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Had a weird dream last night. It's really rare that I can remember my dreams at all, let alone long enough to write them down (which I did hastily before packing up... I'm on the ferry home right now... Which, this year, has free WiFi!).
The other weird thing is that it was one continuous story, with only a few minor continuity changes.
It started out inside a large sci-fi chamber. Oversize, metal walls, light pouring in (bluer than usual) from some unseen windows above. We're looking at a woman in a flowing outfit - not exactly a dress or a robe, but drifts of some white linen-like fabric. She's a little shorter than average, with dark hair and dark eyes, but she has presence. This despite the fact that she's just been rescued. She's been gone a long time (weeks? more?), lost at the bottom of the ocean, where, by all odds, she should have died.
She's being welcomed back aboard by a tall, large man. His overlarge chest muscles are clear to see, for he wears only a dark blue cloth about his waist. He is a guardsman. Others in similar "uniform" move about in the background. He welcomes the captain back to Atlantis, the giant city swimming through the depths. (It looks nothing like SGA.)
We're looking through a camera, or the pages of a book, but right now we're in the POV of a specific individual. A man of higher rank. A courtier in the city. Half nobleman, half ranking navy man. The two hierarchies are mixed aboard the city-ship. The captain looks towards us and, with a wink, invites us to visit her chambers tonight. With casual words and a serious look, she mentions a night a year ago that we both remember. There is only the implication here, no actual memories or flashbacks. Though it's not clear, it seems the captain is prone to flings, and after having been lost for so long, she's looking forward to another. The nobleman is either an old favorite or just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe both.
We move on, leaving the nobleman's POV behind (I think). The captain goes to her chambers, where she is greeted by a girl. Maybe 10 years old, she rushes to give the woman a fierce hug. It's clear she's been waiting here for that very purpose. Though she is not the captain's daughter, it is clear that they have a similar relationship. A beloved "aunt," perhaps, or an adoptive mother.
There is a time of greeting and reunion, left private. We skip ahead, possibly to the next morning. It's hard to tell time down here in the depths, when the hallways are always lit by the same comfortable sourceless light.
Out the window, we see ships flying past. They're swimming, of course, but it looks more like flying. There are two types of ships in the city. The smaller ones, like stingrays, are personal craft and also serve as fighters (though it's not clear what weapons they might have). Some are designed to have a single pilot sitting on top. Others have open cabins (like a convertible with the top down) where up to four can sit.
The larger craft, like slightly flattened green blimps, are called Orcas. These seat many people inside their windowless interiors. They're used for mass transport. They look almost alive. Perhaps they are, genetically engineered living ships (though with little or no intelligence of their own). Or maybe they're just made to look that way.
Outside, it is dangerous. Other cities are out there somewhere, floating around, and not all of them are friendly or even neutral. There are also natural predators, fish large enough to swallow the transport craft whole. The city itself serves as a defense for the smaller craft, its size scaring off many predators. It also has bright lights, which frighten, paralyze, or distract the others. Not even the captain is sure why, but somehow the city's spotlights and other passive defenses seem to be enough to keep it (and the smaller craft around it) safe. Of course, smaller craft which go too far away, or which get stuck behind the shadow of a reef, even briefly, are in danger.
This is how the captain was lost. Her duties keep her aboard, mostly on the bridge (where she is headed now). The small fighter-craft are piloted by nameless, faceless others. People far below her station, with whom she never dealt except as numbers. Her army. The ones she dared not try to know because the casualty rate is too high. Too many to know, too quickly replaced by other commoners (who step up out of a mixed sense of duty and adventure).
But, looking out from the bridge of her city, seeing the pilots flying free through the waters, exploring without the bulk of the whole ship around them, the responsibilities of a whole city weighing them down... she yearned for a taste of that freedom, for a chance to explore. And, too, she felt that as the captain of the city, it would be foolish not to know how to pilot its smaller craft. In case of emergency. Just to know what it was that those she commanded did. To know something of their jobs.
So it was that she had arranged to pilot one of the little fighters. Just for a little while. So it was that she had been lost.
