From: Erik (felldoh_at_voyager.net)
Date: Thu Apr 26 2007 - 19:17:35 PDT
“In the Dark” Cont’ from Rahul’s “Angst” =/\= Location: Karashi Nebula Stardate: 2.70426.2217 Scene: USS COLUMBIA Catherine felt restless in the silent, tomb-like shuttle. She knew that some of the tension was from her proximity to Kenta. But it didn't explain all of it. It took several minutes of introspection before she could put a finger on it. "It's so quiet." She whispered softly. It was true. Aside from the inspirations and expirations of the two inhabitants, and the occasional shifting of cloth, the shuttle was utterly devoid of sound. "It's quite amazing how much noise an engine makes." Catherine tiled her head, straining for any indication that there was life around them. But of course, there was nothing. Just a cold, chilling void. "It's eerie." "You spend enough time on a starship and you start to tune it out." Ben didn't smile, but contrary to her agitated state, he seemed quite settled and at peace. “I don’t even notice it until its not there anymore. She had always been surrounded by people, never really been alone in the middle of nowhere. It was a little frightening for her. "How can you be so calm?" Catherine got onto her feet and paced around the interior as much as the cramped room would let her. She was freezing, and a least the exercise would warm her a little. Ben shrugged. "It’s no use worrying." Kenta asked her as he resecured his blanket around his shoulders. It had finally gotten cold enough that he had yielded and wrapped himself in a blanket too. He knew that she would succumb to the cold before him, so he’d been trying to save the extras for her. Catherine continued to pace around energetically. The thermal blanket swirled and swished around her, almost snapping him in the face. "So you’re just going to sit there contemplating your impending death?" The moment she said it, her face blushed vermillion in embarrassment, and she winced. "Sorry." Kenta's eyes narrowed. "You're impatient.” He replied evenly, as she sat down, deflated. “You can't handle it when you’re not in control." She might be deflated, but she wasn't beaten, not yet. "You're standoffish, and you can't handle it when those under you aren't all good little officers, because you think it's so unprofessional and reflects a bad light on you." Catherine gasped in horror and clapped a hand across her mouth. "Oh my...I don't know why I even said that..." Her words were muffled. "Must have been the hypothermia." Kenta's mouth twisted into a wry grin. “You should keep moving around, it’ll help your temperature stay up.” He meant it, no matter how she was acting, her welfare was his responsibility and he intended to see she stayed alive as long as possible, just in case someone found them. She slowly got up to her feet and resumed pacing, knowing he was right, but not liking it. "So you think the way I treat junior officers is unreasonable?" Ben’s question surprised her, but she was secretly glad that he had chosen to continue the discussion rather then order her to shut up. Even if he did, she didn't know if she would listen. They were going to die, and the threat of disciplinary action tended to lose its bite. "I think you so upset you can't keep Maverick in line that you bully people like me." The Intelligence Liaison Officer responded in kind. "Really." He answered simply, leaning back against the wall, and folding his arms across his chest. "Come on, Commander. You haven't given me so much as the time of day without a look of disapproval." "What, you expect more? Words of praise? A medal? A promotion? You want me to invite you to dinner with my son and I?" He answered, finally giving her the satisfaction of some heat in his voice. “Lieutenant you betrayed everything I stand for. You didn’t respect the law, the system, or the lives of your crewmates. And the fact that you got away with it doesn’t mean I have to forgive you, it just means I have to try and make sure you don’t do anymore damage to my ship, or my crew.” "I saved your life." Catherine protested incredulously. She had nearly died protecting him from three genetically engineered soldiers. If Maverick hadn't pulled off that sniper shot, she *would* have died to protect him. "You're the one that jeopardised it in the first place." He shot down the argument with a clinical strike. “And what about Ensign Patricks?” he continued. “You didn’t save him.” She opened her mouth to object and then growled. "Enough!" The woman snapped. "We've gone through this so many times before; it's always the same arguments and the same conclusion. I did a horrible, horrible thing. I get it. How about you, don't you think you deserve your share of it?" She was contrite, normally. But at the moment, she was a dog with a bone. "Why? I had nothing to do with your decision. My only mistake was trusting you." Kenta may not have