Fred walked up to the house she shared with Roswell and carefully opened the door, walking through as quietly as she could. She had come home early today, hoping that her roommate wasn't here. After a brief scan of the common room and staring at his personal room door for a while, she concluded that he probably wasn't. Thank goodness; she could enjoy at least an hour of tension-free silence before Roswell came home.
Going to her room, she emptied her 'loot' bag out onto the unused bed, intending to sort through the things she had found--but as she tossed the now-empty bag onto her bed, she saw a flash of something shiny out of the corner of her eye. Turning to see what it was, she saw some sort of crystal resting on her pillow. "That wasn't there this morning," she murmured. Reaching out to pick it up, she had just a second to register that it felt cool and hard under her fingers before the room spun giddily around her...
She was standing in some sort of control room, staring straight ahead. It was eerily silent; the machines around her should have been making a low-level hum. Had her hearing been impaired somehow? Beneath each of her hands she could feel rounded glass, smooth and slick and slightly warm to the touch.
There were other… beings in the room. At least, she assumed they were sentient. The things were a dark gray and looked vaguely like trash bins or pepper pots, with a plunger attached to the front and an… eye-stalk thing attached to their head-regions. They looked very familiar, like she should be well acquainted with these things. As she felt how quickly her hearts were beating, she realized something else.
She was completely terrified.
One of the things came toward her, its head-bumps pulsing with light. As her breathing rate increased, Fred wondered if the thing was talking to her.
Evidently it was. She shouted something at it. It looked over at one of the other creatures standing at a terminal; its head-bumps pulsed. Fred wasn't sure if that was good news or bad news.
The first one turned its eye-stalk back toward her, pulsing again. She took one of her hands off the glass and put it up to her hair—a nervous gesture? Or pushing the hair out of the way? Hard to say… yet another of the creatures rolled toward her, pulsing with light and shaking its plunger at her. She snapped her hand back onto the glass globe. It must have told her to put the hand back down.
The… interrogator-creature pulsed something else, and she… she lied. She could tell by the way her hearts pounded even faster and her body tensed up just a bit. Why the hell was she lying to these creatures that had her at their mercy? The thing pulsed at her again, the pulses faster. She didn't think it liked whatever she had said. It kept on pulsing at her until she flinched away, shouting words.
It turned back to the one at the terminal. That one pulsed something, which seemed to placate the interrogator slightly. It pulsed again, but the pulses were slower, calmer. This didn't seem to help calm Fred down—as the creature finished pulsing, she shouted one word over and over, beginning to cry from sheer terror. She added more words, she wasn't sure what, but the things ignored whatever she had said. Now they didn't seem to be paying her any attention at all.
Fred could feel the tears running down her face as the things pulsed at each other, presumably about whatever sort of questioning had been going on. The interrogator finally said something that Fred thought was about her—whatever it was, it was a good thing. She could feel her hearts slowing their frantic beating as she sighed in relief, slumping forward slightly and leaning against the glass under her palms.
Moving forward slightly, she looked down to see that her hands had been resting on globes of glass. She took them off, clenching them. Her fingers were stiff and slightly painful, as though they had been there for some time. She turned toward the interrogator and asked something, feeling vaguely hopeful about whatever it was she was saying. It pulsed at her again, and she could feel her hope dying.
Wait—there was something odd. She could feel her face wrinkling up in puzzlement and she murmured a few words. Whatever it had said, she hadn't been expecting it. But as it continued talking over whatever she was saying, she felt her face smooth into careful neutrality. It kept pulsing as she started walking slowly forward, turning to walk backwards so she could still see it.
Fred could feel the terror returning, slowly but surely. The creatures began rolling forward and she backed away. They started pulsing again as they drove her into a hallway, and Fred knew she would never get out of this situation alive; these pepper pots would kill her before she could escape. The memory faded…
Fred found herself on the floor of her room, shaking. The crystal had rolled out of her hand toward the door, probably when she fell, and she flinched away from it. Still operating under a haze of terror, she did the only thing she could think of to do--moving as quickly as she could, she crawled under her bed.
It wasn't until ten minutes later, when the shaking had finally stopped, that she noticed her hair was now hissing.
(Sight/Touch memory crystal from season 17, episode 1 [episode 104 overall]- Destiny of the Daleks, part II.)