Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [14]
The colors are touching me
Im caught in the glass
I can see the seconds
Help me. Help me …
Chekov had understood that morning why Captain Kirk had not wanted to come aboard the Enterprise-B.
Chekov had not wanted to either; he had seen no good reason to sit aboard a starship feeling useless. Yet like the captain, he had not been able to stay away.
But the moment Kirk had taken command of the ship, Chekov felt an overwhelming sense of exhilaration. For the first time in a year, he felt a sense of purposea sense of rightness, of belongingwhich he had not experienced since retirement, so he did not hesitate to take charge of sickbay. His emergency medical training as head of security aboard the Reliant would serve him now in good stead.
He hesitated in the doorway to sickbay for only an instant, then came to himself and quickly located diagnostic scanners. He handed one to each of the journalists, one male, one female, both Terranwith brief instructions.
Before he finished, the ship gave a sudden lurch, flinging them against a nearby bulkhead. Good lord! the man cried out, his scanner clattering to the floor as Chekov collided against him. What was that?
Chekov regained his footing quickly, scooped up the scanner, and handed it back to the man, who simply stared back in fear.
Take it, he ordered. Weve got to get moving
The womans eyes were wide. But what was that? Do you think the energy ribbon
The ship shuddered again; she dropped her scanner and clung to the bulkhead.
It doesnt matter what it is, Chekov said shortly. Well leave that to those on the bridge. These people need our help. And at the dull, frightened stares that replied, he thundered, exasperated, Dont think. Just move, with such force that the two finally retrieved their scanners and followed him into the moaning crowd.
Dont make me go; please, let me stay …
Im caught, let me go
Help me. Someone, help me …
Its all right, Chekov soothed. He crouched down beside a beautiful, ageless woman with long auburn hair who seemed unharmed. Her sorrowful pale eyes never focused on him, but remained fixed on some far distant point. Its all right. Miss … maam … can you hear me?
She did not reply, did not seem at all aware of his presence as he quickly ran the scanner over her. Nothing serious, just some bruised ribs. The same held true for the next survivorthe same near-catatonia, a few scrapes. By the third patient, Chekov looked over at the male journalist, who was tending a slightly wounded victim beside him.
Only minor injuries so far, he said, and the man gave a nod to indicate he had found the same; two El Aurians down, the female reporter rose and nodded in agreement. Chekov continued, But it looks like theyre all suffering from some kind of neural shock.
What would cause it? the woman asked. The stress of being attacked?
As she spoke her male cohort made his way to another patient sitting on a biobed, a pale man with an even paler shock of silvery hair and eyes that made Chekov think of a candle blazing too fiercely. A thread of bright blood crossed the center of the mans forehead to the bridge of his nose, then curved beneath one eye and down his cheek.
Probably not, Chekov answered. At least, not a mass reaction like this. Perhaps the energy ribbon
Why? the pale man suddenly shrieked. Chekov turned to see the slender E1 Aurian grabbing the much larger journalist by his shoulders and pulling him close. Why?
At the insane desperation in the wounded mans eyes, Chekov quietly hurried over to a supply cabinet.
The reporter wisely remained calm and did not struggle in the El Aurians grip. Its all right, he said soothingly. Youre safe. Youre on the Enterprise.
No … The word was a ragged sob, a plea; the bleeding man tightened his grip dangerously on the reporter. I have to goI have to get back! You dont