climber would look for their next grip point. That was all she had, really, the next grip point. It was more than she could say for the residents.
"Everyone, please remain calm." Petro tried to shout but her words were lost in the noise. "Please return to your quarters. You'll be safer there."
Her voice went unheard but the sight of her didn't. What people saw, exactly, she couldn't tell. What they did, however, was all too obvious. Perhaps they thought she was one of the Romulans coming to attack them. Perhaps they saw her as some kind of threat. It could be that they just got tired of having nothing to attack and with all the adrenaline flowing through them, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
She barely felt the first object that hit her in the back of the head but she could clearly see the stars that flashed before her eyes. Her head began to move left, then right, back then forward as her body seemed to move in the opposite directions. The crowd began moving towards her, then away from her. She climbed onto an outer rail, trying to get above the crowd.
"People." she croaked, her voice dry and cracked. "People, please calm yourselves."
It was too late for that. Some of the floors people were cooperative enough to do the right thing but on others, they were not so cordial. Some were out for blood before the bloodbath began. She remembered hearing someone say something to that effect when she first arrived. She had moved from deck to deck, trying to get everyone to their quarters and make a notation of what they would need. At the same time, she was coordinating her efforts with the logistics crews in order to maintain a count of every missile and shot that would be fired in the near future.
Now she wasn't sure what deck she was on or which direction she was heading in. All she knew was that these individuals, and she couldn't tell if they were civilians or soldiers or Starfleet or what, were doing everything except what they should be doing.
She heard something in the distance, a loud something. A bang of some sort. The crowd quieted down, looking in the direction of the noise maker. Petro turned too though it was a bit of a twist and too much of one. Her foot slipped and she fell from the rail. She grasped the pole with her hand, feeling her shoulder jerk out of its socket, and tried to pull herself up.
Using her good arm, and as much of her body as she could, Petro managed to climb over the rail and fall to the floor. The crowd had dispersed, presumably afraid of whatever it was that made the ruckus. Her head ached and she could smell blood. Her shoulder burned as though it were on fire but she didn't have time to worry about that right now. There was work to be done.
OFF:
Warrant Officer Petro
Quartermaster
DS5