“C-c-come on, C-Commander Salazar, w-we’ve got to g-get you to s-sickbay!” Fenton gasped as he carried her through the twisted, sparking corridor. His stutter was so prominent, and he was frustrated at hearing it coming through. Sweat plastered his tousled brown hair to his forehead, and the cuts along his arms stung with each jolt of the Whirlwind. His lean, athletic frame strained under her weight, but he refused to let it slow him down.
Salazar groaned, clutching at his shoulder, her long brown hair falling in waves around her face, streaked with blood and dust. Shrapnel had torn into her side, staining her uniform as she fought to stay upright. Her dark, expressive eyes, usually blazing with authority and fire, flickered with pain, but there was still that spark of defiance. “Ollie, you should have left me after that EPS conduit blew and sent me across aft torpedo control.” Her voice was sharp, fierce, and trembling only slightly. She knew she might be being too dramatic with the Chief Operations Officer, but she was in too much agony and didn’t feel like she could go on much further. “You’d have been safer if you’d left me there.”
Fenton’s lips trembled as he forced a grin through the panic. “If-if I left you, who-who else would t-tell me to s-stop g-getting the ship wet every time I leave the pool or the holodeck?” His muscles burned as he shifted her weight to keep her from slipping.
Salazar let out a short, ragged laugh, grimacing at the movement. “It’s only been two days since I last told you off for walking around in your trunks on deck four, and I’m sure you’ll be back at it by tomorrow, lieutenant.”
“Well…” Fenton’s grin wavered as he dodged a hanging piece of conduit. “The Khwopian prince and the Xindi-Aquatic singer I once dated, they got me used to wearing barely anything. And the singer, well, she’d sometimes adjust the transporter beam herself when I visited her ship to, uh, remove my clothing.”
Salazar shook her head, a small smile tugging at her bloodied lips. “You’ve really had a colourful romantic history, haven’t you?” She tilted her head, letting one dark eyebrow rise. “And you never learned restraint?”
Fenton laughed nervously, sweat mixing with grime on his freckled face. “I, uh…I’ve been, well, exposed to a lot of diverse situations. I won’t tell you what happened with the Ferengi twins during a Betazoid wedding.” He swallowed, trying to steady his arms. “But not getting on the bad side of someone’s other half is… y-you know, priority one.”
Her lips twitched at his flustered honesty. “You really need to find someone nice to settle down with, lieutenant. Someone who won’t adjust your clothing remotely, or insist you walk around in the nude.”
“What, like you and Doctor Dorin, ma’am?” Fenton asked, grinning through his sheer determination to save the commander’s life.
Salazar’s eyes softened just a fraction as she nodded. “She may be too blunt sometimes, but she’s the best.” She adjusted herself slightly as she tried to hold onto her cut tighter. “Just be ready for her to lose it when she sees me like this in sickbay. She’s not subtle when it comes to seeing me injured. I’ll need your protection and back-up the moment we step into sickbay.”
“I’ll remind you, ma’am, but you’re Chief Security and Tactical Officer, not me. If anyone does protection well on this ship, that’s you.” Fenton said, bracing against a fallen support beam, his arms trembling as he shifted her weight.
“Thanks,” she muttered, sarcasm dripping from the word. “For your protection. And loyalty.”
Fenton chuckled, ducking under another sparking conduit. “I know you’re my superior officer, commander, but I’m not getting on the bad side of Doctor Dorin, especially during an emergency like this.”
Salazar’s lips curved in a brief, weary smile, though her eyes remained sharp and commanding. “That’s fair, very fair!”
Fenton burst into sickbay with Salazar pressed tightly against him, sweat and blood streaked across both their uniforms. The room was in chaos. So many crewmembers groaning on biobeds, med-techs and nurses rushing between them with tricorders and hyposprays, the harsh hum of medical equipment punctuated by occasional alarms. Sheets covered some beds, hinting at the dead lying beneath.
Doctor Dorin’s sharp Ikaaran features were tense as she hovered over Lieutenant Kimas, the Akoszonam pilot, carefully treating her head. Her long, black hair shimmered under the harsh lighting.
“Ollie! Angelica!” Dorin barked, eyes flicking between the two of them and the work she was still performing on Kimas. She quickly stabilised the pilot, then darted toward them. “What the hell happened?”
Fenton struggled to catch his breath, glancing down at Salazar’s wounds. “W-we were in the aft launchers to fire the last remaining torpedoes manually at the Vaadwaur ship. We destroyed it…b-but their exploding hull hit the Whirlwind while shields were down. E-explosions everywhere… and an EPS conduit blew. Commander Salazar got flung across the control room. She’s got s-s-shrapnel deep in her. I didn’t move it!” His voice broke slightly.
Dorin didn’t hesitate, grabbing Salazar’s arm and helping Fenton carry her to the nearest open biobed. “No, you did the right thing, lieutenant. Help me carry her over there.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Salazar insisted, wincing as she shifted her weight.
