Lyta's eyes fluttered open several minutes after her mind had already awoken to the dull headache that throbbed within her skull. There was an intense buzzing sound in her head, like there were thousands upon thousands of bees swarming around in her mind, the vibrating echo of their wings swirling into the dark recesses of her memory.
Forcing herself to sit up, she looked down at her naked, goo-covered body, but seemed oddly comfortable with it. She'd been in a stasis tank before when she'd visited the Vorlon homeworld and they'd sedated her and placed her in suspension so that they could perform their treatments on her. Even the organic nature of her surroundings didn't appear too troubling to her. She was familiar with organic technology and this, while as comfortable or soothing as the Vorlon transports she'd been in, was still not as horrifying as the pure, cold evil that she'd sensed from the Shadow vessels—despite this place's rather disgusting aesthetic.
Standing, she turned around to look at the pod—which she'd just come out of—laying crumpled at her feet before turning her attention to the thousands of more like it that hung in the room from an unseen ceiling. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, Lyta forced herself to ignore the incessant buzzing in her head long enough for her to push outward with her mind, reaching out to one of the nearby pods.
She could sense the life inside of it, but nothing more, nothing that would tell her who was inside it. Gender, age, even species all seemed to be blocked and held outside her reach, leaving her only with the knowledge that someone was inside. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she cast a few furtive glances, looking to see if there were anyone else she couldn't read were in the room, then reached out to touch the pod in front of her hoping that physical contact with it might allow her to break through whatever it was blocking her. Still, nothing.
Who's there? she asked, managing to send a weak telepathic message, not to the occupant of the pod but rather to whatever it was that was blocking her telepathy.
no subject
Forcing herself to sit up, she looked down at her naked, goo-covered body, but seemed oddly comfortable with it. She'd been in a stasis tank before when she'd visited the Vorlon homeworld and they'd sedated her and placed her in suspension so that they could perform their treatments on her. Even the organic nature of her surroundings didn't appear too troubling to her. She was familiar with organic technology and this, while as comfortable or soothing as the Vorlon transports she'd been in, was still not as horrifying as the pure, cold evil that she'd sensed from the Shadow vessels—despite this place's rather disgusting aesthetic.
Standing, she turned around to look at the pod—which she'd just come out of—laying crumpled at her feet before turning her attention to the thousands of more like it that hung in the room from an unseen ceiling. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, Lyta forced herself to ignore the incessant buzzing in her head long enough for her to push outward with her mind, reaching out to one of the nearby pods.
She could sense the life inside of it, but nothing more, nothing that would tell her who was inside it. Gender, age, even species all seemed to be blocked and held outside her reach, leaving her only with the knowledge that someone was inside. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she cast a few furtive glances, looking to see if there were anyone else she couldn't read were in the room, then reached out to touch the pod in front of her hoping that physical contact with it might allow her to break through whatever it was blocking her. Still, nothing.
Who's there? she asked, managing to send a weak telepathic message, not to the occupant of the pod but rather to whatever it was that was blocking her telepathy.