TITLE: Dear Annie ("Dead Stop")
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: Hoshi writes home after the events of "Dead Stop."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Thanks as always for the beta to Captain Average, the superhero who I hope is working on his own set of letters. ::Fingers crossed::
* * * * *
Dear Annie:
He was dead, I saw him. I saw his body. Travis was *dead*, and then he wasn't. Just when I thought I'd faced every bad thing, this had to happen.
I need to calm down.
It's just...I saw Travis' dead body. I told Phlox that I'd seen dead bodies before, early on, when we boarded the Axanar ship...did I ever tell you about that? I can't remember.
But Phlox was right--it's different when it's someone you know.
Remember, I told you we got hit pretty badly by the Romulan mines. Well, it was bad enough that the Captain had me put out a distress call, and he was pretty upset to have to do that. (I had my fingers crossed the Vulcans wouldn't respond, because half the crew would probably have died of the embarrassment.) Instead, we got a message from this species we've never met, telling us about this repair station not that far from us.
The Captain, Trip, and T'Pol went to negotiate with the beings running the station, but there weren't any. There was just a computer, and it assessed our needs and set a price in plasma coolant or something. I think the Captain was pretty spooked by not having a living creature to talk to, because as soon as he'd agreed, he came back to the ship almost immediately.
Everybody else got leave to spend time in the recreational facilities. They had this amazing machine in the center of the tables that would make whatever food or drink you wanted and it just appeared there, sort of a transporter. Trip had that inventor's gleam in his eye, so I wouldn't be surprised if we had one someday.
After our shift on the bridge was over, Travis and I...I'm sorry I need to go blow my nose. Travis and I had dinner. We had a great time. I've been following through on my resolution to get to know the people on the ship better. You know, the resolution I made after Trip and Malcolm nearly died in the shuttle.
And Travis is such a sweetie. We've been comparing boomer and Earth culture and just hanging out. It's kind of nice because he's a little closer to my age and the same rank, so I can be much more myself.
We had dinner, then I went off to have coffee with Liz and Travis went back to the ship.
Next thing I knew, Trip and Malcolm were in my quarters, asking me questions, because Travis was dead. Killed by some sort of shock when he went into an area of the ship still under construction. I couldn't think of any reason he would be there, I just kept remembering him at dinner, nearly choking on a glass of water laughing at a joke I told.
I sat in my quarters for a while, then I had to go to Sickbay. I had to see him, say goodbye in person, before I could believe he was dead.
He was mostly covered, but I could see a few burns, and I nearly lost it. I held it together by talking to the Doctor, telling him about this practical joke Travis played on me. I'd just figured out how to get him back. Trip and I rigged the computer so that when Travis was walking through certain corridors off-shift and alone, the comm system would do all kinds of silly things: wolf-whistle at him, beep, play the Marseilles. It was going to be so funny. We'd planned it just before the mine hit the ship, so we'd put it off until after the repairs were completed.
Just as I was going to start crying, Phlox got this odd look on his face and started muttering to himself. I just stood there in a daze as he ran a test and then called the Captain. I think they might have forgotten I was there, but I wasn't leaving if something was going on. Perhaps I was suffering from a bit of shock, because even after a few repetitions, the words "this isn't Ensign Mayweather" sounded as if they were in an alien language. I felt like I needed the UT, but finally it made sense. Somehow this alien station had created a replica of Travis and taken him away.
(Turns out, by the way, the station faked a comm message from the Captain. That's how it got him.)
From that moment on, the station never had a chance of keeping Travis, because they'd pissed off the crew of the Enterprise. Not a good idea. We threw together a plan to find and retrieve Travis and get away. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do, except my usual sit and wait. Malcolm got a little bit of action, but then he was stuck on the bridge with me, while Trip distracted the computer, and the Captain and T'Pol did search and rescue.
I'm a little bit glad I wasn't with them. Apparently, Travis had been hooked up to the central computer, providing processing speed. Since then, I've been having horrible nightmares, where I see Trip-- or you, or Mark, or Phlox--with wires running in and out of them, terrible nightmares where I practically wake up screaming. I've been practicing the meditation T'Pol taught me, but I'm barely hanging on.
Honestly, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I was joking in my last letter about constantly losing people, but this just cemented my fears. What if next time someone's really dead, or perhaps even more horrific, what if they're *not* dead and we don't realize it.
I could really use some encouraging words from you, because I'm not sure who else to turn to here. We're all going through the same thing, everyone blaming themselves. If I hadn't gone off to have coffee with Liz, maybe Travis wouldn't have left, and I feel as if somehow I should have noticed the faked comm message. Jon thinks he should have acted on his suspicions, Malcolm can't believe he *wasn't* suspicious, and Trip believes he should have been able to magically repair the ship without going to this station. I think even T'Pol is feeling a bit guilty, although that's harder to tell, but she's been unusually standoffish. Normally, I'd go talk to her about reining in my emotions, but I'm not certain now is a good time.
This would be a good time for a virtual hug. I'm really wishing that we'd turned around and limped back to Jupiter Station, or that I'd been smart enough to never come on this mission at all.