She's on the bridge now. Her second in command sits in the command chair, looking out the large windows, his claws around the city's controls. He looks like a lobster, but he is the size of a large dog. Big enough to sit in the chair, with arms long enough to reach the dual joysticks that are the ship's primary controls. he wears a command headset, and the others on the bridge (seen only in the background) are ready to take his commands.
The captain stands beside him, looking out, looking around... getting used to being home. She itches to take the controls. Perhaps she will soon. But she knows it is too early. Mentally, having just been rescued, having been away so long, she is not prepared.
The city approaches a gigantic reef. It's been floating past the outskirts for some time now, the smaller craft flying through and around some of the coral formations - arches and branches and fantastic shapes in all colors, some nearly as large as the city itself.
There is a dense cluster on the sea floor below. The canyons too tight for the city, but with passages more than large enough for the fighters and maybe even some of the Orcas, if their pilots were skilled enough and if they had reason to venture there.
A titanic fish swims out. It looks something like a goldfish, but it is big enough to swallow a fighter. In fact, it seems it's looking to do exactly that. The captain flashes back... She had been flying, enjoying the freedom, the exhilaration. She swooped through the coral canyons, exploring, moving... The giant fish had come out of nowhere. Panicked, she'd fled. Her wingmen, the others flying with her (perhaps even set to protect her) had been trapped behind. She'd looked back, but there was nothing she could do for them. To turn back would be suicide... she'd be swallowed right along with them! She'd fled and been lost, her craft disabled in the escape. Lost, alone...
She looks out the bridge window, reliving it. Feeling the panic anew. Frantically, she orders the ship to turn away, to flee the fearsome fish. The lobsterman does so, knowing that he's dooming the fliers in the reef, but she is the captain and he must follow her orders...
He turns the city away... and then swings about, readying the lights, now at a better angle to do their job. The pilots can yet be saved.
The captain struggles with her emotions, knowing she's safe in the city, knowing it must be done, thinking that this time, the others must be saved. But the terrors are too fresh, it's hard to think clearly. She's frightened out of her mind.
The ship approaches the reef. It's going to be close...
And that's when my alarm went off. Which, to be fair, is probably the only reason I remember any of this. It's only when I wake up in the middle of a dream that I have any chance of remembering it.
Ah well. In the main, it's just generic adventure elements. But it was vivid, and it had a story and... I just needed to write it up and share.
The other weird thing is that it was one continuous story, with only a few minor continuity changes.
It started out inside a large sci-fi chamber. Oversize, metal walls, light pouring in (bluer than usual) from some unseen windows above. We're looking at a woman in a flowing outfit - not exactly a dress or a robe, but drifts of some white linen-like fabric. She's a little shorter than average, with dark hair and dark eyes, but she has presence. This despite the fact that she's just been rescued. She's been gone a long time (weeks? more?), lost at the bottom of the ocean, where, by all odds, she should have died.
She's being welcomed back aboard by a tall, large man. His overlarge chest muscles are clear to see, for he wears only a dark blue cloth about his waist. He is a guardsman. Others in similar "uniform" move about in the background. He welcomes the captain back to Atlantis, the giant city swimming through the depths. (It looks nothing like SGA.)
We're looking through a camera, or the pages of a book, but right now we're in the POV of a specific individual. A man of higher rank. A courtier in the city. Half nobleman, half ranking navy man. The two hierarchies are mixed aboard the city-ship. The captain looks towards us and, with a wink, invites us to visit her chambers tonight. With casual words and a serious look, she mentions a night a year ago that we both remember. There is only the implication here, no actual memories or flashbacks. Though it's not clear, it seems the captain is prone to flings, and after having been lost for so long, she's looking forward to another. The nobleman is either an old favorite or just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe both.
We move on, leaving the nobleman's POV behind (I think). The captain goes to her chambers, where she is greeted by a girl. Maybe 10 years old, she rushes to give the woman a fierce hug. It's clear she's been waiting here for that very purpose. Though she is not the captain's daughter, it is clear that they have a similar relationship. A beloved "aunt," perhaps, or an adoptive mother.
There is a time of greeting and reunion, left private. We skip ahead, possibly to the next morning. It's hard to tell time down here in the depths, when the hallways are always lit by the same comfortable sourceless light.
