Castaways

Chapter 5

Once again, I brought down the axe with a loud thunk, and the halves of the log clattered into their respective piles by the stump. I rubbed my shoulder. Even with all my Starfleet training, I definitely wasn't used to the labor of chopping wood. I wasn't even aware that they kept axes in the emergency supplies. I figured we'd just be expected to burn up tinder and dry branches we found in the woods.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Julian wipe his brow and lean over his stump, using the axe as a support. I sighed, watching him as I fitted another log on the block. The head of his axe was planted in the grass, while his arm was leaning against the handle.

"You're going to rust the head of your blade if you keep it in the wet grass like that. Plant it on a rock instead," I called out. He raised his eyebrows, glancing at me before looking down at the axe. With a grunt, he straightened back up and stuck the axe resolutely in the chopping block. I supposed that worked, too.

"We've been at this for ages," Julian complained, before plopping down onto the grass. I huffed out a sigh before bringing back the axe and slicing open the next log. He deserved the rest, I supposed. My body yearned for a break, too—but he was the one who'd been pulling all the extra weight because of my injuries. I couldn't exactly stop just because my arms hurt.

"Hey, Lieutenant. That means you too," he said, and I paused.

"I can go for a little longer," I said, starting to raise the axe again. Julian shook his head.

"Both as your medical doctor and your superior officer, that was an order, Lieutenant," he said. I raised an eyebrow, lowering the axe before balancing it on the stump. He didn't seem like he was joking. Deciding I didn't want to get in trouble for disobeying a direct order, whatever that trouble would be out here, I made my way over to him and sat down. Each of us was quiet for a moment, and the only sound was that of our heavy breathing. He was right. We'd been chopping wood for an hour, and it showed. From what I could see, Julian was coated in a thick sheen of sweat, and I had no doubt I was as well.

I took a swig of water from my canteen and reached into my uniform for a dry piece of linen. Yes, uniform—we'd found a couple extra in Lieutenant Commander Ryan's Quarters. They were the wrong color, but it was better than nothing. After searching around in my breast pocket for a bit I found a piece of cloth that had been a part of my tattered undershirt. Of course, with the way our outfits contoured our bodies it still got a bit damp, but it was dry enough to wipe the sweat from my brow. I laid down in the grass and slowly, my breath and heart began to return to their normal rates.

"My superior officers don't grant me this kind of leeway all that often," I said once I was no longer struggling for breath, grinning broadly with a little glint in my eye.

"I'm sure not many of them are your doctor, too. You're still not 100%, and you know that. Take it easy on yourself," he insisted. I rolled my eyes but I didn't say anything. He was probably right.

"You guys at DS9 were always a little more empathetic than the other Starbase crews," I murmured as I stared up at the sky. It was a little after noon, so the sun was at an angle, and I could look up at the sky without burning my eyes. The patch of blue I could see through the trees surrounding the clearing was striped with the white wisps of cirrus clouds.

"You have to be a good officer to get assigned to DS9. Maybe the other Starbases got the less disciplined cadets they needed to whip into shape," Julian offered. I blew out a breath. I supposed that was possible. It would explain why so many of our superiors at Starbase 173 had sticks up their rears. "Now that you bring it up, though—Why did you transfer off of DS9 in the first place? If you don't mind my asking."