Personal Log - Andrea Levine and Schlompi - Consequences, Part I - Earth XIII

Posted on Wed Sep 17th, 2014 @ 1:31am by Danielle Atarah

840 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?
Location: Earth

Andrea sipped from her cup and held it tight, curling her feet on top of the sofa and pulling them under the soft blanket, stretching it lightly so it doesn't cover the PADD in her lap. The house was quiet, and will remain quiet for the next couple of hours while everyone were at the park, probably enjoying the lovely day out in the sun. Andrea didn't quite have the privilege of going outside, so she settled on curling up on the sofa, listening to soft Jazz music in the background and reading her novel.

And trying her very best to unwind.

She didn't even hear the scratches on the back door until they got loud, almost like someone was trying to knock but couldn't manage it. It made no sense that someone would, though, especially not through the back door; the only people who dared crossing the one-way forcefield that encapsulated the place were the thugs outside, and they used the front door.

The scratching sounded again, partially obscured behind the trumpet tune of Dizzie Gilespi. Andrea's eyes narrowed. The following scratch took her attention out of her novel and stuck it, firmly, on the back door. She couldn't see it from where she sat, but the noise was getting noticeable. Louder. Desperate.

She put the cup on the table and stretched herself out of the sofa, walking carefully towards the back of the kitchen, looking at the door suspiciously. If anyone was trying to sneak into the house, they were doing a very bad job at it. Still, there was no harm in being careful.

She grabbed a frying pan from the rack and approached the door, peering out of the window, seeing no one. The scratching sound came again, insistent, and so loud Andrea almost yelped. Taking a breath, she opened it slowly with her right hand, holding the frying pan ready in her dominant left.

A ball of wet fur barged through the crack in the door and ran past her, whooshing by like a furry rocket with sharp nails that tapped on the floor like raindrops.

Andrea did yelp then. "Schlompi! You scared me. What are you--" the rat popped up from the livingroom and darted to the stairs, trying to climb. He wobbled painfully on one stair and then paused, sniffed, and looked around, finally looking at Andrea. His tail bobbing nervously sideways.

"Oh my god, Schlompi, you're all... bloody," the frying pan was forgotten on the floor as Andrea approached the rat carefully, reaching to examine his fur, her mind lagging behind, refusing to acknowledge what this image meant.

"Bloody.." she repeated, and then paled, picking Schlompi up gently. "Where's Anne? Where are the kids? What... happened?" She asked as if the rat could just opened its little mouth and speak up, give her an explanation that will make any sort of sense. Any explanation except for... for the...

"Oh, god," She put the rat down and took a breath, looking at the livingroom window, a direction that marked the "outside", the "there". The "danger".

The rat shifted nervously, his injured paw tucked close to his belly, his nose sniffing around, looking for his little mistress desperately. She wasn't here. No one was here, except for Andrea. He looked up at her and barked, and Andrea, startled for a moment, could have sworn he said Anne's name.

She put him down on the floor. "Where is Anne, Schlompi? Where are the kids?"

The rat jumped in place and raced through the living room to the front door. Andrea followed. Schlompi stopped at the door and stared at it, then back at Andrea, then at the door again. Outside. They're outside. Somewhere outside, and Schlompi is bloody and injured and--

Andrea's brain stopped working coherently. Rationality died without time to make its protest, vacating itself to the violent takeover of panic, fear, and determination.

She raced up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door open, jumping up to get the small lock box from the top cabinet and tapped the combination into it. Its latch opened, and Andrea threw it on the bed and took out the object inside.

Rochelle's gun. It was already loaded, its safety on, and Andrea's fingers, moving on their own accord and without conscious thought, picked up the rest of the loose bullets and shoved them into her short pants pockets. The gun followed into the other pocket, but its muzzle stuck, refusing to go fully in. She didn't have time to fight it. Holding it firmly in her hand, Andrea raced down the stairs towards the exit.

She didn't bother putting shoes on, or getting properly dressed, or thinking about consequences to what she was going to do -- what she had to do. What she must.

She was going to get her children, and only the devil himself could stop her.

At the door, Schlompi barked

* * *

Commodore Andrea Levine
Professor, Starfleet Academy
Dean of Astrophysics
Tenured Researcher, R&D, Starfleet Command
Federation-controlled Earth

&

Schlompi
The brave Andorian Rat

 

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