looked older then his years, but at times like this, he felt it. He sometimes felt that he was a rock in a sea, constantly being battered at. He couldn't afford to loose a piece of himself to the water, but he knew he was being eroded. Eaten away. Tiny piece by tiny piece. “You know I tried to talk the captain out of the additional security measures? I was the only one who was sure you wouldn’t run. I thought you’d follow protocol.” "There's more to life then protocol!" Catherine replied, maybe fractionally calmer now. She softly groaned though, realising just how incongruent that sounded. "Oh god, how ironic was that coming from me." *Ping* The hull of the shuttle echoed for a moment, and Catherine whipped her head around. "What was that?" It definitely didn't from inside the shuttle. "A piece of debris must have hit the shuttle, don’t worry about it" Kenta dismissed it out of hand and he pressed for further information. He didn't believe a word of it, but it was always interesting to get another's view on such things. "You were saying.” "A house is burning down, and you can hear a child screaming inside it for help. Protocol dictates that you do not enter an unsafe structure. No use losing two lives when you can only lose one." Sterling remarked. "You'll sit outside and let it burn because protocol told you to." "Is that what you think?" Kenta felt a little stung at the remark. It was a callous thing to say, and not true. He remembered a time when he’d broken protocol and risked his own life to get her out of a hostage situation, and wondered if she remembered it. "Maybe not that particular example, it was poorly chosen, but I think the result is still the same. We are so bound up in protocol, in rules and regs, have we lost the ability to think for ourselves, to think outside the square that binds us?" Ben sighed and was silent for a moment. "The rules are there for a reason. They aren’t just there because some pompous admiral decided to make things difficult for you. When the rules aren’t followed people die. That’s the bottom line. Even when it’s not obvious to you, they save lives. Even something as simple as the captain’s informal manner making an ensign think about her order for 10 seconds before doing it. In the wrong situation those 10 seconds could mean the difference between life and death for the entire ship. If you can't follow the rules, you don't belong here." He said gravely. "I quit now, I'm in prison." Catherine smiled, tilting her head to the side. "Or would you like that?" *Ping, ping, ping* They both ignored it this time, content to stare each other down, each side sticking to their beliefs to defy the other. Ben studied her with cold, piercing eyes. "Are you so blind to see how lucky you are?" He demanded of her softly. "No, I'm not. I know how lucky I am. Even being stuck in here, I know how lucky I am." Catherine replied honestly. She didn't deserve any of this. "But you never did answer me. Don't you think you deserve some of the blame for what happened?" "Why?" The wind taken out of her sails, she seemed to collapse in on herself a little. "You never asked me how I was." She told him calmly. "I worked on that Bridge for over a year. And you never asked me, or anyone else, how they were." "And yet, somehow none of them became fugitives." Ben said sarcastically, the most openly hostile she’d ever seen him. He stood to face her at eye level. “Are you honestly trying to shift your mistakes onto me? Take some responsibility.” *Thud* The shuttle lurched sickening as a big piece of debris crashed into the hull. Ben lost his balance and hurtled backwards. It was all Catherine could do to remain on her feet, and she was helpless to catch him as she rode out the severe lurch. Kenta hit the ground with an almighty thud as the shuttle settled down. "Oh great. Nice way to leave a conversation." Sterling untangled herself from the blanket and crouched down next to Ben. He was unconscious. Catherine reached over and grabbed the first aid kit, sitting down on the floor and gently cradling his head as she applied a pressure bandage to his head to stem the slow trickle of blood. "Why couldn't I be stuck here with Daniel instead?" She asked the unconscious man with a tired sigh. =/\= Location: USS PATRIOT Scene: Brig Kel nodded at the guard, who nodded at the officer at the desk, before the two pressed their respective buttons simultaneously, dropping the brig forcefield. He stepped inside and started to walk down the hall. “Cells 8 and 9.” The guard called after him. “We thought it’d be better if we separated them. “Thanks.” Kel answered. The security team had interrupted his interrogation before, and he was eager to finish it. He continued down the hall and stopped in front of the two occupied cells. They were adjacent, and he positioned himself so both could see him. “Alright boys,” He began, “Who can tell me