Quarline woke to the sound of a droning alarm. The rhythmic noise swirled around her head with each passing chime.
From her position on the floor, she could barely see past the scraps of food, stacks of research documents, or the loose cables which were wrapped around the busted furniture, as if it were some enormous creature, lurking beyond the walls of the ship.
"Mrs. Stagerd? Mrs. Stagerd, please, wake up, I need help!"
Quarline could hear her name being called, but felt utterly disjointed. The voice was floating in the void, separated from its body. There was no familiarity in the tone, even though a part of her suggested she knew who it was who was calling her.
Her own name didn't sound right. She knew it was her they were asking for, but in that moment, she was disconnected. Quarline Stagerd meant nothing to her. A depressing idea, to be one without a name that could draw the slightest recognition, even to ones self. Her mind reeled at the idea of being brain damaged; a few loose bolts rattling around a hollow shell; a chassis, waiting to be mounted.
"Mrs. Stagerd?" The voice came in once more, soft and whimpering.
Under her arm she could feel hands, they attempted to lift her, but fell short in the strength department. She knew she'd have to lift herself up if she wanted to get off the ground.
Pushing up, with the foreign hands feebly attempting to lift. She was back on her feet, and could see plainly, the devastation of the room. Twisted girders protruded from the walls, and the once gleaming steel plate. Sparks ejaculated from the limp cables hanging from the ceiling.
As she peered across the room, she was blinded by a beam of light. It moved in front of her, from right to left. She tracked it, but couldn't maintain a solid stare, as it hurt too much. She tried to lift a hand to block it out, but found herself swatted.
"Please, try to follow the light." She obliged. After a few moments, the light disappeared. "Take my hand, and squeeze it as hard as you can." Quarline realised that the voice was different from the one before. It was more sure sounding, and more feminine.
"Is she going to be okay?" The one from before came back.
"You're stronger than that Quarline, squeeze tighter!"
She squeezed as hard as she could, but started to just feel numb. pins and needles in her hands tingled across her palms and the contact with the other persons hands sent shivers of electricity up her arms. "I can't." She replied, eventually.
"What's going on, Doctor?" The weaker voice asked.
"It seems she has a concussion. A tumble like we took, that's bound to happen." The Doctor guided Quarline to take a step, which she did, slowly. "Here, come here and sit down for a moment. I think you need to catch your bearings."
