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"Blue Tears" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG-13 Please leave a review! Thanks! Eight “Commander Daniels! Look!” Daniels’s head snapped around and his world spun around him. He grabbed the edge of the command chair before he ended up on the deck again. The medic moved towards him, but he waved her off. Hawkins switched the viewscreen from its tactical view to normal and Daniels gasped despite himself. Lokari was approaching the defense net at high speed, but two of the platforms scrambled to cover the gap. Daniels didn’t hesitate. “Clear the way for them, Fitz, in any way you can. Any sign of Shuttlepod Seven?” “Not yet, sir, but they can’t be far behind.” Hawkins stabbed the button with his hand. “Torpedoes away.” Two of Columbia’s precious torpedoes streaked out of its only functional tube. Daniels held his breath; he’d been forced to retreat and let Devonshire and the other Starfleet and Andorian ships take up the offensive. The casualty list was staggering: eleven so far, including Opur and half of the Engineering department. It could have been much worse, if Opur hadn’t contained the explosion with the emergency bulkheads. Daniels watched as another spread of torpedoes from Devonshire finished the job that Columbia started and blasted a hole in the defense net that allowed Lokari through. A ragged cheer rang over the Bridge as the pod headed toward Hanrii. Daniels waved smoke away from his face and half-stumbled, half-dragged himself to Hawkins’s side. “How long until the platforms move to cover the gap?” “Five minutes, sir. I hate to say this, but the captain’s two hour deadline is almost up. If they don’t appear soon, they won’t at all,” Hawkins replied grimly. The damage reports came in one after the other, and Daniels listened to all of them. Warp drive destroyed, only half-impulse left. Lieutenant Giraldi and the medical staff had been forced to move whatever they could from Sickbay on E Deck to Cargo Bays Two, Three and Four. The makeshift Sickbay was already flooded with casualties. Matt is gonna be furious, Daniels thought with a wince. He throttled down a surge of anger against his captain. If Hayes hadn’t been so eager to get involved with the Andorian/Vulcan conflict...if Hayes had taken into consideration Daniels’s concerns about the computer problems on board the ship...if the Vulcans hadn’t kidnapped Jhamel and Talla and started it all... He stopped that line of thought cold. Matt was trapped by obligation and he did what he could, Daniels reminded himself severely. Don’t judge him...he was walking a tightrope as it was... “Commander, we’ve got Shuttlepod Seven on the scanners,” Hawkins interrupted. “They aren’t responding to hails...” Daniels glanced at Crewman Ekateruo, Lieutenant Taylor’s relief comm officer. Ekateruo shook his head and added, “I’m doing my best, sir, but half of the comm circuitry’s fried.” “Do what you can, Samdi,” Daniels reassured him. He put the anger and resentment aside and was once again the “Human Vulcan” first officer. “Shuttlebay Three’s still operative, right?” Hawkins answered, “It’s the only one that can handle Shuttlepod Seven.” “Daniels to Cargo Bay Two. Lieutenant Giraldi and crash team, report to Shuttlebay Three. Lieutenant Hawkins, you have the Bridge.” “Sir,” Hawkins replied as he took Daniels’s place in the center chair. Daniels stalked into the turbolift and hit the button. The lift scraped against the sides of the shaft; Daniels hoped it would function long enough for him to get to his destination. A sense of dread nagged at him, one that he couldn’t logically place. Perhaps it was his worry about Hayes’s reaction to Columbia’s damage or the fact that eleven good men and women had sacrificed their lives. Stop it, he told himself fiercely. The captain and the crew are depending on you to keep a level head, so stop reacting and act, dammit! Daniels took a deep breath as the lift took several more moments than usual to slow and stop, then the doors opened onto the shuttlebay deck. He barreled out, nearly running over Giraldi on the way. “No word on casualties, Lieutenant,” he said, anticipating Giraldi’s question. “Our comm system’s still down.” “We’ll take care of the captain and the others, sir,” Giraldi said. “I think Captain Hayes isn’t gonna be happy with the ship all busted.” “No, he won’t, but we’ll deal with it.” Daniels nodded at the rest of Giraldi’s team, who’d been recruited from a number of other departments. “All right, people, let’s do our jobs.” “Yes, sir!” they chorused as the hatcht o the shuttlebay deck opened. Kemper and Katakanian were assisting some of the members of the assault team. At Giraldi’s order, the trauma team swarmed the deck. Kemper kept his face turned away from Daniels and the others, while Katakanian's ruddy features were scarlet with anger and grief. The ensign helped Lieutenant Taylor out of the shuttlepod as if she was made of spun glass. The comm officer looked dazed, her blue eyes wide, tears sliding down her cheeks. The sound of quiet sobbing pierced Daniels’s heart. Hayes hadn’t appeared and none of the assault team had yet said a word about him. A cold fear stuck Daniels’s feet to the deck. Come on, you need to find out where Matt is. Maybe he was on Lokari with Captain Shran. His mind came up with many scenarios, but none matched the reaction of the assault team. Daniels’s mind refused to accept the most logical scenario. He