what happened to my crewmate’s runabout?” “We don’t know anything about a runabout,” The shorter of the two answered. They were both Orion, and Kel had already guessed that this was the senior of the two, “Which we already told to the last guy who came in here.” That would have been someone from security, but it probably wasn’t a formal interrogation, and was unlikely to have turned up anything. “What about you?” Kel said moving so he was directly in front of the other cell. The taller Orion was practically shaking, but Kel wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger. “You think you’re safe, now that we’re out of the way, but you’re not. Not by a long shot.” Anger then. “Take it easy, Arjo.” The other Orion’s voice came through the wall. “We’re just a scout patrol. They’ll come after us. You have no idea what’s in store for you.” Arjo continued his voice almost gleeful. “Shut Up!” the other Orion yelled this time, slamming his hand against the shared wall of their cells. Arjo fell silent, and looked almost embarrassed. Kel squatted to look at the seated prisoner at eye level. “Go on.” =/\= Scene: USS COLUMBIA Ben groaned softly at the incessant thudding of his head. “Take it easy, you managed to crack your head open.” He heard Catherine’s voice and felt a hand pressed against the back of his head. Kenta forced his eyes open, and didn’t see much of anything. “What happened to the lights?” He squinted and passed a hand over his eyes, hoping to hell that it wasn’t from being knocked out. “I can’t see a single thing.” “They died about ten minutes ago.” Catherine replied and released her hands from cradling his head on her legs and allowed him to sit up. “I don’t think they’re coming back.” She told him. Ben felt something on his face as he sat up. “Why is my cheek wet?” He wiped away the liquid. “Must be condensation dripping from the ceiling.” Catherine replied grimly. Kenta’s head was still ringing. He braced himself against the floor for a moment before reaching out with questing fingers and encountering a freezing wall of steel. He was near the hull of the shuttle. The executive officer felt along the wall. “It’s cold.” Catherine sighed, still kneeling on the metal floor. She didn’t have the energy to move. “Can’t feel it any more. It’s so cold it’s warm.” The woman muttered. “You okay?” Ben found his bunk and lifted his body onto it, collapsing onto his back. “No. I’m not okay.” She replied. Sterling slowly made her way to her bench and sunk down on it carefully. Her body was cold and hot simultaneously, her joints stiff as if sand had replaced the fluid in them. Her muscles taunt in painful contractures. She just wanted this misery over with. They were dying; slowly and painfully. She had always expected to go out in some violent fashion. This was a disappointment. “You need to keep moving.” Ben said without moving himself. “No use.” She answered calmly. “I can barely move as it is and it’ll only get worse.” Catherine curled up into a ball under her blankets resting her head on her arm to keep it from the cold surface. Ben lifted himself to his shoulders, intending to help her, but dizziness forced him back down. They remained in silence for an eternity. Only their breaths made any noise in their tomb. They were too tired to even move. Staying awake was becoming increasingly difficult too. As much as they had thoughts about giving up, the drive to survive was a strong one. Where they would gratefully fall into a sleep, their minds would force them awake. Anything to keep aware of the passage of time. Kenta dozed quietly, dreaming of the past, and imagining things that could have been. Catherine’s voice interrupted his reverie. "I'm tired of failing. I've failed you, and by extension, this crew. I've failed my husband." He turned his head, even though he couldn't see a hand in front of his nose, he turned his head towards the voice. "Clarkson?" He asked, rousing his mind to understand the conversation. She was silent for so long, he wondered if she had fallen asleep. But no, her voice was soft, and slower then usual. "He is such a wonderful person. Noble, kind, wise. I love him, I absolutely love him. But, he expects from me what I can't allow myself to give him." He heard a sigh. "He's trying..." She moved, a muted thud echoed through the shuttle, as if Catherine had smacked the back of her hand against the hull. "...he's trying to change me, to make me more 'human', more sensitive, and loving and caring." Ben took a breath and exhaled. He kept breathing, not commenting, holding his patience. "I hate him for it." She confessed. Catherine closed her eyes, wiping at the tears there. Thankful that in the darkness, Kenta would never know. She knew it didn't matter; it wasn't like he was going to say. But she respected him. As much as she was afraid of Kenta, she respected him. And what he thought mattered