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"The Needs of the Many" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG13 Please R&R! I’d like to see some reviews! I’d really like to hear my readers’ opinions about the storylines. Thanks! Eleven 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, Kelby, and the rest of the engineering crew, 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; despite Phlox’s efforts, the danger was still very real. “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.” The engineering crew stared at their screens as Enterprise dropped out of warp in the Paan Mokar system. Phlox was as speechless as the rest of them as they had their first glimpse of the damage Columbia had suffered. The starboard side of the engineering deck had been gutted; the ragged gash extending close to the entire length of the ship. It was a miracle that Columbia hadn’t been completely destroyed. “Gesu,” murmured one of the crewmen. “Chief?” Rostov’s voice was hushed. “Michael?” “Take a look at the initial scans, sir.” Rostov pointed the details on a secondary screen. “The explosion ripped Columbia from the inside out, not from the outside in. They didn’t hit any of the orbital platforms; it came from within their Engineering section.” Phlox stifled a Denobulan curse. Suddenly, he understood what must have happened. The programmed failsafes must have failed, which meant that Columbia’s warp engine must have become so unbalanced that even Chief Engineer Opur couldn’t control it. He thought, How many people have died in the disaster? Is Opur even alive? Kelby muttered an obscenity under his breath, one that Phlox hadn’t heard before, but one that he understood—and sympathized with—completely. He heard Commander Mayweather’s voice from the comm. “Engineering? Commander Phlox?” Phlox crossed over to the speaker. “Phlox,” he said, his tone still hushed. “I take it you’re seeing what we’re seeing,” said Travis. “Indeed, Commander. The damage is extensive.” “Commander Daniels reports that three-fourths of their Engineering crew died in the blast.” Mayweather’s report caused a stir within Enterprise’s engineers. “He requests that we provide as much assistance as we can.” “He will have it,” Phlox promised. There were nods all around in agreement. “I’m transferring you to Lieutenant Salvatore, their temporary chief engineer. Coordinate repairs with his team.” “Acknowledged, Commander.” Phlox said. He glanced at his own team. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get moving. They need us.” There were cries of affirmation all around, and the engineers scattered into their repair parties, just as they’d practiced the past six months. Phlox felt a thrill of pride for his department, then proceeded to talk to Lieutenant Salvatore on the comm. Jarvis Pryor stared at the screen as a horde of shuttlepods surrounded Columbia’s battered hulk. He heard Trip Tucker’s voice telling him about what had happened, but he didn’t comprehend the words. The pure carnage shocked him to the core. He was a software engineer, for God’s sake, not a killer! But his efforts—and those of his compatriot on Columbia, Ensign Mori Klees, had killed fifteen people. And that didn’t count the casualties on the surface of Paan Mokar, which included Captain Hayes, Captain Sato’s husband. “Look at your handiwork, Mister Pryor,” Tucker said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Your tampering with the computer codes caused this. Ensign Klees wasn’t the only one to die; Commander Opur and thirteen other engineers died as well.” Pryor swallowed hard; he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight. “They told us that it was temporary...just enough to discredit the Andorians and the Vulcans...we can’t trust them, Lieutenant Commander, they want to undermine Earth—“ Tucker grabbed him by the jaw and forced Pryor to look him straight in the eye. Pryor shuddered at the cold rage within the Armory officer’s blue eyes. There was no trace of the affable Southerner, with whom Pryor was familiar. Tucker was every inch the avenging angel. After all, he’d been close friends with Commander Opur and Captain Hayes, and both men were now dead. “You’re part of Terra Prime.” It wasn’t a question. Pryor swallowed again, but he couldn’t reply, for fear closed his throat. Tucker’s tone was a low growl, but what scared him was the utter lack of emotion. It was as if Tucker had become Vulcan himself. “Boss,” said Lieutenant Trace. The second-in-command’s voice held a note of warning, and perhaps, a bit of his own fear. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant, I won’t kill him, though he certainly deserves it,” Tucker said. The charming accent was completely absent, so the Armory officer sounded like a completely different man. Pryor trembled even harder within the iron grip. “What I want, Pryor, is for you to tell me everything you know about your connections with Terra Prime. Who your contacts are, what their plans are, where they’ve got reinforcements. If you decide not to, well, I’ll be here until you talk, and believe me, we’ve got all the time in the world. Not like Opur and Hayes and the other people you killed.” The blue eyes did not break eye contact. “So, what’ll it be?” Pryor’s mouth opened and closed several times, then like water through a floodgate, he began to talk, and he talked for a long time. And he told Tucker everything. |
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