[ussbansheec] "Nightwalker's Vision"
- From: Elizabeth Bethell <ejbethell@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: ussbansheec@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2005 14:29:19 +0100
Nightwalker's Vision
*Nightwalker*
He blinked. "Now that just doesn't feel right," he said to the ceiling.
Closing his eyes again, Nightwalker felt the strangeness play against his
Sight. They were Swiftwinds that was for sure, but they didn't sit right in
his head. "Out of place..." No, not out of place. "Out of time," he
concluded.
Rolling to his feet, he chuckled ruefully at the cracks down his spine when
he straightened. "Old man," he told himself, shaking his head and heading
into his bathroom. Joseph could take care of things while he was away, he
thought as he splashed cold water on his face. They'd been sharing the load
since his Great-grandson had rejoined Starfleet to be with Traveling Wolf.
Raising ancient eyes to meet his own in the mirror above his sink, he
frowned. "Sticking your nose into a hornets' nest, White Buffalo. You might
not come back." But the alternative was to do nothing while his kin were
lost in the void so far from home. "Gonna get stung," he humphed as he got
dressed and packed quickly. Matthew's little runabout was still on DS9 so
all he had to do was get there and borrow it for a while.
As an after thought, he slid his shaman kit into his bag along with his
knife and a phaser. "Hate the things," he muttered, "but it's better to stun
a potential enemy and have time to work out they're a friend than to slit
their throats and never know."
It would barely take him a couple of hours to get to the station so he took
his time saying goodbye to the tribe. When he reached his Grandson, he knew
that a simple explanation wasn't going to cut it.
Inside the Chief's office, Nightwalker folded his hands over his stomach,
his bag at his feet. His dark eyes held Joseph's for a moment.
"Swiftwinds displaced in time but not space?" Joseph asked carefully.
"That's about the shape of it," Nightwalker said.
"And you're just going to stick your nose right in it." Shaking his head and
sighing, Joseph rubbed a hand over his face. "You're going to get stung, old
man."
"Almost certainly."
"And what will we do if you don't come back? You're our Nightwalker, the
tribe won't be the same without you."
"The tribe endures no matter who lives and who doesn't." Nightwalker smiled
fondly at his Grandson. "Don't fret, boy, I'll come back and far sooner than
you imagine. I've dreamed it, I know."
"And when you've totally messed up the future and the Temporal Police swoop
down to arrest you, I will pull the strings of the machine and get you
placed here under guard," Joseph sighed. "Well, go on then if you're going."
With a knowing smile, Nightwalker stood and sauntered out, the door clicking
closed behind him.
"Old fool," Joseph muttered, not really meaning it. His head sank to his
hands and he groaned. Old he may be, but Nightwalker was wise and never
wrong. A few moments later, a knock sounded on his door and he barked out
for whoever it was to come in. When he looked up it was into that old and
weathered face he'd feared he'd never see again. "Changed your mind?" he
asked hopefully.
"You could say that," the old man said ruefully as he dumped his bag down on
the floor and settled into a chair. "Now, a cup of coffee for an old fool
wouldn't go amiss and then I'll tell you a story..."
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