to her. So Catherine used the darkness to hide the physical signs of sadness "He wants me to think like the rest of you do. To care about the sanctity of human life, to cherish it and rejoice in it. It's not who I am. It's not what I am. I am a warrior, a fighter, a solider and even a murderer. I'm neither evil nor good. I am just me. Daniel is trying so hard to instil a sense of right and wrong in me, that I'm afraid that it's working." Sterling didn't even know why she was telling him this. But the words were slipping from her lips with scant regard to her thoughts. They were uncensored, and unpoliced. "Why is that so bad?" Kenta asked, feeling his curiosity stirring from its lethargic slumber. "How can I protect him, or you, or this ship if I hesitate in my job because I'm concerned of hurting something?" There was a faint note of bitterness in her voice; bitterness with a touch of fear and anger. It was a recipe for conflict. "How can I have children when I don't even think I can protect them when I have to?" There was a snort in the darkness, a loud report in the quiet shuttle. "I cannot afford to question myself, or to hesitate. If I do that, I've failed. Every action has to be definitive, precise, calculated. If I have remorse for what I do, then how can I take the course of action I need to, rather then the one I want to?" She sounded stronger, her anger giving her a jolt of energy. She fed off it, used it to sustain herself just a little longer. "He wants me. But this is a part of me. As much as an arm, or a leg, it is so intrinsic to my nature, without it, I cease to be me..." She groaned softly, lapsing back into quietness. "...I just don't know anymore. It used to be so simple. But he wants something from me that I don't know if I can ever give to him." "Am I not contemptuous?" She asked him. Ben thought about it. He had learnt a lot about Catherine in the last day or so. And she had learnt a lot about him. It was the one, and possibly only place, where they had communicated everything freely. There were no secrets. There was no biting back of words. Everything that could be expressed was expressed. "You’re asking me that?" He answered, trying to convey his invisible smile through his voice. She laughed softly. "I think that bump to the head was a little harder then you think." =/\= Location: USS PATRIOT Scene: Bridge T’ial walked onto the bridge confidently, and stood before the Captain. “The engineers sent me to report that it will take several hours to fully repair the STAR RIDER, but they can have her operating safely but with reduced shields, and a few nonessential systems suspended in less than one.” Helice didn’t look happy. She didn’t like sending the ship out with reduced defences, but time was their limiting factor, and she wasn’t sure Ben and Catherine could afford to wait. “Thank you T’ial. Tell them I need her back out there as soon as possible.” “Yes, Captain.” T’ial replied. “There’s no need for that.” The CO smiled. “Call me Helice.” “Yes…Helice.” The Vulcan said, almost tentatively. “There is something else. I have developed a revised search plan, based on the location of our attacker, and the trajectory of the piece of shuttle debris I saw.” She handed Helice a PADD with the details. The captain smiled again. “Very good, T’ial. Tellah, would you please transmit this to our support craft.” She said, handing the plan over to the Operations Officer. =/\= Scene: USS COLUMBIA "They're not going to find us." Catherine stated calmly. The woman sounded like she was slightly inebriated, and even felt it. Reality was distorted, time had shifted. She was beyond shivering and well into apathy. The two blankets that covered her weren't keeping her as warm. It was just too cold in the shuttle compartment. Ice crystals had started to form all around the shuttle's interior. "No, probably not." Ben replied in a similar tone of voice. He had calculated the odds to somewhere around 14 million to one that the Patriot would find them. Maybe 7 million to one that any other ship would find them, including their aggressors. The outcome was getting bleak. "We are going to freeze to death in this box. It's just a matter of time." Starvation or dehydration didn't even figure into the equation. They would far more likely freeze then starve. She had less then 12 hours. Ben, if he took care of himself may survive another beyond that. They fell silent for a while. The only interruptions were the occasional ping as a piece of debris banged against the unprotected shuttle's hull, or the creak and groan as its metal hull contracted with the temperature. "Any regrets?" Catherine asked Kenta curiously. She was tired, her eyes felt like laden rocks. The only way she could keep herself awake was to talk. Probably to Kenta's disgust. Not that she cared anymore. The Executive Officer sighed and buried his head under the blanket for