Star Trek: Erin

Part 41: Too Slow or Not Fast Enough

     Nowak laid a hand on Alternate-Sprite's shoulder. His grip tightened.

     I watched as he hurled Sprite at the wall. Sprite struggled up, somehow still gripping the knife, and lunged at Nowak. The half-Vulcan swayed in a dodge, seized Sprite's shoulder and wrist with both hands, and pulled. For a moment, it looked like Sprite's arm would come off, but he let out an agonized yell and dropped the weapon. Nowak immediately released the pressure before repeating the move with the wall. This time, Sprite lay where he fell.

     I staggered. My hand was drenched with blood.

     "Michael, get this mess in the booth," I heard Glasgow say as I slammed against the nearest wall and slid down. I pressed both hands to the red streaming from my stomach.

     "Fuck," I whispered.

     Nowak was at my side, one hand behind my head, the other on my arm, guiding me into a more comfortable position. He produced cloth and gave it to me, pressing his hand over mine. I could barely feel it—too much adrenaline probably—but my energy was rapidly declining. "Stay awake, Erin. You need treatment." He glanced over his shoulder. "Glasgow?"

     He didn't reply immediately. Nowak went to stand. I let out a choked laugh. "I think I—I understand the 'no emotions' thing a bit better. It's so you don't rip people's arms off, huh?"

     Nowak settled down. Adjusted his hand behind my head. "Something like that."

     Glasgow appeared in my field of view and looked down at me. "What did I say about your personal affairs?" Nowak glanced up at Glasgow. The operative raised his hands. "Alright. Can you get her moving? We have one booth left."

     "You can leave me here," I said. "Even if I'm captured, what you're doing will bring everyone home." No matter where I am.

     "You do have to be alive," Glasgow said wryly. "Have you received the impression this version of Starfleet takes prisoners?"

     "Look, this sucks but Cobos is right." Michael met my eyes. "You'll slow us down. We'll keep in contact with communicators."

     "I will remain here," Nowak said.

     Marple frowned and went to speak, but Glasgow beat him to it. "If you don't wish to invite insubordination, I suggest you follow Michael and I, lieutenant."

     "Uh, right. Sir." Marple and Michael departed.

     Glasgow lingered a moment. "Two people down the hall, fifteen paces. They don't know you're here. The pain is going to worsen when I leave. I've been trying to deaden it." He tapped his temple. "Simple trick. If we cannot secure the next chamber in time, get her to med bay. They might treat her if you offer information."

     Nowak nodded.

     "Cobos, you're an asset. Try not to die until you make yourself useful." He pivoted and jogged after Michael and Marple.

     Nowak and I sat in silence for a moment.

     "Sorry about this," I whispered, letting out a little gasp as Nowak switched out my bloody cloth.

     "Never apologize, Erin."

     The pain was intensifying. Every breath was like I was being stabbed again and again. I needed to focus on something, but my thoughts were growing fragmented. "Nowak," I breathed. "Talk?"

     He understood. "Glasgow. We should discuss what we know when you have recovered, but his abilities are... more numerous than we thought."

     "Pain," I said eloquently.