Someone was trying to wake him up.

It was clearly a female someone because no man, regardless of his orientation, had skin that soft. Or smelled that good. Or had breath that sweet. At first, his muddled brain thought that it was perhaps his mom and that he had overslept again, but that thought was quickly brushed aside when he realized that whoever She was, She was crying and sounded like She was in pain. Kelby thought of himself as something of an old-fashioned type of guy and stirred, pushing himself toward consciousness. A hollow thud echoed through his skull, beating time with his pulse, and his arm hurt - no, it screamed with pain. Something sticky was on his head, something wet and sticky. Smoke was heavy in the air and it smelled of burnt electrical wire, warp coolant and ... flesh?

His eyes snapped open then, and he found himself face to face with Lieutenant Hailey Burke.

Under normal circumstances, waking to discover a pretty woman's face mere centimeters from his own would have made his day, even if it was streaked with engine grime and sweat. Maybe especially if it was streaked with engine grime and sweat. These were far from normal circumstances.

"Hello, Hailey," he croaked. He hoped his voice didn't sound as bad to her as it did to him.

"I thought you were dead!" she exclaimed, her eyes widened with what could only be fear. He frowned at that; he'd never known Lieutenant Burke to act this way in the eight months he'd known her. She was one of the strongest women he knew, could give most - if not all - of the men aboard lessons on toughness. He wondered what could rattle her and tried to focus his hazy brain. Memory remained elusive; he recalled an explosion. Alarms. Bracing for impact. Another explosion and then blackness. Everything fell into place and he tried to push himself up, to get a better look around at what remained of Engineering.

That, as it turned out, was something of a mistake.

Fire shot through his left arm, a white-hot spike of pain so intense he could not help but to gasp in shock. His vision swam again and he clenched his eyes together, tried to block out the molten lava that seemed to race through his veins. He felt her hands on his neck, keeping him from crashing back to the floor. She's got nice hands, a part of his brain told him.

"Your arm is broken," Burke told him unnecessarily. "In two or three places." His arm agreed with her assessment and he gritted his teeth together, tried to ignore the pain as she fit an auto-splint onto the mostly useless limb. Probably a concussion too, he thought angrily to himself. As if he needed a concussion now.

"What's our status?" he asked, his eyes still tightly shut. He was still the acting-Chief Engineer, regardless of his injuries. His people were relying on him and he would not let them down.

"We lost the nacelle." She drew a deep breath, held it for less than a heartbeat, then exhaled. He was astounded at how calm she became in the space of that single breath. "And there's a delta leak we can't lock down." That was bad; the rad suits were fine as stopgap measures but if that leak wasn't plugged, a lot of people were going to die. He'd seen crewmen who had died of delta radiation poisoning; no one deserved that. Kelby opened his eyes and locked gazes with her; the concern he saw there warmed him just a bit. She smiled shyly and he realized that he was looking at yet another missed opportunity. This planet sucks, he grumbled to himself.

"Help me up," he said quietly. To anyone else in Engineering at that moment, it would have been an order, a command to be obeyed instantly. Without question. To Hailey, it was a request.

Standing up may have also been a mistake. He swayed on unsteady feet, felt his legs buckle and quickly latched onto Burke for support. She shot him a look - one of those indecipherable expressions that only a woman could make or understand for that matter - and pressed a hypospray to his neck; he blinked, finally noticing the medkit she had strapped to her side. The hypo hissed and he immediately felt better. Pain receded to a manageable level and he found his thoughts clearer than they had been for a long time. Before he could say anything to thank her, a new alarm began sounding and Kelby felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Core breach.

The alarm was almost instantly joined by an automated verbal announcement. Recently installed by Tucker himself, the computerized voice sounded exactly like the ship's first officer. In honor of the ground collision avoidance systems in ancient fixed-wing jets (the so-called 'bitching Betty' as it had been called), Tucker had unofficially christened the alert voice his 'bitchin' Polly'; Commander T'Pol had been far from amused but, despite numerous attempts both blatant and covert, had been unable to alter the voice. Her efforts - whether intentional or not - had spawned a good-natured interdepartmental battle, with the Science division trying to crack Tucker's code while the Engineering crew opposed them.

"Warning," the disembodied voice announced. "Containment field has been compromised. Core breach in three hundred and sixty seconds." Almost at once, Kelby realized what must have happened: the destruction of the nacelle had caused a massive power surge, one that had overloaded the circuits in the containment field surrounding the warp core itself. It could be slowed - possibly - but not prevented. Not now.

"Get everybody out, Hailey." She gave his hand a quick squeeze and turned away, already shouting orders. Kelby reached over to the comm panel, triggered it even as the 'bitchin' Polly' continued to count down.

"Engineering to Bridge!" He had to shout to make himself heard over the alarms.

"Bridge." Short and succinct; it occurred to Kelby that if Lieutenant Commander Reed was answering, something had happened to Captain Archer. This day just kept getting better and better.

"Core breach in under five minutes!" Burke's efforts were paying off as the Engineering staff streamed past him through the door, most under their own power but far too many needed help.

"Can you prevent it?" Reed was angry, no doubt thinking that if Commander Tucker were here, he'd be able to stop it. Kelby was having the same thought.

"Negative!" There was a fractional pause as the acting-captain considered his options; when he spoke again, he was grim, implacable.

"I need ten minutes, Kelby. To get clear of the field." That made sense; escape pods would have no hope of surviving intact while in the belt - there were too many random variables to calculate, too much stellar debris to evade. And pods had never been designed with maneuverability in mind. Kelby looked back at the warp drive, his mind feverishly turning over options. Only one leaped out at him as having any chance of success, slim though it may be. With a resigned sigh, he realized what he had to do.

"You'll get them. Kelby out." He released the transmit button, turned to meet Burke's eyes. They were too knowing, too ... wise.

"Planning to stay, sir?" She didn't sound surprised.

"Yes," he replied, jerking his head toward the door. "Get clear, Lieutenant."

"No sir. You'll need a hand rigging the core for ejection." Kelby frowned; she clearly knew him better than he expected but there was no way he was going to have her death on his hands. Not if there was something he could do about it. She had far too much to live for. Forcing his expression into one of grudging acceptance, he nodded and she relaxed, glanced away.

And he punched her in the face.

Lieutenant Burke staggered back, blood streaming from her broken nose, and wobbled on her feet, surprise writ on her face; without hesitation, David hit her again, this time in the solar plexus and she folded over, gasping for air. He shoved her through the doorway and into the hands of a visibly stunned Crewman Rowe.

"Get her out of here," Kelby snapped before hitting the door release, sealing himself inside. No one could enter now. Time to earn my pay, he thought grimly to himself as he turned toward the warp core. An ancient quote drifted came to mind, one that he had heard recently during Movie Night in a film about the early pioneers of space travel. He thought it appropriate: Dear Lord, please don't let me fuck up.

He couldn't help but to smile.