a moment. Catherine was bored and she was prying. The problem was that he really didn't have the heart to order her to be quiet. So, he took a breath and began to speak. "We always have regrets, Catherine. Things we could have done, and things we should have done, but for whatever reason, never had the means or courage to do so." He replied, tucking the folds of the thermal blanket around himself to prevent heat escaping. If she had the energy, she would have given him a rather pointless withering look. "Don't tell me what regret is. I know very well the definition of regret. I'm asking you if you have any." Kenta grimaced. "Yes." He admitted, but didn't further elaborate his answer. "Getting anything out of you is like squeezing blood from a stone." Catherine snorted in disgust. He was making dying a miserable experience. "There’s no point in talking about it." “Well, is there a point in not talking about it?” She countered. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Ben said pointedly, feeling his temper fraying. She was so child-like in her asking for such personal insight into him, and enough adult-like to press, coerce, and even force him to answer. "Who am I going to tell?" Sterling’s lips curled into a brief, invisible smile and dared him to give a logical rebuttal. Kenta sighed again. He seemed to do a lot of that with her. "That's not the point." He replied, keeping his temper in check. It wouldn't do any good to rant or rave. It would just waste more energy then he could afford. The genetically engineered soldier's gaze softened in the darkness. "I've been open with you. I've told you things that I haven't even dared to tell Daniel. A little bit of reciprocation would be welcome." She had. Unbidden, she had told Ben everything about her life. At least she knew that he wouldn't judge her for it. She had begun at the start, from the time she had become aware: the brutal and violent training process that lasted for months. On completion, she had then told him about the missions she had been a part of. The people she had remorselessly murdered, the death and destruction she had caused as a part of a New Order unit, to accomplish their goals. They destroyed space ships that had ventured into their territory, they had destroyed colonies who had dared to establish on an outlying planet. They had participated in many attacks, raids. Mostly on innocent, indefensible people. It took her a while, but she slowly began to learn that their life perhaps was not as pure as they had been told. The disillusionment that followed, and the harrowing escape and then the desperate asylum bid to the Federation. For the first four years of her brief life, she had known nothing by death, pain, discipline, strength, callousness. Only to come to the Federation and learn there was more to life. Love, freedom, romance, individuality. The wind on her face brought her such joy it was indescribable. It was a whole new life. She didn't want his sympathy, or his empathy. She just wanted to give him the knowledge so that he might understand her better. And now that she had been so open, she wanted Ben to respond in kind. "You're always so cold, and professional. You're like a robot, only programmed for one task and that is their work. But you're not a robot, you're human. Which means that behind the professional facade is a person. A person that I suspect very few people see. I don't want to know about your professional life, that's an open book. I want to know about you, the man behind the mask." Catherine cajoled him gently. The man reached down and after some fumbled searching in the pitch darkness, found and scooped up a flask of water and took a couple of sips. It had almost turned to ice, and it was painful doing down. "Why is it so important to you?" He asked her as he coughed and a shiver raced up his spine. Sterling watched him through half-lidded eyes. "Because everyone is human, everyone is fallible, including you, but you never let us see that side of you, the fallible side, the human side. We know it exists, but you refuse to show it. It makes you unreachable. When we make a mistake, we are fallible. And we can't come to you because you don't have that side. We're afraid that you won't understand. We will be dealt with to the letter of the law, but legal punishment is sometimes not the answer. We also need humanity, empathy, understanding; and we can't get it from you." She answered softly. “If you can’t come to me, go to a counsellor, that’s their job.” Ben answered flatly. “My job *is* to be infallible. When things get rough the crew needs to know that I can get them through it, and if they just do their jobs and follow orders, we’ll all get through it fine.” “I’d expect you of all people to understand that.” He continued. “Your commander in the New Order didn’t ask you how you were doing. He wasn’t empathetic and