U.S.S. Temeraire

7 - Commander Derek Morgan


The kid was odd. One moment he seemed to be self-confident and funny, at the other he bowed his head and spoke so softly one needed to strain their ears to hear anything.

Morgan was tempted to sense him but he knew it would be futile. Joined Trills were impossible to read for Betazoids, as the brain patterns of symbionts' minds were too different from those of humanoid bodies. He remembered something about 'incomplete join' from this Trill's files but his knowledge of the Trill physiology was not sufficient to tell what that meant.

"Don't run full diagnostics," he told the kid but obviously it didn't register.

As Morgan was about to ask if a new transport was on their way already - the Captain could come any moment - the ship shook slightly.

"What's going on?" he looked around, alarmed.

Ensign Reid sat at his console, his long, slender fingers hovering above the darkened, flat surface. T'Elle stared at the tactical screen.

"We're moving," she reported.

"I can feel that, but why?" Derek jumped up to the Command chair and stared at his displays. He had to power them on first then reconfigure them as Operations in order to see the internal systems of the ship and why they were acting up. Meanwhile, he expected the pilot to give him a report, which he totally didn't do!

"Reid!" Morgan yelled.

"I'm rerouting Operations to Tactical Two!" T'Elle announced, obviously of the same mind as the Commander.

The floor vibrated as if a monster was waking up underneath.

"The engines are powering up!"

"Chief Engineer to the Bridge!"

"Ropes are loose!"

"Reid! Stop that ship!"

Still no reaction. Morgan looked up.

"Reid!"

He heard a sound. An odd, scary sound, different from the impulse engine. A kind of wail, moaning. As he stared at the pilot who sat stiffly, unmoving, he realized the sound was coming from him.

Morgan was on his feet in an instant. He hardly registered T'Elle's calm, "We're heading toward Bahadur, sir. Distance - twenty two hundred fifteen meters and closing. Still can't access Operations."

"Reid?" the Commander leaned over the unmoving pilot.

The Ensign's lips moved like they weren't his own. "Ayyyy, caaaant . . ." he moaned.

"What?" Damn! Everything would be easier if he could communicate with the Trill telepathically. Right now, he wouldn't worry about the risks for himself! "You can't? Can't what?"

"Speenceee . . . mmmm dyyying!"

Spencer? The Trill's files went through the Commander's head. 'Incomplete join'? Was it why he was acting like two people? Was the host rejecting the symbiont? Morgan may not have known much about Trill physiology but he knew enough - if a host rejected a symbiont and there was no other host standing by, they would both die. The host would die either way.

Morgan cast a glance at Tactical. The number depicting the distance from the Bahadur was decreasing.

"Sir, Lieutenant Garcia reporting to the bridge! What's going on?" a high-pitched voice reached Morgan's ears. He hoped this was the Chief Engineer.

"Power down the engines. Now!" he yelled, not even turning to look at her.

He weighed his options frantically. He could push the pilot away and take his post but being a science officer before this assignment, Morgan wasn't a skilled enough fly-boy to be certain he would avoid collision with the Bahadur. Spencer Reid excelled at flying. They needed him.

Not to mention that Morgan hated the thought that if no one helped the Trill, it would kill not one, but two living beings. Maybe, just maybe, he had the ability to save them instead.

Betazoids could read minds of un-joined Trills. This Betazoid could do much more than read minds.

Spencer, he reached out and commanded, Don't reject your symbiont. He felt a strange pressure in the boy's mind. A pressure pushing him out. Spencer! Join with your symbiont! You have to JOIN! he forced the young Trill to obey with the last of his will, before the overwhelming mute and invisible force threw him out and he stumbled against the deck, losing consciousness.


t.b.c.


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