Olympus Hall

University of Calgary

Monday Night

Drew examined the dreamcatcher in his hands. It appeared to match any one of the many trendy copies he had seen in store windows: a wooden circle with delicate leather strings crisscrossing it in a pattern and other leather strips hanging from the sides and bottom. Entwined into the hanging strings were an eagle feather and three-flat pieces of stone no thicker than a few millimetres, upon each was carved a series of runes similar to the symbols on the teleportation chamber the students used to travel to Professor Eldricht’s library.

The professor had given each of the students a similar dreamcatcher at the end of today’s class, which had been focused on mental calming and relaxation techniques. He had told the students that the items had been crafted by himself and a shaman friend. The magical items would enhance the restorative nature of sleep if hung near or above their beds, but he had also said that each student would occasionally experience a vision quest while doing so. The nature of the vision would be unique to the dreamer and come at a time to offer guidance.

As a man of science, Drew continued to find the talk of magic and spirit guides hard to believe; magic was merely the way that some reality-manipulating metahumans manifested their powers. Although the nature and origin of metahuman abilities continued to baffle everyone who studied it.

With a light sigh, Drew hung the dreamcatcher on the small hook he had placed on the wall next to his bed earlier that night, then lay his head upon his pillow and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

“Come on baby, be all shiny and start purring again.” Drew opened his eyes to find himself under some sort of large machinery: chrome pipes, valve covers, and solid metal blocks inches above his nose. “Drew can you check the plasma pressure overflow sweety? The female voice was light, cheery, and achingly familiar.

Drew hitched himself to the side a bit and checked the mentioned valve, which somehow he knew exactly where it was and how it worked. “Looks good here.”

“Well, that ain’t shiny. We need to get this girl purring again or Captain is gonna be a bit miffed.” Drew heard movement around him and saw a pair of oil-stained work boots walk by, then slid himself out. He knew where he was. “Come on, let's try the capacitors next.” Drew slid himself out from under the engine works and stood up next to the small woman. “If the caps are not storing enough power that would explain the engines not cold starting.” Drew looked around and had his suspicions confirmed, he was in the cramped engine room of one of his favourite tv show starships. At the other end of the engine that protruded into the room was the engineer, currently bent over the capacitor access panel in the bulkhead, her grease and oil spotted coveralls stretching tightly across her posterior.

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Oh, mon Dieu.

“You know what your dilemma is Sweetie?” the engineer asked as she crawled partly into the access port.

“No, mon cher,” Drew willed his voice to sound husky; deep and manly.

“Shut up and hand me the small black electrical kit,” the young woman laughed.

Drew sagged his shoulders and passed in the aforementioned tool kit. Ok, so it was not one of those dreams. He turned and pulled off another panel cover on the wall, inspecting the electronics within. “Ok, Kaylee, what is my dilemma?”

“Now I know you did not have a sparkly kinda upbringing, but you are so worried about letting people really get to know you that you keep this big ole wall around you. Nobody gets in, nobody gets the chance to really connect with you, all because they might hurt you.”

“Ok, so tell me how long the Doctor has been onboard and you not saying anything about how you feel?”

“We are not talking about me, we are talking about you. Stop trying to change the subject.” Several transistors flew out from within the panel, past Kaylee’s feet, and pinged along the floor. “Hand in a set of C-234 transistors.”

Passing the transistors in Drew leaned against the wall. Maybe this was a vision quest. “I am just going to ask, is this a vision?”

“What did you expect, a talking dog in the desert? Maybe a singing bush?” Ping, another blown transistor went bouncing across the deck. “Hand me another transistor. Poor girl must have a dozen fried ones here. Reckon it happened when we ran from that Alliance patrol.”

“Alright, wise spirit guide...what should I do?”

“Well as I see..” Kaylee was cut off by a thundering yell coming down the passageway into engineering.

“Kaylee, why in the flaming sphincter of Hell is my ship still on the ground?” The captain strode into the engine room, a long brown coat fluttering behind him and hooked his thumbs into his leather gun belt.

“No worries Captain! Me and Drew almost got her going. Five more minutes,” Kaylee responded from within the engine.

“Well since I ain’t got a ship that can fly and a cargo that ain’t going nowhere I aim to dispense some wisdom of my own.” The captain reached into his coat, pulled out an apple and folding knife, then began to carefully cut out a slice. “You see, everyone in a crew needs to have a job, a role they play,” he drawled while spearing the slice of apple on his knife and eating it. “You don’t know yours yet.”

“Beg pardon Captain, but I think he needs to be open with people, form friendships and tell people how he feels.”

“Oh like the spiffy-dressed city doc down in medbay knows just how you feel right?”

“We ain’t talkin’ bout me, Captain! We are trying to help Drew. Besides if we are talking about telling people how we feel...how about you telling Inara how…”

“Hey, my ship my rules! We are helping Drew here.” The handsome captain bit into another slice of apple. “Find your place on your crew son.”

“Open up to people!”

Drew found himself torn between an assault of fanboy glee and confusion. If the professor was right and this was a true vision quest, which advice did he follow? A pair of warm, solid hands on his shoulder jarred him out of his self-contemplation.

The smiling, comforting face of a third crewmember greeted him. The man known as Shepard stood before him, hands resting on Drew’s shoulders. “You have to decide what advice to follow. Nobody can decide what path we take in life, except ourselves. Now, time to wake up Son.”