understanding, because that’s not what makes a soldier, and that’s not what wins battles. People seem to forget it sometimes but Starfleet is a military organisation. Sure we’re boldly going where no man has gone before and all that, but that’s not why we spend years training to use weapons, to fight hand to hand, to keep our bodies in peak shape, to learn basic medical skills, to learn how to take orders and follow the rules. We are soldiers, just like the New Order unit you belonged to. Just because the military you serve now is a little more compassionate, doesn’t mean you’re going to be coddled like some grade school kid. You told me earlier that at your core you’re still a soldier, but you don’t act like one. You weren’t a soldier when you ran away, and you aren’t one now.” Catherine was taken aback. It was the last bit of criticism she’d ever expected. Ben heard her breath catch at the end of his tirade, and didn’t hear it release. He worried she’d lost consciousness or worse. “Catherine?” He said to the dark, once again rising to his elbows. The dizziness returned so severely that he nearly swooned, and had to fight the urge to empty his stomach. He wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m still here.” She answered weakly. “I was just thinking about what you said.” “Do you think you can make it to me?” “Why?” she asked, concerned. “Are you okay?” “No.’ he said simply. “But it’s not me I’m worried about. You’re badly hypothermic, and I’m not that far behind. I should have said this earlier, but I’m not thinking straight. I must have a concussion.” “Ok.” She said. “I’m coming.” She found that she too had trouble standing. She decided walking was probably out of the question, and instead chose to crawl, until she reached the wall and could use it to help her climb into his bunk. He helped her arrange all three blankets atop them both. “Don’t take this the wrong way.” Ben said as he slid her uniform up and felt her bare stomach with his arm. “Why did you do that?” she asked, confused. “You feel cold. It means I’ve still got quite a bit more body heat than you. When the body gets hypothermic one of the first things that happens is blood retreats from the hands, so using them wouldn’t have been a good test.” He was reciting almost as much to himself as her, trying to keep himself focused on the task. “Take your uniform off.” He said as he started to do the same. “What?’ “I’m sure your husband won’t mind if it means you’re still alive for him to find you.” Ben replied trying to make his voice light. Catherine did as she was told. She felt awkward, but when she felt the comparative warmth of his body, she couldn’t help but nestle up to it. Ben put his arm around her, and positioned his head so his breath would naturally fall on her neck, knowing it was the least naturally insulated place on her body that still mattered. He began to shiver more. He knew this move was detrimental to his chances of surviving. She would lower his temperature far faster than the air alone, but she needed hear now, or she wouldn’t last much longer, and if she died he didn’t care if he lived 10 hours more or only one. Besides there was a small chance that their temperatures would stabilize at a point where the insulation of the blankets might let them both last. For awhile. “Keep making me talk.” Ben said. Catherine almost laughed. “Is that an order?” “If I have a concussion I shouldn’t fall asleep again.” He answered, sounding slightly exasperated. “I need you to help me stay awake.” She knew he wanted her to stay awake too. “Alright.” She said with a smile. “Tell me about your regrets.” =/\= Scene: USS COUNTERSTRIKE Daniel sat with his fingers tapping anxiously on the arm of the command chair. He tried so hard to keep worry from his face and voice that it was manifesting in less obvious ways. “Captain, I have a report from Foxtrot Three. He says his sensors have picked up what might be a ship.” “Is it Federation?” Daniel answered quickly, unconsciously sitting up straight in his chair. “There is no way to tell from this range.” Daniel leaned back again, reverting to an officer, ready to make a decision. “Inform the PATRIOT, and reform the fighters in a defensive position. As soon as we get the go ahead lay in a course.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NRPG: Will they find Ben and Catherine, or more bad guys? Up to whoever posts next anything is fair game. Naomi Lara Lt. J.G. Catherine Sterling-Jade Intelligence Operative USS PATRIOT And Lieutenant Tellah ‘Cal’ Callishendrack’Hylarmarishnakaashanah Chief of Operations USS PATRIOT And Commodore Teneill Danara-Bennow Deputy Chief of Starfleet Intelligence & Erik Walz Commander Benjamin Kenta Executive Officer USS PATRIOT 5781-A & Lt. Seloron Junior ACT Instructor Starfleet Academy, Earth From HyperNews_at_youth.net
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