Love,
Hoshi
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: Hoshi writes home after the events of "Dead Stop."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Thanks as always for the beta to Captain Average, the superhero who I hope is working on his own set of letters. ::Fingers crossed::
* * * * *
Dear Annie:
He was dead, I saw him. I saw his body. Travis was *dead*, and then he wasn't. Just when I thought I'd faced every bad thing, this had to happen.
I need to calm down.
It's just...I saw Travis' dead body. I told Phlox that I'd seen dead bodies before, early on, when we boarded the Axanar ship...did I ever tell you about that? I can't remember.
But Phlox was right--it's different when it's someone you know.
Remember, I told you we got hit pretty badly by the Romulan mines. Well, it was bad enough that the Captain had me put out a distress call, and he was pretty upset to have to do that. (I had my fingers crossed the Vulcans wouldn't respond, because half the crew would probably have died of the embarrassment.) Instead, we got a message from this species we've never met, telling us about this repair station not that far from us.
The Captain, Trip, and T'Pol went to negotiate with the beings running the station, but there weren't any. There was just a computer, and it assessed our needs and set a price in plasma coolant or something. I think the Captain was pretty spooked by not having a living creature to talk to, because as soon as he'd agreed, he came back to the ship almost immediately.
Everybody else got leave to spend time in the recreational facilities. They had this amazing machine in the center of the tables that would make whatever food or drink you wanted and it just appeared there, sort of a transporter. Trip had that inventor's gleam in his eye, so I wouldn't be surprised if we had one someday.
After our shift on the bridge was over, Travis and I...I'm sorry I need to go blow my nose. Travis and I had dinner. We had a great time. I've been following through on my resolution to get to know the people on the ship better. You know, the resolution I made after Trip and Malcolm nearly died in the shuttle.
And Travis is such a sweetie. We've been comparing boomer and Earth culture and just hanging out. It's kind of nice because he's a little closer to my age and the same rank, so I can be much more myself.
We had dinner, then I went off to have coffee with Liz and Travis went back to the ship.
Next thing I knew, Trip and Malcolm were in my quarters, asking me questions, because Travis was dead. Killed by some sort of shock when he went into an area of the ship still under construction. I couldn't think of any reason he would be there, I just kept remembering him at dinner, nearly choking on a glass of water laughing at a joke I told.
I sat in my quarters for a while, then I had to go to Sickbay. I had to see him, say goodbye in person, before I could believe he was dead.
He was mostly covered, but I could see a few burns, and I nearly lost it. I held it together by talking to the Doctor, telling him about this practical joke Travis played on me. I'd just figured out how to get him back. Trip and I rigged the computer so that when Travis was walking through certain corridors off-shift and alone, the comm system would do all kinds of silly things: wolf-whistle at him, beep, play the Marseilles. It was going to be so funny. We'd planned it just before the mine hit the ship, so we'd put it off until after the repairs were completed.
Just as I was going to start crying, Phlox got this odd look on his face and started muttering to himself. I just stood there in a daze as he ran a test and then called the Captain. I think they might have forgotten I was there, but I wasn't leaving if something was going on. Perhaps I was suffering from a bit of shock, because even after a few repetitions, the words "this isn't Ensign Mayweather" sounded as if they were in an alien language. I felt like I needed the UT, but finally it made sense. Somehow this alien station had created a replica of Travis and taken him away.
(Turns out, by the way, the station faked a comm message from the Captain. That's how it got him.)
From that moment on, the station never had a chance of keeping Travis, because they'd pissed off the crew of the Enterprise. Not a good idea. We threw together a plan to find and retrieve Travis and get away. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do, except my usual sit and wait. Malcolm got a little bit of action, but then he was stuck on the bridge with me, while Trip distracted the computer, and the Captain and T'Pol did search and rescue.
I'm a little bit glad I wasn't with them. Apparently, Travis had been hooked up to the central computer, providing processing speed. Since then, I've been having horrible nightmares, where I see Trip-- or you, or Mark, or Phlox--with wires running in and out of them, terrible nightmares where I practically wake up screaming. I've been practicing the meditation T'Pol taught me, but I'm barely hanging on.
Honestly, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I was joking in my last letter about constantly losing people, but this just cemented my fears. What if next time someone's really dead, or perhaps even more horrific, what if they're *not* dead and we don't realize it.
I could really use some encouraging words from you, because I'm not sure who else to turn to here. We're all going through the same thing, everyone blaming themselves. If I hadn't gone off to have coffee with Liz, maybe Travis wouldn't have left, and I feel as if somehow I should have noticed the faked comm message. Jon thinks he should have acted on his suspicions, Malcolm can't believe he *wasn't* suspicious, and Trip believes he should have been able to magically repair the ship without going to this station. I think even T'Pol is feeling a bit guilty, although that's harder to tell, but she's been unusually standoffish. Normally, I'd go talk to her about reining in my emotions, but I'm not certain now is a good time.
This would be a good time for a virtual hug. I'm really wishing that we'd turned around and limped back to Jupiter Station, or that I'd been smart enough to never come on this mission at all.
Love,
Hoshi