Dorin’s lips twitched in a sarcastic half-smile. “For someone who just flew across a room and took shrapnel to the side? Yes, of course, my love.” She guided her down gently. “Lie down.”
“Wait,” Salazar said, her voice firm despite the blood. “I need to know the status of the crew.”
Dorin’s gaze sharpened. “You’ll know the status when you lie down. That’s an order!”
With a heavy sigh, Salazar finally relented and allowed herself to sink onto the bed, gritting her teeth against the pain.
“Numerous dead,” Dorin said bluntly, sweeping her tricorder over her wife’s body. “We’ve got too many injured to keep up with, to be honest. Too many for us to handle right now. I’ve got no operational E-M-H either.”
Salazar’s brow furrowed. “And Kimas?”
Dorin’s face softened fractionally. “She’s stable for now, but I’ve had to put her into a coma. She’s suffered severe head trauma. She was beamed down from the bridge after the helm exploded.”
Fenton’s shoulders tensed. “Have we heard from the bridge? We couldn’t reach anyone after we fired the last salvo of torpedoes.”
Dorin’s jaw tightened. She exhaled slowly, meeting his gaze. “The bridge, well, it’s gone.”
Salazar’s eyes widened in disbelief. Fenton staggered back a step.
Dorin’s voice was steady, cold in its truth. “Before you destroyed the Vaadwaur ship, they fired a spray of polaron bursts from their forward cannons. It hit the bridge, causing a significant hull breach. Everyone was blown out into space almost instantly.” Dorin turned to her wife. “Angelica, you’re the highest-ranking officer left alive. That makes you the acting captain.”
Salazar’s shoulders slumped; the weight of command pressing down on her like gravity itself. Hearing that so many of their comrades were gone was overwhelming.
Dorin continued, working on a torn sleeve and bloodied uniform. “Main engineering was hit hard, too. Some engineers survived, but they reported that the quantum slipstream drive and warp drive had to be ejected to prevent breaches. To add to all of that, one of them mentioned that we’re drifting toward a plasma storm.”
Fenton swallowed hard, looking between the two women. “What can I do to help?”
Salazar’s eyes met Dorin’s, an unspoken understanding passing between them. She exhaled slowly. “Establish command of the ship and stabilise what we’ve got left working, and launch the distress beacon. Maybe there’s someone out there who is nice enough to help us.”
Fenton hesitated. “O-okay, ma’am. And what if the ship can’t be saved, what then?”
Salazar’s voice was firm, heavy with responsibility. “Order the crew to the escape pods and whatever other auxiliary craft we’ve got left. Abandon the ship if necessary. Do whatever it takes to save everyone.”
Fenton’s eyes flicked to Dorin. “But ma’am, Doctor Dorin outranks me; she’s a lieutenant commander, I’m just a lieutenant junior grade. I can’t issue a command like that.”
“Mister Fenton, if you’ve not seen,” Dorin snapped, hands coated in blood as she worked swiftly over Salazar’s wounds. “I’m up to my elbows in blood and organs. You will need to take command while she’s out of it and while I’m trying to save our injured comrades.”
Fenton swallowed, his chest tight, then nodded. “Y-y-yes, ma’am. I’ll get to work.”
Salazar’s gaze softened briefly despite the pain. “Good. Do whatever it takes to save our crew, Ollie.”
“I’ll do my best, but promise me, ma’am, you’ll come back to us?”
Smirking slightly at the young officer, Salazar took in a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll do my best, plus who else will tell you off for your post-water sport antics?”
Fenton grinned at that and quickly left sickbay, almost bumping into the doorway as he spun around.
Salazar let out a shaky breath, wincing as Dorin’s fingers pressed along the ragged edges of her uniform. “I—uh, I might be a little late with the roses this time,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, meant only for Dorin.
Dorin paused, her stern expression softening as she glanced up. “Late with the roses?” Her lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. “My darling wife, I’ll forgive you for not bringing them this time. We’ve got plenty on our hands to deal with.”
Salazar let herself relax fractionally under Dorin’s touch, a fleeting smile tugging at her bloodied lips. “I… I’ll make it up to you. Once we survive this…”
“Just stay alive for me!” Dorin said, her voice low and intimate, fingers brushing against Salazar’s sleeve as she applied a careful seal over the wound. “I have high standards for being spoiled that only you can do.”
Salazar’s gaze softened, dark eyes holding a warmth that had been buried beneath her authority and pain. “Thank you, and you know that I wouldn’t have you any other way. Now get this damn fragment out of my side, that’s an order, doctor!”
“Yes, captain!” Dorin’s stern professional exterior returned just after she emphasised her wife’s new interim position.
Even amidst the chaos, there was a quiet, steady reassurance that they would survive this together.
They hoped.
