Story:Star Trek - Infinity/Chapter 9



I watched the familiar lights of the turbolift blink as I stepped out onto deck one and headed for the captain’s ready room.

It had been three days since the Bioleeches had attacked, and the Infinity was still stuck in orbit. Chief Todd had managed to restore main functions, but helm control and the warp core were still offline due to several ruined power relays.

I stepped through the doors leading into the captain’s ready room, and found Commander Chekov and Christopher waiting inside.

Chekov looked up. “Ah, Cadet Carver, right on time. Have a seat.”

He indicated towards the chair next to Christopher’s, and I sat down.

Chekov put down his datapad and looked at us. “As you both know, our attempts to restore warp and impulse drive have been unsuccessful. Commander Forrester and I have discussed the matter, and we both agree that it is necessary for us to explore the area nearby and find help; perhaps from the people of Guandi Talek. Since I cannot spare Lt. P’Trell at the moment, I have decided to send you two instead, along with Ensign Dioxa. She will be there to determine an adequate solution to the problem.”

I nodded, and he finished. “You two will be leaving in one hour; you’ll be using Shuttlecraft 1. Dismissed.”

The two of us got up and headed for our respective quarters to prepare. As I entered my room, I found Nicky inside, reading something on her datapad.

I grabbed my bag, and began putting items in it: my datapad, an extra uniform, my jumpsuit uniform.

Nicky glanced up from what she was reading. “Going somewhere?”

I nodded. “Ensign Dioxa, Christopher, and I are going to look for a way to restore our engines.”

She put down her datapad and grinned. “Did I hear Christopher’s name in there? This might be your chance to get to know him a little better; maybe talk about your feelings?”

I blushed. “Don’t be ridiculous. This…this is just…”

I fumbled for an excuse, and Nicky laughed. “I was just kidding Des. I’m sure you’re right; it’s way too soon to start talking about those kinds of things.”

But as she picked up her datapad again, I saw her give me wink.

I stepped into the shuttlebay, and found Ensign Dioxa waiting for me. Where was Christopher?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I walked over to her and asked, “Where’s Christopher?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">She glanced down at me, her professional Andorian posture making her seem much more intimidating. “Ensign Arch appears to be running late.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">At that very moment, Christopher came bursting through the doors; a carrying case in one hand, and a datapad in the other.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He hurriedly said, “Sorry I’m late ma’am.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">Ensign Dioxa raised an eyebrow. “Ensign Arch, I expect this sort of tardiness from cadets, but now that you’re an officer, you should make sure to be more punctual.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">As Dioxa entered the shuttle, I noticed his head sag.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He hadn’t been kidding when he said the other officers were treating him with disrespect. He was usually very punctual and if Dioxa was going to be picky, I had been late too technically.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">As we entered the shuttle’s cockpit, Dioxa turned to us. “I take it you’ve both been briefed on our mission?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">We both nodded and she said, “You two will each pilot the shuttle for half the trip, starting with Ensign Arch. In a couple of hours, Cadet Carver will relieve you.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">Chris sat down in the pilot’s seat and began the startup sequences.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">The shuttle glided out of the hangar and shot to warp; once again bending the stars and stretching their heavenly light across the darkness of space.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I glanced over at the nav board and caught sight of Christopher in my peripheral vision. It had been an hour since we had switched places, and he hadn’t said a word to me except to tell me new course changes.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I finally decided to break the silence. “So, what’re your roommates like?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He replied, “Huh?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I gulped and repeated, “Your roommates; are they any fun?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I bit my tongue. I had had an hour to think about what to say, and that’s the best I could come up with?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He replied, “Well, there are a couple of second year students, one in engineering and one in command. I talk to them a bit sometimes. But the one in engineering is a bit geeky; I can’t understand half of what he says. And the command one is always practicing his ‘captain’s voice.’ The last one is a first year in security. He’s an Andorian, kinda quiet. How ‘bout you? What are your roommates like?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I stammered for a moment, “M-me? Oh. Well, there’s Phoebe; she’s a first year cadet in the medical division. She’s … well … she talk’s a lot, and she likes old earth movies. And then there’s Denarchia; she’s a first year in security. She’s a Xindi; a little on the grumpy side. And then there’s Nicky, she’s in the science division. She and I talk a lot, she’s really nice.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He replied, “Wasn’t she the girl who was hurt in the lab when the warbirds attacked us?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I nodded. “Yeah.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He replied, “That must’ve been hard for you.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">‘Wow, he actually cares.’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I quietly answered, “Yeah, it was.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">At that moment, we pulled out of warp beside the familiar brown and tan planet of Guandi Talek.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">Ensign Dioxa walked into the room. “Open hailing frequencies.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">Christopher tapped a button on his console, and Dioxa said, “Hello Guandi Talek outpost. This is Ensign Zatala Dioxa, of earth. We have once again found ourselves in a bit of trouble, and humbly request your-”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">The shuttle shook and Dioxa was thrown off balance.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">She recovered her footing and shouted, “I repeat, we are of earth, from the federation starship, USS Infinity, hold your fire!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">The next shot finished off our shields, and a third tore through left nacelle, sending us spiraling downwards into the planet’s atmosphere.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">The shuttle slowly began to pick up speed, and flames lanced off its exterior.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">Dioxa rushed towards the hallway and shouted, “Try to keep the shuttle steady; I’m going to reboot the engines!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">Christopher spoke aloud, “We’re picking up speed; ten thousand meters, eight thousand, five thousand. Come on Des, level her off.” The planet’s surface was getting closer. “One thousand!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I closed my eyes and held my arms up as I braced for impact.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I blinked my eyes and sat up. I dabbed my forehead, and felt blood welling up from a wound. ‘Where am I?’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I sat up, and it all came back to me at once. We had been above Guandi Talek; somebody had been shooting at us. We were about to crash, and then...

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I looked around. I was lying near the entry to the hallway. The shuttle was tilted at a forty-five degree angle upwards. Its titanium nose was pushed; it had completely crushed the pilot’s seat. ‘Wait, I was in that seat, how did…?’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">''Then I remembered. ‘Something grabbed me right before we crashed. Could it have been...?’''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I looked to my left, and spotted Christopher, lying limp behind me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I staggered to my feet and placed my hand on his neck, feeling for a pulse.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">“Come on Christopher…please be okay.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I felt his pulse. It was uneven, but still there.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">‘He saved my life, again.’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I had no real training in medicine, but I had taken a semester course in first aid, and remembered that the best thing to do was to make sure the patient had no broken bones, and then roll them onto their back.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I fumbled for the first aid kit’s medical tricorder, and scanned Christopher. It showed one hairline fracture along his left arm. I slowly rolled him over, making sure to brace his weight on his right side so as not to disturb the fracture.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">After making sure Christopher was situated, I headed down the hallway to find Ensign Dioxa.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">As I opened the doors to the engineering section, I gasped and immediately looked away, but I had already seen too much. The entire back end of the shuttle was pushed in on itself. The normally horizontal warp core had been ripped from its housing, and lay on the ground at an awkward angle. And in the middle of it all was Ensign Dioxa, impaled by a support rail.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I walked back to the front of the shuttle, desperately trying to banish the gruesome scene from my mind.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I knelt down and checked Christopher’s pulse again; it was starting to get weaker.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I clasped his hand in mine. “No Christopher! Come on, stay with me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">His pulse stopped and I gasped.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I placed my hands on his chest and pushed, trying to get his heart pumping again. “Come on Chris! Breath!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I felt his wrist again; no pulse

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I kept pumping. “No! Chris, come on!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I felt his wrist again; still no pulse.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">A tear tricked down my cheek. “Chris! Please, don’t leave me here all alone.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He gasped and took in a deep breath of air.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He blinked his eyes, and said faintly, “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I began to cry tears of joy. “You were probably faking the whole thing!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He replied, “It’s a little bit difficult to fake heart failure.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He smiled. “Besides, I would never want to make you cry.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">‘He does have feelings for me.’ I turned as I heard the shuttle’s hatch open, and a voice called out, “Hello? Anyone here?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I called back, “Yes, we’re in here!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I heard footsteps, and the doors slid open, revealing none other than San Marrel, our guide.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">I smiled, tears still streaming down my face. “Oh San, thank goodness you’re here! My friend is hurt.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He grinned. “Well, isn’t that a shame.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in">He pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing an energy pistol. “I’d be happy to help…”