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Sweet Child o' Time # 5 - Dreaming in Sickbay[ON] [Starbase Ronin - Main Sickbay] A voice floated into his ear saying, "severe concussion, two broken ribs and broke two vertebras in his lower back." Lieutenant Charles Zorach laid on biobed but his mind was drifting. His fighter welled up into his thoughts. His devil tattoo smiled at him from his left bicep. He peeked at the angel tattoo on his right bicep that floated an inch off his arm. "Please don't give me a sermon about the advantages or disadvantages of serving Starfleet," he stated in his mind. "Delta Angel Five, another bogey has penetrated the no-fly zone. Charlie, I can't reach the bogey in time, can you intercept?" came over the subspace flight channel. "That bogey is on a collision course with the station. Dragonhunter, don't risk it, pal," said the group flight leader. Zorach remembered his old callsign, Dragonhunter, for service against Crimson Dragon pirates and other nefarious fighter craft. "Those were the days," the devil tattoo said. Zorach stared at his fighter controls. His fighter moved like it did on that fateful date. The phaser shots, the reversal of the Dominion fighter, and the collision moved in slow motion like a reel of a mental motion picture film. "Poo! You know what happened next. They grounded you due that medical injury," the angel whispered in his ear. His Vulcan friend, Kokar popped in his mind. "Logic must be practiced. Have you tried to mediate? The cosmos is interconnected on different planes of reality. Space, time, and mentality are connected. Start by quieting yourself. Then allow the cosmos to express." Cleopatra appeared and Zorach smiled. "Now, she is a far better sight than Kokar," he concluded. She faded into a field of stars. "Ahhh, gone again. So beautiful," he thought. He took a deep breath and pain signals shot back across the ether. "Cosmos expressing itself. How silly," Zorach thought. "Mining is good work. Flying around the cosmos, it's not like you. It's a delusion, you know that. Humans just don't connect to the universe in these ways," someone was saying. His father, James Zorach appeared. "Dad, I don't fly anymore. Starfleet needs me. Well, I try to do what I can to help. I don't know everything, Dad." "Charlie, you need to settle down. Find someone to share your life. Be well, son." And his Dad faded away. "Please don't tell me this is the afterlife. Jackie?" Zorach said. The image of Jackie Stoller danced across his field of view wearing a charming and revealing silk outfit. "Humm, this is heaven," Zorach mumbled. Then someone else danced across his field of view wearing nearly nothing at all. "Hey, I think I recognize that officer! Not her. Never mind, this is hell." "So you got blown up. You think the Romulans are going to break the treaty? What paintings did Bokma like?" the devil tattoo said. "Who knows, demon? Who decides to place an explosive charge?" Zorach asked. He rolled the images back in his mind. Before they moved out, there was another person, a female, a Romulan. "Sharp edges on consoles, my eye. She came in with a toolbox and left with the toolbox. If she had something to do with it, why would she act? She didn't seem to have a beef with humans." "What motives most people to violence?" asked the angel. The angel pointed toward the devil. "He does. Violence begets violence. Blood is thicker than water. You have to stop the continuing cycle of violence." "Give me rest. Hell, heaven. Where is my drink?" Zorach appeared in a bar, much like the Ark though he never had a chance to lose himself there. The bartender put down a large glass of a red swirling drink and nodded. Zorach took a big drink and exclaimed, "Now, that's a drink! Who's going to shave me while I'm laid up in sickbay?" "I have the perfect shaving tool for you," a voice said. The voice trailed away into a dark void and Zorach's mind finally rested. OFF: Dream sequences are the hardest. Lt Charles Zorach Chief Intelligence Officer Starbase 47
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