Star Trek: Erin

Part 24: Recapturing Home

     I woke to being basically dragged down the hall by a familiar yellowshirt, which was difficult for him considering our relative sizes. Sounds of fighting were fading away. I smacked his shoulder. "Sprite, we're... we're going the wrong way."

     "Yeah, and I found you wheezing like you've got a punctured lung, so we're going to med bay. Last I heard it was secure from the superhumans."

     My hand went to the pulsing pain in my chest, and the slight movement threw off Sprite's balance and sent him careening into a wall.

     "Hey, watch it! I'm delicate," I said.

     "You're built like a horse and angrier than a Klingon pirate. I wouldn't describe you as delicate."

     My snort felt like it nearly ripped my chest in half. Guess I made a pained noise, because Sprite doubled his pace.

     "So what's wrong with you?" he said softly.

     I wanted to be furious with him, but he was my ride to med bay. And it felt good to talk like nothing was wrong between us. Helped me focus. We're in battle. You put aside grudges in battle, I justified. "Like you said. Punctured lung."

     "Really?"

     I wheezed.

     "Shit." Sprite was silent for a minute.

     I was perfectly happy with that. The coughing from earlier made me feel like my lungs could only fill halfway.

     "I miss you, Cobos."

     What? Did he just say—what? My first instinct was to laugh, that he couldn't possibly say something like that, that wasn't like him, but did I even know him at all? And how could he know me enough to say that? Miss what? My scathing wit? Is he genuine? Do I want him to be genuine? The hell is wrong with me? God, I'm worse at emotions than a Vulcan. I realized the pause had gone on for too long, and Sprite had looked away. What am I supposed to say?

     No, fuck that. What do I want to say?

     And that ever-present part of me was all, Oooo, get back on proper speaking terms with him, his career is going places and you need people like him.

     "Yeah," I said eloquently.

     Sprite visibly perked up, clipping his shoulder on a doorway and nearly falling. "I want to tell you... what happened between me and Section 31. Not now, I need time. But soon."

     I just nodded. Maybe it was messed, but I did want to know what had happened to make him kill. And maybe... maybe be there if he wanted to be better.

     We stumbled into med bay, and I didn't have to say anything.

     "I'm still mad at you," I said to Sprite as the nurses swarmed to put me on a bed and figure out what the hell was wrong with me, but my tone was lighter with him than it'd been in a long time.

     "You're welcome," he said with a smirk. And left.

     Well, turns out it was a punctured lung. Space medicine is great and all but that didn't change the fact that it fucking hurt.

     Another thing that hurt was not knowing how I felt about Sprite. Did it compromise my ideals to enjoy spending time with him in crisis? It didn't matter that a Lieutenant Tetra was alive and adjusting rather well to not murdering or being murdered, the other one had still died. And he still didn't give a damn that he'd killed her. In his mind, I was the unreasonable one.

     I needed to talk with Nowak when talking didn't hurt so much.

     I heard about the reclaiming of the Enterprise second-hand from the nurses. Marple let me know he was alive, Munitions was secure, and I updated him on my situation.

     Being in the med bay sucked, but thankfully Doctor McCoy was dealing with injuries more pressing than a punctured lung, and I got one of his friendly support doctors. Gabriel arrived with Styme and Fennec soon after. She glared at me but didn't come over to talk. Probably 'cuz I'd apparently teleported there on my own and hadn't bothered to take anyone with me.

     For some reason, I wanted to explain to her what had really happened.

     Nowak arrived to visit me, and I immediately grinned. "Why so happy?"

     His fingers brushed his tunic cuff and I realized a second before he said it. "I was given a battlefield promotion to junior lieutenant."

     My grin widened. YES, NOWAK! "Brilliant. How'd it go down?"

     Nowak perched on the edge of my bed. "When the ship was taken, Marple, Klove, and I were shown to the nearest room. We were working on an escape and Munitions reclamation strategy when the First Officer and Chief Engineer arrived, providing enough distraction for us to assist. The... the First Officer gave me the promotion. It meant a lot to me." Nowak looked away.

     I gave him a moment. That took a lot for him to say.

     "We were able to retake Munitions and act as staging for the rest of the ship."

     "Badass. How did the new kid handle himself?"

     "Ensign Klove had few ideas for the plan, but once in action, he was quite the force. Injured several times, but continued fighting. Not unlike someone I know." A shadow passed behind Nowak's eyes.

     "Hey," I said, and poked him. "You tell stories like a Vulcan."

     "My mother would say I put excessive emotion into that. 'Cut the melodrama, Nowak. 'Escape' is such an emotional term, I raised you better than this. Was that a sentence fragment I heard?' And so forth." His voice barely changed, but I had a feeling his voice was very similar to his mother's.

     I tried to poke him again, but he swayed, and I nearly fell out of bed. "At least throw in some more feelings. How'd you feel when the ship got taken?"

     "Concerned."

     I laughed, my lungs nearly killed me, Nowak's lips twitched, and life was good.

     When Nowak left sometime later, a thought appeared unbidden.

     I killed someone.

     My throat felt tight. I'd dispatched plenty of people in Academy simulations, but the real thing sat differently. There wasn't any going back, and I didn't regret it even if I could.

     I didn't hesitate. That's a good sign.

     A good sign? Wow.

     It doesn't have to be easy. It just has to happen.

     I sighed. Not much else for me to do except study some history, contemplate the morality of my actions, and wait for my punctured lung to heal.