Out the window, we see ships flying past. They're swimming, of course, but it looks more like flying. There are two types of ships in the city. The smaller ones, like stingrays, are personal craft and also serve as fighters (though it's not clear what weapons they might have). Some are designed to have a single pilot sitting on top. Others have open cabins (like a convertible with the top down) where up to four can sit.
The larger craft, like slightly flattened green blimps, are called Orcas. These seat many people inside their windowless interiors. They're used for mass transport. They look almost alive. Perhaps they are, genetically engineered living ships (though with little or no intelligence of their own). Or maybe they're just made to look that way.
Outside, it is dangerous. Other cities are out there somewhere, floating around, and not all of them are friendly or even neutral. There are also natural predators, fish large enough to swallow the transport craft whole. The city itself serves as a defense for the smaller craft, its size scaring off many predators. It also has bright lights, which frighten, paralyze, or distract the others. Not even the captain is sure why, but somehow the city's spotlights and other passive defenses seem to be enough to keep it (and the smaller craft around it) safe. Of course, smaller craft which go too far away, or which get stuck behind the shadow of a reef, even briefly, are in danger.
This is how the captain was lost. Her duties keep her aboard, mostly on the bridge (where she is headed now). The small fighter-craft are piloted by nameless, faceless others. People far below her station, with whom she never dealt except as numbers. Her army. The ones she dared not try to know because the casualty rate is too high. Too many to know, too quickly replaced by other commoners (who step up out of a mixed sense of duty and adventure).
But, looking out from the bridge of her city, seeing the pilots flying free through the waters, exploring without the bulk of the whole ship around them, the responsibilities of a whole city weighing them down... she yearned for a taste of that freedom, for a chance to explore. And, too, she felt that as the captain of the city, it would be foolish not to know how to pilot its smaller craft. In case of emergency. Just to know what it was that those she commanded did. To know something of their jobs.
So it was that she had arranged to pilot one of the little fighters. Just for a little while. So it was that she had been lost.
She's on the bridge now. Her second in command sits in the command chair, looking out the large windows, his claws around the city's controls. He looks like a lobster, but he is the size of a large dog. Big enough to sit in the chair, with arms long enough to reach the dual joysticks that are the ship's primary controls. he wears a command headset, and the others on the bridge (seen only in the background) are ready to take his commands.
The captain stands beside him, looking out, looking around... getting used to being home. She itches to take the controls. Perhaps she will soon. But she knows it is too early. Mentally, having just been rescued, having been away so long, she is not prepared.
The city approaches a gigantic reef. It's been floating past the outskirts for some time now, the smaller craft flying through and around some of the coral formations - arches and branches and fantastic shapes in all colors, some nearly as large as the city itself.
There is a dense cluster on the sea floor below. The canyons too tight for the city, but with passages more than large enough for the fighters and maybe even some of the Orcas, if their pilots were skilled enough and if they had reason to venture there.
A titanic fish swims out. It looks something like a goldfish, but it is big enough to swallow a fighter. In fact, it seems it's looking to do exactly that. The captain flashes back... She had been flying, enjoying the freedom, the exhilaration. She swooped through the coral canyons, exploring, moving... The giant fish had come out of nowhere. Panicked, she'd fled. Her wingmen, the others flying with her (perhaps even set to protect her) had been trapped behind. She'd looked back, but there was nothing she could do for them. To turn back would be suicide... she'd be swallowed right along with them! She'd fled and been lost, her craft disabled in the escape. Lost, alone...
She looks out the bridge window, reliving it. Feeling the panic anew. Frantically, she orders the ship to turn away, to flee the fearsome fish. The lobsterman does so, knowing that he's dooming the fliers in the reef, but she is the captain and he must follow her orders...
He turns the city away... and then swings about, readying the lights, now at a better angle to do their job. The pilots can yet be saved.
The captain struggles with her emotions, knowing she's safe in the city, knowing it must be done, thinking that this time, the others must be saved. But the terrors are too fresh, it's hard to think clearly. She's frightened out of her mind.
The ship approaches the reef. It's going to be close...
And that's when my alarm went off. Which, to be fair, is probably the only reason I remember any of this. It's only when I wake up in the middle of a dream that I have any chance of remembering it.
Ah well. In the main, it's just generic adventure elements. But it was vivid, and it had a story and... I just needed to write it up and share.
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