For all of those people who take issue with the idea of a tragic and noble death ...
If you like a tragic and noble death, then just read the first two chapters. Please.
Author's note: see bottom of page
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Sacrifice
Aeryn Alexander
Part Three
"Captain?" asked Ensign Cutler, peering into
Jonathan Archer's ready room. It was very early, but Sub-commander T'Pol
told her that he was there.
"Yes, ensign?" asked Archer, turning his attention
away from his computer. He smiled softly when he saw her. Cutler's eyes
were still red and puffy, no doubt from reading the report she had been
given just the night before. It was not light reading by any means.
"Are there plans to retrieve the body, sir?"
she questioned.
"Have a seat, ensign." he instructed.
Her shoulders shook as she sat down and looked
at her commanding officer, but she retained her composure.
"Sir?" she prompted as he looked at her.
"I wish we could, ensign. I just don't think
it's possible. Trip, Malcolm, and Hoshi barely escaped with their lives.
Additionally, our scans aren't doing much good down there. I want to see
him returned home to Denobula as much as anyone else, but I just don't
know if it's feasible, ensign." he explained to her.
"If you need a volunteer, sir, I will go."
"That's very brave, ensign, but ..." he began
to tell her.
"Please, sir."
"Did you love him, ensign?" he asked. The
question was very personal.
"Yes, sir, I ... did." she replied firmly,
wanting desperately to sound strong, although the tears in her eyes betrayed
her. She blinked them away quickly.
"If T'Pol can get a fix on the body, I will
consider it, ensign, but I wouldn't hold out much hope."
She was crying at her station when the call
came over the comm system: "Ensign Cutler, report to the shuttle bay immediately."
It was Captain Archer's voice. She left her station and hit the corridor
at a run.
When she entered the bay, she collided with
Lieutenant Reed, who was examining a phase rifle.
"Ensign." he acknowledged as she collected
herself.
"Sorry, sir."
"Are you ready for this?"
"I believe I am, sir."
"Ensign," called Archer from near the shuttlepod,
"there has been a temporary break in the weapons fire on Gamma Alpha V.
The two of you have maybe an hour to collect the body of our fallen comrade
and return. No heroics. Get in and get out. Got that?"
"Yes, sir." said Cutler.
"No heroics, sir?" questioned Malcolm quizzically.
"You know what I mean, lieutenant."
"Yes, sir." he said.
"Then get going. You don't have much time."
"We are going to land in an urban war zone,
ensign. There might be sniper fire or worse. Be prepared." Malcolm cautioned
her as they approached the planet.
"How far will we be from his location?" she
asked after giving him an acknowledging nod.
"Twenty-five meters, more or less. The body
is in an alley."
"Good. Not far then."
"Ensign, it's all right. Everyone knows how
you feel. You don't have to put up a facade while we're in the air."
"I know, lieutenant, but I don't want to go
to pieces when we get down there. I want to be a professional."
"Understood, ensign." said Malcolm.
Lieutenant Reed put the shuttlepod down in
a small, deserted plaza. Some of the nearby buildings had obviously been
hit by artillery fire. The scent of sulfur was still in the air, although
it was very faint. The shelling had occurred during the early morning hours.
It was nearly noon, and that part of the city was quiet. As Cutler left
the shuttlepod, she looked around in frightened wonder. She had never seen
an area that had fallen victim to war before. The history books did not
do them justice.
"We should hurry, ensign." said Malcolm as
she surveyed the horrors.
"Which way?" she questioned, her mind returning
instantly to the task at hand.
"Over there."
The alley was very similar to the one that
the away team had fled down when the army began their search of the buildings
near the downtown area. It was narrow and shadowy even in the noon day
sun. At the far end Cutler could see a figure slumped against a far wall
that marked where the alley turned. A soft cry escaped her lips and she
broke into a run, heedless of the destruction around her or any danger
therein. Malcolm followed her like a forgotten rear guard, clutching his
rifle to his chest as he ran.
Cutler crumpled to her knees with a choking
sob when she reached him. The front of his shirt was soaked through with
blood. One side of his face was caked with it as well. Cutler had never
heard the order given to the soldiers: "shoot them in the head and then
shoot them again." But she could recognize that he had been shot with a
propulsion weapon. She cradled his head in her arms, gently smoothing his
disheveled hair and weeping silently.
Malcolm couldn't help but to feel a twinge
of regret as he approached them and thought, "We should never have left
him, knowing what they would do. We should have cut our way out of here
instead."
The young lieutenant could not bring himself
to intrude upon the privacy of the moment. Cutler deserved a few minutes
to mourn her friend and colleague in peace. Malcolm shouldered his rifle
and pulled out a tricorder. He needed to know how long he could give her
without risking their safety.
"Strange," he thought, frowning, "I'm getting
three bio-signs here." He tapped the instrument, but it continued to show
three life-signs. Malcolm glanced at the tricorder again and then at Phlox
in Cutler's arms. He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him with
anguished eyes.
"Sir?" she croaked.
"Ensign, he isn't dead."
