The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [14]
The doors to sickbay flew open. Security Chief Yar sped through the portal with Riker and Captain Picard on her heels. At the sight of the man grappling with Crusher, Yar pulled out her phaser.
“No.” Dr. Crusher moved to block Yar’s line of sight. “He’s badly hurt. Even a stun blast could kill him.”
Captain Manin took advantage of the doctor’s distraction and lunged toward Deelor. Picard jumped between the two men, forearm raised to ward off a swinging fist, but the blow never came. Manin staggered to a halt after one step. Picard caught him as he collapsed, then gently lowered him to the floor.
“Lie still. You’ll only hurt yourself,” urged Picard, but the sound of his voice increased the man’s agitation.
“It wasn’t my fault,” gasped Manin with labored breath. “I followed his orders. Starfleet made me.”
“Quiet!” Deelor warned. “I order you to be quiet.”
Crusher knelt down beside Picard and examined the man cradled in the captain’s arms. “Help me get him under the scanner.” They moved quickly, lifting the limp body onto the bed of the diagnostic machine, but the doctor could see Manin weakening by the second. The panel that closed down over his chest emitted a frantic electronic chatter. “He’s started to hemorrhage again.”
Calling out for medical assistance, Crusher tracked a path of widespread tissue damage in the liver, spleen, and kidneys. “Tissue factor,” she demanded, and the nurse slipped a hypo into Crusher’s palm. The doctor administered the clotting agent to a vein in his neck, but the bleeding continued. A second dose thickened the blood, but it continued to fill his chest cavity. There would be no third dose. An additional injection would coagulate his entire circulatory system.
Oblivious to Crusher’s efforts, the captain of the Ferrel clutched at Picard’s arm. The grip lacked force, but Picard let himself be pulled closer. “Full mission control … to a damn bureaucrat.”
“Shut up, Manin!” Deelor pushed himself away from the wall and staggered toward the table, but Lieutenant Yar still had her phaser drawn. She swung the weapon toward him. Deelor stopped, swaying unsteadily in place. “You’re violating Starfleet security.”
Crusher knew her patient was too weak to withstand surgical invasion. She would have tried anyway except his vital organs had been reduced to pulp and there was nothing left to operate on. Instead, she requested a drug that would ease his pain.
Manin’s voice had dropped to a whisper. Picard leaned closer, straining to hear. Only one word was clear.
“Hamlin?” Picard echoed. “What about Hamlin?” There was no reply. The hand fell away from Picard’s sleeve.
“You fool!” Oblivious to Yar’s warning cry, Deelor closed the distance to Manin’s bedside. “I’ll have you stripped of your command for this breach.”
“He can’t hear you.” Dr. Crusher switched off the medical unit above the still body. “He’s dead.”
Chapter Four
Captain’s Log, supplemental: The events surrounding the destruction of the USS Ferrel are still shrouded in mystery. We beamed aboard thirty people from a ship that should have carried hundreds. And not one of those thirty will tell us why their ship was attacked.
THE BRIDGE LOUNGE had been designed to provide a sense of well-being to those who used it. Cushioned chairs circled an oval table of generous proportions; wide, gently curving windows lined the outside wall, presenting a breathtaking panorama of jeweled stars. A dozen people could sit around the table without feeling confined, but only four entered now.
“Counselor, are you feeling all right?” asked Picard. Troi had sunk into the comforting embrace of a wide chair and immediately closed her eyes.
Her dark lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes again. “I’m a little tired,” she admitted reluctantly. “My contacts with the Farmers and the survivors