swallowed hard and managed to find his voice. “Nathan?” Kemper jumped at the sound of his name. “Sir!” “Report, Major.” Kemper drew himself to attention; Daniels noticed he favored his right side, and his stiffly formal manner belied the pain in his eyes. “The retrieval mission was a success, Commander. Lady Jhamel and Lady Talla were rescued; they’re on Lokari. We sustained heavy casualties, sir: six dead and four wounded. The Andorian casualties were much worse than ours.” Six dead. Daniels forced himself to ask the question. “Captain Hayes?” The major struggled to keep his composure as he led his superior officer into the shuttlepod. Doctor Arroyo knelt next to a man’s body covered with a blanket, her shoulders shaking with emotion. Corporal Chang turned to them with a stricken expression. “Oh my God,” Daniels breathed. He dragged himself to Rosie’s side and put an arm around her shoulders. “Is—?” She shook her head, but didn’t answer. He nodded at Chang, who gently led Arroyo to one of the empty seats. Daniels took another measured breath, then forced himself to uncover the dead man’s face. “Matt. Oh God.” Hayes’s face was peaceful, in contrast to the ugly chest wound that had killed him. Daniels’s brain dispassionately noted the injury on Hayes’s left side, near his heart; that alone would have killed the captain, even if he hadn’t been shot with a disruptor. Kemper’s voice was low and dangerous. “His phase rifle was completely discharged, sir. The captain didn’t give up without a fight. Looks like he didn’t suffer long, if he did at all.” Daniels said nothing; his hand gripped Hayes’s shoulder with enough force to make his knuckles ache. God, how am I going to tell Hoshi that her husband is dead? They’ve barely been married two months. This is going to devastate her. He took another deep breath; the crew needed him now. He could mourn later, in private, but they needed him now. Daniels forced himself to let go as he said hoarsely, “Take care of him, Rosie. Nathan, stay here with them. Our obligation to the Andorians is finished...it’s time to bring our dead home. We owe Captain Hayes that much.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Kemper. Daniels covered Hayes’s face with the blanket again, bowed his head and made a solemn promise, Matt, we’ll bring them home. I swear to you, and I swear I will find a way to take care of Hoshi. Hoshi Sato gripped the padded armrest of her command chair so hard that her nails left marks in the fabric. Admiral Archer’s new Warp 6 engine theoretically had a top speed of warp 6.1. Thanks to Phlox, Enterprise’s engines had been redlining at warp 6.3 for the past four hours, despite the computer problems that dogged Enterprise. Hoshi relied on her biofeedback techniques to hold the panic at bay. Columbia was in trouble, and despite the fact that Enterprise had been in orbit around Vulcan, Enterprise was still too far away. Hang on, Matt. Hang on, we’re coming. She refrained from asking Ensign T’Pol and Commander Phlox to coax more out of the engines. Despite Vulcan, Human and Denobulan ingenuity, she wasn’t going to exceed the safety limits any more and risk blowing out her own engine room. Again, she cursed the faulty software that plagued both ships. “Trip?” Trip Tucker’s voice lacked its usual accent, which was a bad sign. “Columbia’s task force has retreated from the Paan Mokar planetoid, but it looks like Columbia’s been hit pretty bad. Their entire engineering deck’s barely holding together. I’d guess their warp drive’s shot, and their impulse drive weak, if it’s working at all.” Hoshi nodded and hid her rising terror in her at her Armory Officer’s report. Ever since she’d heard from Captain Hernandez on the Devonshire, she’d worn out the carpet in her Ready Room with her pacing. Not even her crew’s words of reassurance soothed her restlessness. Hoshi told herself that she was being ridiculous. After all, Matt had escaped serious injury and death many times before, despite his career as an Armory Officer. But this was different. She couldn’t put her finger on the reason, but the nagging dread threatened to overwhelm her common sense. Then again, the situation on Vulcan was still a razor’s edge away from complete chaos. Minister T’Pau had regained control of the Vulcan High Command from Soultek and his cronies, but when they had heard about the assault on Paan Mokar, diplomatic relations between Vulcan and Andoria had broken down. It was a horrible mess. Jon Archer was still on Vulcan, trying to minimize the damage. Matt Hayes’s involvement in the matter complicated things; while the Vulcans claimed to understand familial obligations, they questioned Hayes’s—and Starfleet’s—objectivity. Hoshi looked over at Ensign T’Pol, who sat stiff-backed at the helm. She’d elected to come with Enterprise instead of staying on Vulcan with Jon and T’Les. Her only reason was, “I am needed.” Hoshi wasn’t about to turn down T’Pol’s expertise and steady calm. Ensign Murdo straightened at his comm board. “Commander Daniels on an Alpha Priority channel, Captain Sato. It's patched through the Andorian's comm system. He says its urgent, and he wants to talk to you and Lieutenant Commander Tucker.” “Commander Daniels, and not Captain Hayes?” Her breath stuck in her throat and she forced the dread away from her mind. It made sense that J.T. would have tried to regain some sort of communication, but... The Bridge crew’s eyes were all on her; she needed to be strong, for them and for Columbia’s crew. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up. Trip Tucker squeezed her shoulder; on her other side, Travis Mayweather stood there. There was a hiss and they all turned to see Doctor Malcolm Reed there in front of the turbolift.. His gray-blue eyes brimmed with pain and compassion. “I believe you shouldn’t be alone, Captain,” he said. “‘The needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many’,” quoted T’Pol. Then she added, “At certain times.” Hoshi glanced around the Bridge and every member of her crew nodded in agreement. She blinked back tears, then she said in a quiet tone, “Thank you all. Lieutenant Trace, you have the Bridge. Ensign Murdo, transfer Commander Daniels’s transmission to my Ready Room. Senior Officers, please come with me.” She trembled as she settled into her chair in front of the viewscreen. Trip pulled a chair next to her, while T’Pol, Malcolm and Travis sat nearby, but not in the screen’s range. Hoshi took a deep breath, reached over and hit the receive button. J.T.’s haggard face appeared on the screen; she stared at the visible tear tracks on his pale face, and the bloodshot eyes. J.T. Daniels, the “Human Vulcan”, never cried. The agony in his face confirmed her deepest fear. She reached out and touched his cheek on the screen. “J.T.” “God, Hoshi, I’m sorry. The assault team recovered Lady Jhamel and her daughter, but...he was covering their retreat and was less than two hundred meters away from the shuttlepod when...Matt fought back to the point where his phase rifle was completely drained...we think he tried to buy time for the others.” J.T. took a deep breath. “Your husband died trying to protect his people.” She stared at him in shock, unable to understand his words at first. No, she silently pleaded. No, please, don’t let it be true. Please, not Matt. God, not Matt... Hoshi wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep from falling apart, but the sorrow was too great to contain. Trip wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his shoulder as her body shook with sobs. Travis turned his face away; T’Pol’s expression was of stone, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. Malcolm closed his eyes in pain, but said nothing. Trip managed to sound somewhat steady. “The rest of the team, J.T...did any of them survive?” “We lost five people, not counting Matt. The Andorians took severe casualties. Trip...we’ve got reason to believe that the Vulcans might not be responsible for what happened down there.” “What?” Trip repeated. “You mean—“ Daniels shook his head once and Trip closed his mouth. “We picked up warp trails, but that was before the engine room blew and knocked out our electronics. They’re probably cold by now, but I can send the sensor readings we had to Travis and see what he can do with ‘em.” Off-screen, Travis nodded. Trip said, “I think that’s a good idea, J.T. We’ll find ‘em.” “Hoshi, you still there?” She lifted her tear-stained face from Trip’s shoulder. “I’m still here.” “If...when you want to come aboard...let me know, all right?” He hesitated, as if not knowing what else to say. “I—“ She tried to smile as she answered, “I will, J.T. Thank you.” He nodded, then cut the transmission. The senior staff waited, not making a sound. Hoshi straightened from Trip’s grasp; his tears slid unabashed down his face. She knew that Matt had saved him on Vulcan a decade before and now Trip was thinking, I shoulda been there. I shoulda helped...maybe he’d still be alive if... “Damn, I’m sorry,” Trip said. His voice shook as if he didn’t trust himself to speak any more. “Take all the time you need, Hoshi,” Travis said softly. “We’ll be here.” “Amen,” Malcolm added. His face was composed, but his eyes mirrored his sadness. Something in his expression made Hoshi’s heart cry out for him. She extended her hands and he took them. Malcolm squeezed them firmly, but didn’t object when she dropped his hands. T’Pol silently glided to Hoshi’s side and put her hands on either side of Hoshi’s face. “I grieve with thee,” she whispered in Vulcan. “I grieve with thee on the death of thy husband.” Warmth poured into Hoshi and eased the ache, just a little. She nodded and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Thank you. I just need a few moments alone, if you please.” “Do you want me to tell the crew, Hoshi?” Travis asked. “Please, Travis...I can’t.” He glanced at the others. “Come on, everyone. Let’s give her some privacy.” When the door closed behind them, she crumpled onto her desk, buried her head in her arms and cried her heart out. The Bridge crew turned as the senior officers returned to the Bridge. Lieutenant Trace jumped out of the command chair as if he’d been burned. They all saw the worst news confirmed in Commander Mayweather’s face. Crewman Buncombe clamped a hand over her mouth and turned back to the navigation board. Someone muttered an oath under his breath. Travis took a deep breath and said, “Ensign Murdo, give me all-call.” Murdo pushed a button and nodded at him to continue. “All hands, this is Commander Mayweather. It is with a heavy heart that I must relay this news...Captain Matthew Hayes was killed in action yesterday on Paan Mokar. He died protecting those under his watch, and we all owe him a great debt. Enterprise will assist Columbia in every way possible, and we will bring her crew home. Mayweather, out.” |
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