Cutler slow moved one of her hands to his
neck and found a soft, faint pulse there. Her lips moved, but she couldn't
say anything.
"We must get him back to ship." said Malcolm.
"Of course." she agreed, scrambling to her
feet and wiping her eyes.
It was no easy task moving him down the alley
and into the shuttlepod, especially since they had to be very careful of
his injuries, which were substantial. Privately, Malcolm wondered if he
would survive the ride in the shuttle, but he did not share this concern
with Cutler.
"Stay with him, ensign." Lieutenant Reed ordered
her as she prepared to take her seat.
"Yes, sir."
She sat quietly on the floor on the shuttlepod
next Phlox, not saying a word as she gripped one of his cold hands. Her
heart was pounding, but she felt calm as she looked at Phlox and knew that
he was alive. It was more than she had ever hoped for.
"Reed to Enterprise." said Malcolm into the
shuttlepod's communication system.
"Enterprise here. Did you retrieve ... the
body?" asked Hoshi, taking a deep breath as she spoke.
"Um, yes and no." said Malcolm, glancing backward
for a moment.
"Come again?"
"He isn't dead, but we need someone to prep
sickbay to receive a casualty. He's injured pretty bad, Hoshi."
It was quiet on the other end for a moment.
"I've relayed your message. Auxiliary medical
personnel will be ready to receive you."
"He looks good, don't you think, ensign?" asked
Malcolm as they stood next to the biobed where Phlox lay. He was still
unconscious, but the blood was gone and the wounds bandaged.
"Yes." whispered Cutler, who had only left
his side for a few minutes when the bullets were removed. She had been
afraid that she would faint.
"He's going to be all right." Malcolm reassured
her for the tenth time. He had made the report to the captain while she
remained in sickbay.
"I know. Phlox was very lucky."
"Lucky to be Denobulan. Those injuries would
certainly have killed a human."
Ensign Cutler shivered a little. Lieutenant
Reed was blunt, but he was correct in his observation.
"They say he could regain consciousness tonight
or tomorrow morning."
"Do they now? That is good news." said Malcolm.
"Are you planning to stay here until then?"
"Someone should stay. If he wakes up, he could
be in pain or confused. He might not know that he's safe."
"Of course, ensign." said Reed, nodding. He
admired her loyalty, her devotion to the ship's doctor. Phlox would certainly
have been lost without her.
For all intents and purposes, Cutler had gone
without sleep for almost forty-eight hours. It was not surprising then
when she slowly began to doze during the earliest hours of morning during
her vigil. She leaned forward in her chair and rested her head against
the biobed.
"I'm just going to rest my eyes for a few
minutes." she told herself.
It was hours later when she felt soft, careful
fingertips touch her hair.
"Ensign Cutler?" questioned a weak, but familiar
voice.
"Phlox?" she asked in return as she raised
her head.
He looked a bit disoriented, but he was smiling.
"It wasn't all a bad dream, was it?" he asked,
touching his chest where he had been shot.
"No, but it's over." she assured him.
"Did the rest of the away team make it back
safely?"
"Yes, because of you, they all came back alive."
"Good." he said softly, relaxing and closing
his eyes again. For a moment Cutler thought he had returned to unconsciousness.
Then he spoke again, "Have I been here very long, ensign?"
"Less than twenty-four hours."
"How am I doing?"
"How do you feel, doctor?" asked Cutler.
"My head aches, and I feel a bit sore."
"Can you remember what happened?"
He was silent for a few moments. Cutler began
to wonder if he had drifted to sleep when he took a deep breath and opened
his eyes again.
"Yes, of course I remember. I was shot."
"Do you want anything for the pain? One of
the crewmen who attended you left a hypo of Anaprovalin just in case."
"No, I'm fine, ensign."
"Do you want to rest?"
Phlox chuckled and said, "Yes, I suppose I
should. You look like you could use some sleep yourself."
"Maybe." Cutler admitted, relieved to see
his buoyant humor returning.
"Then go to bed. Everything is going to be
all right, and I imagine you've sat here long enough, ensign."
~
When this mission began, no one imagined
that it would be concluded in such a fashion. A simple away mission to
explore an unfamiliar planet, Gamma Alpha V, turned into a situation where
one of our most valued crew members was lost, presumed dead. Then it turned
into a recovery mission of the most unpleasant kind. That mission, in turn,
became one of unexpected hope. Dr. Phlox was returned to the Enterprise
wounded, but alive. He has since recovered, thanks to Ensign Cutler, to
whom he owes a great deal. Without her persistence and loyalty he may have
been left behind. Thankfully, he was not. This crew learned a great many
lessons from Gamma Alpha V. The greatest of which is to never give up nor
lose hope in the face of an impossible situation.
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Author's note: I never really intended to write this chapter, but ... well here we are. I read some of the reviews and started to feel bad about how it ended. I also started to get a really inflated ego. Thanks! Additionally, I hate endings anyhow, so if this one sucked, consider it a character flaw of the author. Good God! Haven't we all suffered enough? Oh, and the difference in format ... it's unfortunate.