Watching Them Sleep - Sulu
Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu looked around at the sleeping faces of his men. The temperature was dropping rapidly; he was glad they could rest, and save their strength. But, the sinking in his stomach told him that some might never wake. How had it come to this? How did things go so wrong, so quickly?
A few ore samples, a twig or two, a catalogue of animal life on a world of temperature extremes.
A transporter malfunction, a setting sun.
And, now, death.
Bellham's skin was pinched where it emerged from the thermal blanket; rime frosted Jameson's brows. Murray and Klein huddled together – shipboard rivals made co-conspirators in a creeping battle against the treacherous cold.
His communicator chimed. The signal was weak, and he had no need to whisper: The wind whipped away his words before they could wake his men. Sulu asked for coffee – the Captain laughingly replied.
When the call terminated, Sulu knew that Kirk would be making demands that Engineer Scott would furiously try to answer – as though sheer force of will could overcome physics.
Sulu looked around at the faces of his sleeping men. Now he understood the long hours at Medical bedsides, the solitary midnight vigils: The Captain waited for his men to wake - He alone would welcome them back.