Star Trek: Erin

Part 23: That Blueshirt

     A hand slapped against the steamed glass, which normally would've been pretty nightmarish. Thankfully, a scratching sound in the corner of the glass clarified. Oh, it locked on her. There wasn't an external locking mechanism, so I brought my face close again. "I'm breaking the glass!"

     I wrapped a fist in the hem of my tunic and braced myself, which was when both Gabriel's boots crashed through the glass.

     "That was a special kind of stupid," I said. "Even for you." I used my already prepared fist to knock the rest of the glass way.

     "Shut up, I could barely breathe." Gabriel grudgingly let me help her out. We winced at the cuts in her basically bare legs.

     I glanced the way I'd come. Fennec needs us soon. "Alright, fix those fast, and then I need you."

     Gabriel bent to inspect the damage. "Never thought I'd hear that, Cobos. Say it again and I'll consider it."

     "A crewman is fucking dying, Gabriel."

     She lurched into action, her legs forgotten. "Where? What happened?"

     I'd never seen her in doctor-mode. It was kinda impressive. I took off. She grabbed her kit from under the skeleton and followed. "Crewman Fennec. Rapid strangulation." I paused as she stared at me incredulously. "What? Fine, a huge woman grabbed his throat and probably turned his trachea to bone meal. Can you do anything about that?" She thought about it. My lungs were supernovae, but I would rather die than let Gabriel outpace me. Which reminded me. "Got something to kill pain? Think one of my lungs popped."

     Gabriel stumbled and nearly fell over. "Cobos!"

     I tried to say something smart, but it came out as a wheeze.

     She gave a long-suffering sigh. "And I'm the stupid one?" She handed me a rattling bottle from her kit. "Take two. Unless you want to die, in which case, take as many as you want."

     I downed a couple and stuck my tongue out at her. "So how'd you end up trapped?" I asked, pretending I felt better already.

     "I was taking readings of the corpses when the pods started waking. My redshirts covered for me so I could hide in a pod. They were captured, but the stupid thing locked. No communicator signal in those."

     My lungs felt like they were filling with water—bad sign—but I was saved from the agony of not being able to mock her by us arriving at the munitions depot. She hurried away from me to inspect the damage. I was left standing awkwardly with Lieutenant Hoal. I waited for him to speak. Probably for the best.

     He gestured at the waiting redshirts. "Najjar, Kale, Ito, guard duty. Hallway." His gaze passed over Orlova and Styme, who were dressing the latter's forehead wound. Gabriel and Fennec were busy with the messed throat issue. Hoal's gaze reached me. "Junior lieutenant."

     "Sir."

     "What happened?"

     "When the superwoman woke, I directed the crewmen to defend the munitions. Defensive positions and a blockade across the door."

     "And Styme's phaser?"

     So, he found it. "She tried to trick us into lowering our weapons. He fell for it."

     "Where were you during this?"

     "Defensive position."

     "Why did you let Styme keep his phaser on stun?"

     "It happened too fast. I stepped between Styme and the threat immediately."

     "And?"

     "And she punctured my lung."

    "And?" he said again.

     "And she nearly killed Fennec, Styme, and Najjar before I killed her." Shut the fuck up, Cobos. You don't need to solidify his intentions to destroy your promotions track. Keep your tone neutral or don't talk.

     "You're a liability, Cobos."

     "Sir."

     "I ain't letting a liability become a lieutenant."

     I stayed silent.

     He studied me. "Am I understood, junior lieutenant?"

     I was seething, but I got out the two necessary words in the most respectful tone I could manage. "Yes, sir."

     Gabriel appeared, rubbing some sort of sanitizer on her hands. Her nail polish wasn't even chipped. "He's stable enough to move, but he needs more help on the ship."

     Hoal raised his voice. "You heard the medic, move out!"

     The crewmen condensed around us like a blood clot. Najjar and Orlova supported Fennec with Gabriel directing their efforts. We moved off, leaving the Botany Bay's munitions depot and the tiny pile of ash on its floor.

     I got the distinct feeling we were running out of time.

     We reached beam-in without incident, which only heightened my unease. The area was also empty. "Now what?" said Gabriel.

     Hoal shot her a warning look that I completely understood. Not in front of the crewmen.

     Then the ship jerked.

     Hoal tensed. "We're cast away."

     My mind leapt into overdrive. Thank god for the days I'd spent memorizing Enterprise facts. The Enterprise's standard push for captured vessels of this size is about fifty metres per second. Transporter range of forty thousand kilometres, that gives us roughly four hours to figure something out, unless they're on impulse or warp, in which case it's already too late. I frowned. But if the Enterprise is taken, who's going to let us back? It isn't like they—My frown dissolved into a smile. "Sir, I have an idea."

     "Go ahead," Hoal growled.

     I played around with the old-timey comms board until I managed to open a link to the Enterprise. "Who are you?" came from the other end, which is definitely not something anyone in Starfleet would say. "Khan said everyone was aboard."

     "Our pods malfunctioned," I said. "Readout said we were recorded as dead."

     "Readout?"

     Gabriel raised an eyebrow at me. Shitshitshit. "Heard one of the lesser beings calling them that. They're taken care of." I left a suitable pause. "There's nine of us, ready to serve Khan with you."

     Najjar crossed his fingers.

     "Prepare yourself, sister."

     HELL YEAH!

     We were beamed aboard. The superhuman working the transporter controls looked very confused for about two seconds, before the others in the room descended on us. They were stupidly fast. One pinned my arms before I could react, nearly breaking them.

     Which was exactly when neural gas came hissing from the air vents. I knew the bridge could do this. I'd even been interested to see it used, just not while breathing it with a fucking punctured lung. Each cough was a grenade in my chest, and the pain took me before the gas could finish its work.