Memento Mori
By Chibi-Kaz
For Kellie Waymire - Rest In Peace, Ensign.
Short story format
The large science laboratory, where so many non-command crewmembers spent so much of their day, was silent and still. The few people in there went about their essential tasks with quiet efficiency. Everyone seemed to give the entomology station extra room today.
SubCommander T'Pol observed all this from a point just inside the door. Gathering her unusually scattered thoughts, she approached the abandoned station. A few quick keystrokes sent the data within, all the notes, graphs, observations and professional theories, through the Enterprise computer to T'Pol's own workstation on the bridge. Two days from now, in reviewing the material, T'Pol would find a remarkably well written academic paper on the similarities of several alien pollinators to earth species. She would spend considerable time making sure that paper got published.
She experienced a jolt of unbecoming surprise to see Ensign Ngorodi hard at work at the Biology station across the room. T'Pol approached Amani, who initially only glanced up, but then stopped typing and rose.
"Ensign. Are you well?" T'Pol asked gravely. She knew that the subtext of her message would be understood by the African woman who'd become a close friend.
"I'm fine, SubCommander. Thanks. thanks for asking." Amani's answer revealed a great deal to the Vulcan, who'd come to understand the human women known as "The Girls" very well.
In a rare gesture, one that drew murmurs from the crew around them, T'Pol lifted her hand and placed it gently on Amani's shoulder. In a heartbeat, the statuesque Ensign's face crumbled, and she collapsed into T'Pol's awkward but comforting embrace. T'Pol held Amani in silence as the young woman sobbed into her shoulder.
*
In Engineering, a lieutenant stopped Commander Tucker as he strode through the room, sneering at the schematics in his hand. "Sir?"
"What?" snapped Tucker, more than a little hostile due to the events of the past few days.
"Er, Sir, I was just going to suggest you let Tagish knock off for the day. Look at her."
Both men glanced over at the redheaded Ensign, who was staring blankly at the pulsations of the warp core and completely ignoring the data on her workstation screen.
"Yer right." Trip acknowledged with a sigh. He'd not been on the disastrous away mission, but he knew the whole story from the Captain, and had seen Malcolm's many deep injuries sustained in trying to save ...
"Yo, Jess!" Trip said lightly as he neared the dazed Ensign. "Hey. Tagish?"
Blinking owlishly, Jessica turned her head to face the Commander. "Eh? Yessir?"
Trip winced inwardly at the redness of her eyes and the set of her jaw. "Why don't you knock off early? We got everything covered here."
With a blank expression, Jessica nodded. "Yes, sir." Like an automaton, she switched off her station and wandered away.
"Hey, why don't you go relax, ok?" Trip called after her.
Still distant, Jessica nodded. "I think I'll get in an extra workout." She drifted out the door.
Beckoning the observant lieutenant over, Trip ordered, "Spread the word - Tagish is headed to the gym. Let her be." He went back to his schematics. There HAD to be a better way to use the transporter for situations like emergencies. Maybe location tags in everyone's uniforms?
For the next hour, the sounds of an Ensign destroying a kick bag could be heard from the ship's small gymnasium.
*
The lights in Sickbay were dimmed to seventy five percent. At his desk, Doctor Phlox sat and made his final autopsy notes with a heavy sigh. The noise became artificially echoed as the doors to Sickbay hissed open to admit Ensign Hoshi Sato. Her face was pudgy and her eyes red from crying, but she managed a wavering smile for the doctor as she made her way over to the occupied bed.
"How is he, Doctor?" she asked as she peered into the unconscious face of Lieutenant Reed.
"He's recovering, though slowly. His muscle tissue is regenerating well, and fortunately, there was no damage to the spinal column."
"So, he'll walk again?"
"Surely. The spine was merely badly sprained, not broken. I was considerably more concerned about the tissue damage and the concussion, but it seems he'll pull through once more. Despite his nearness to death once again."
Hoshi's face fell a little. "He won't be happy to find out what happened." She laid her hand over Malcolm's limp arm. "He'll blame himself."
Hoarsely, Malcolm whispered, "I already do." His eyes blinked open and locked onto Hoshi's face. "I should have kept scanning." His breath wheezed in his lungs as he grimaced. "I should have protected her."
"There was nothing you could do, Malcolm! I almost -" she gulped, fighting to hold back more sobs, amazed to find she could still cry. "I almost lost you as well!" Unable to hide her tears, she clung to his hand. She felt Phlox lay a gentle hand on her back, guiding her to a chair he placed near enough to the biobed to let her continue to cling to Malcolm.
To the doctor's eternal surprise, he saw tears in the Lieutenant's eyes as well. The stoic officer reached out to stroke Hoshi's hair and whispered "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
*
Travis sat in his quarters and stared out the window at the passing stars. Slowly, his hands stroked the silk scarf on the desk, the one he'd found one morning in his quarters after a particularly great evening with Liz.
"Never enough time," he said sadly to the passing stars.
*
A day later, the entire crew minus the barest minimum personnel required to run the ship gathered in the Messhall. Chef moved among them, distributing a small portion of drink for each person. On a makeshift platform stood Captain Archer and Commander Tucker. T'Pol would not stand with them; she placed herself with Ensigns Ngorodi, Tagish, and Sato, front and center. Notably missing was Lieutenant Reed. Doctor Phlox refused to allow him out of Sickbay for at least a week, and left Malcolm sedated, since the armory officer had begun to rant bitterly. Again.
Archer took a moment to make sure everyone had their cups. They'd been talking and laughing quietly. Mayweather and the remaining Girls were particularly subdued, but it made him proud to see the way T'Pol stood with her friends.
Clearing his throat for attention, he began, "We're here because of the loss of a young woman who was more than just a fellow crewmember to so many of us. She was a bright mind, a leader in her field, a willing and enthusiastic student. She was sometimes a know-it-all," several people chuckled, "a partner in crime, a gentle chiding voice when we blew off Sickbay visits and health care, a delighted observer of alien culture, an adventurous and joyful person." He noticed that T'Pol now had her arms around a crying Ngorodi, while Hoshi leant on Travis, and Tagish clenched her fists. "No-one could have foreseen or even prevented the events that lead to her death, and even though her promising and bright young life was cut short, Ensign Elizabeth Cutler died doing something she loved - discovering new worlds. We should never forget her enthusiasm for life, her dedication to work, and her joy of discovery." He raised his glass and fought back the lump in his throat. "To Liz Cutler!"
Echoing, voices fierce with grief and memory and love, the crew shouted back.
"To Liz Cutler!"
END.
By Chibi-Kaz
For Kellie Waymire - Rest In Peace, Ensign.
Short story format
The large science laboratory, where so many non-command crewmembers spent so much of their day, was silent and still. The few people in there went about their essential tasks with quiet efficiency. Everyone seemed to give the entomology station extra room today.
SubCommander T'Pol observed all this from a point just inside the door. Gathering her unusually scattered thoughts, she approached the abandoned station. A few quick keystrokes sent the data within, all the notes, graphs, observations and professional theories, through the Enterprise computer to T'Pol's own workstation on the bridge. Two days from now, in reviewing the material, T'Pol would find a remarkably well written academic paper on the similarities of several alien pollinators to earth species. She would spend considerable time making sure that paper got published.
She experienced a jolt of unbecoming surprise to see Ensign Ngorodi hard at work at the Biology station across the room. T'Pol approached Amani, who initially only glanced up, but then stopped typing and rose.
"Ensign. