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"Boomer Bust" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG-13 As usual: Comments and Reviews wanted and appreciated! Thanks! ;) Two “Um...a little more to the right, Commander. That's it. Now take it slowly.” Travis shifted his weight as the safety harness he wore dug into his shoulders. The cable lines creaked as Trip Tucker lifted his foot and placed it onto a small stone ledge carved into the wall. Trip took a deep breath and hoisted himself up. “God Almighty,” Trip gasped. “I'm so out of shape. Good thing I've got ya to kick my butt out of Engineering. I didn't even know we had a rock-climbing wall in the gym.” Travis allowed himself a secret smile, for he had been a major force in getting the wall installed. He had connections within the Boomer community and managed to negotiate an even trade for the materials. Even Malcolm agreed that a little cardiovascular exercise would be good for the crew. “Yeah, well, it's one of the best-kept secrets on the Enterprise, Commander.” Trip chuckled and shook a cramp out of his hand. “And you've got the sharpest ear for secrets and rumors on board this ship too, Travis. How do ya do it?” He gave the commander a look of complete innocence. “Do what?” “Get people to tell ya stuff they wouldn't tell their momma.” He managed to shrug one shoulder. “I dunno. I guess you see and hear all kinda things growing up on a cargo ship. You learn pretty quickly when to talk and when to keep your mouth shut.” “Yeah, I can see that--whoops!” Trip's foot slipped out of its hold and he flailed about in empty space. The safety harness kept him from a long fall to the floor. Travis gritted his teeth as he braced himself against the engineer's weight. Slowly, he eased Trip back to the floor unharmed. Trip blew out a breath and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Thanks, Travis. I'd have been flatter than a pancake.” “That's why you always need a spotter,” Travis reminded him. “So you don't get one of your limbs broken or something.” The engineer's grin grew wider as he said, “Touché.” Travis laughed; he'd purposely set himself up for that one. He'd broken a leg while mountain climbing on Risa and on that frozen comet. He didn't hold the record for most consecutive days in Sickbay, though. Malcolm held that, with Trip not too far behind him. “Commander, mind if I ask you a technical question?” Trip wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel. “Sure, what's up?” “Those new RH-900 super cargo tugs...what's your opinion on 'em? How do their Class Five engines compare with the Class Fours?” Trip snorted. “Class Fives are overrated. Their output's only marginally better than the Fours. It's the same design, just repackaged worse than day-old sushi. Yeah, sure, the plasma injectors don't clog up as often and the manifolds are spaced more efficiently, but in my humble opinion--” He launched into a tirade about “reinventin' the wheel” and “triple-phase capacitors making the power tree more complicated”. Travis listened intently and nodded in the appropriate places. He'd spent the past two days researching Alpha Centauri's trading culture. The place hadn't changed much since the last time he'd been there, but where it had changed, it was drastic. Not only had the costs increased, but new technologies was making Class-Js and other transports obsolete. The RH-900 super cargo tugs, for example. Paul would just flip if the family switched to the RH-900s. He'd never give up the Horizon easily and I don't blame him. It may be considered clunky and junky, but it's home.René Trieste owned a couple of the new tugs, but he was a old Boomer at heart, and sympathized with the other Boomers. At least, that was what the grapevine claimed, but Philippe wasn't so sure. The young helmsman knew his father, and Trieste wasn't the stoic champion of equality and justice. “Your brother thinkin' about getting one of those shiny new toys?” He snorted. “Can't afford it, and I don't think he would even if he could afford it. Horizon's home, Commander, and Paul won't give it up.” “Even if the rest of the Boomer fleet decides to go with 'em?” “Even if.” Travis shrugged uncomfortably. “Paul's kinda old-fashioned that way. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.” Trip gazed at him, his blue eyes unwavering. “But you don't agree with him.” He shrugged again and replied, “I can understand why he wouldn't. I think I'd be crushed too if the Horizon ended up on the scrap heap, you know. There're memories on that ship.” “But--” “I'm not the captain; Paul is. It's his decision. If it came to the family livelihood or his own personal feelings, I'm sure he'd make the right one when it's time.” Trip shook his head and said, “You must love your brother very much, even if you don't agree with him at times.” Travis tried to lighten up the mood again with a smile. “He's my brother, Commander. We're gonna butt heads now and then.” “As long as you guys don't whup each other's butts beyond repair, I think that'll happen anyway.” He punched Travis in the shoulder. “C'mon, let's get cleaned up. I have a dinner date with the Cap'n and don't you go on shift soon?” “Yeah. I swapped shifts with Crewman Trieste. He hasn't been feeling well lately and I--” A sharp whistle interrupted him. Before he could react, Trip was at the com speaker at the wall and acknowledging the page. As usual, Hoshi Sato got to the point. “Travis, Philippe Trieste has been brought to Sickbay, and he wants you down here.” Travis skidded to a stop in front of the Sickbay doors a split second before he ran right into them. He squeezed his lithe bulk as they automatically opened. Trip pounded after him, towel still around his neck. They both stopped short as they saw both Captain Archer and Lieutenant Sato at Philippe's bedside. Phlox hovered near the unconscious man's head as he checked the readout panel. “What happened?” Trip demanded. Hoshi sighed and shook her head. She squeezed Philippe's hand, then answered, “We received a priority message from Alpha Centauri, marked for him. He was just getting off-shift, so I gave it to him. Then his face went pale and he started shaking.” “I called him into my Ready Room so we could talk,” Jon Archer added. The captain's brow was furrowed in concern and his lips were pressed tightly together. “That's when he collapsed. Malcolm and I had to drag him to Sickbay, then Malcolm went back up to the Bridge to keep an eye on things. Trieste came to for a brief moment right after Malcolm left, and begged Hoshi to call you.” Phlox broke into the conversation before Travis could panic. “It seems the crewman had a bad shock, which combined with his head cold, caused him to lose consciousness. This should wake him up.” The hypospray hissed against Trieste's neck. “Ah, there we go.” Philippe stirred and opened his eyes. He looked at the concerned group standing around him and blushed. “Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--” Archer placed a hand on his shoulder. “It's all right, Crewman. You know, I thought only Lieutenant Commander Reed was the only one to catch head colds.” The young man winced at the joke. “I suppose I'm in good company, sir.” He took a deep breath and called out hoarsely, “Travis?” “I'm here, Philippe,” Travis said. “Told ya to call me day or night, and so I'm here. What's wrong?” Philippe's face twisted in pain as tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. “Oh, God, Travis, my father is dead!” |
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