Operation: Pacifica, Second Thoughts
by DarkSide (darkside@seanet.com)

 Pain.

 Unbearable pain. Pain that tore through every fiber of his soul.
  He had felt pain before in his dreams, but this was different... this was...
  more real.  And he knew why, when he saw the face of his attacker...

 It was him.  He was reliving the deaths of all the innocents he had
  slain in blind rage throughout the centuries... empty deaths, deaths with no
  meaning... lives which he had not wanted to take, all in an endless loop.
  He saw the faces of his kinsmen, friends, people he didn't even know.  All
  consumed by the fury of the beast within.  It was something he was never
  truly able to deal with, could never forget... and someone had discovered
  this.  They were using it against him.

 He snapped awake in a cold sweat, sitting up, pulling his knees up
  to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.  He shook his head slightly,
  trying to work the images out of his mind.  The dreams were getting worse.
  The images of his own destruction shook him, but not nearly as bad as the
  ones he was just witness to... in those ones, the threat was unreal,
  intangible... but these... these were real. And it bothered him.

 He hopped off the bunk, grabbing his coat, noting that he hadn't
  even bothered to change out of his flightsuit from the battle earlier that
  night.  Not really giving a damn at that moment, he pulled the trenchcoat on
  and trudged out the door, headed for the officer's lounge.

 He found J-Rock there, who had been unable to sleep as well.  "Bad
  dreams?" J-Rock asked.

 Kirk shifted a bit, caught a little off guard by the question.
  "Nah," he said, trying to conceal the truth.

 "Have you ever heard of 'the hour of the wolf'?"

 "Should I have?"

 "'The hour of the wolf' is usually from three to four in the
  morning.  You may be trying to sleep, but you aren't really.  Meanwhile,
  your entire life is replayed through your mind's eye: all that was, wasn't,
  what could've been, what did, and what didn't.  And the only sound you hear
  while all this is going on is your own heartbeat.

 DS tried to conceal a shiver... that sounded all too familiar.

 "I've spent the last three nights in 'the hour of the wolf'.  And
  when I could sleep -- really sleep, that is -- I've been getting all sorts
  of disturbing dreams.  At first, it started with seeing Pacifica Island from
  the water. Only in my dream, there were large flocks of vultures circling
  it.  And from somewhere in the distance, I heard this weird, cackling laugh.
  Made Jinnai's sound pleasant by comparison.  But the topper happened
  tonight.

 "I dreamt I was looking at my own body from above, like those out-
  of-body experiences.  I was lying face up, with a large hole in my chest."

 DS shuddered slightly.  "That's nothing,  I dreamed I became mortal
  again and was ripped limb from limb," he said, not giving a hint to what he
  had just experienced.

 "You've got problems," J-R said flatly, taking a sip of his coffee.

 "Ain't that the truth."

 Kirk sat and chatted with J-Rock for a few minutes more, before
  finally giving in to the need to wander off.  He yawned and wandered out to
  door, not really headed back to his quarters.  He needed to be out in the
  night air, to be alone.  Or, almost alone.

 [Something troubles you, my friend?] came a voice.

 "Aye," he said to the empty night sky. "I'm sure ye know of th'
  dreams..."

 [Aye, that I do.]

 "Th' visions o' me death, I've had those b'fore, but this time,
  they seemed diff'rent.  More of a prophecy than a dream..."

 [And this disturbs you?]

 "Yer damn right it disturbs me... t'would disturb any man.  But
  there's more..."

 [Ah... the flashbacks.]

 "Aye.  Ye know I've experienced them b'fore as well... but these
  are diff'rent too.  Always they've been from me own eyes.  That was bad
  enough.  But this time....."

 DarkSide leaned on the rail and stared down at the water, sighing
  heavily.  "Never before have experienced the pain an' anguish of th'
  victims... I've never been able to truely forgive m'self for any o' their
  deaths, an' I never will... an' it seems someone knows that.  I get th'
  sense that someone or somethin' is tryin' t' break me will...."

 Kirk gazed back out over the water.  "Trouble is... I think it's
  working....."

 [Gregor,] began the voice, using the name that no one had called
  him for centuries, [you are stronger than this, and you know that.  Don't
  give in to the wills of those that would destroy you.]

 "I know... I keep tellin' m'self that..." He turned at leaned back
  against the rail, scanning the torn and pockmarked tarmac. "But a part o' me
  keeps tellin' me that it's all hopeless.  We've already lost so many, and
  we're all but guaranteed t' lose more.  Ever since th' battle this evening,
  I've been askin' m'self if it's really worth the loss t' retrieve so
  few...."

 He turned back around again to face the water, crossing his arms on
  the rail and laying his head down on them.  He sucked in a deep breath, and
  sighed heavily.

  "What really bothers me... is at this point........ I can't really
  say if it is or not..."

Copyright (c) 1996 DarkSide Studios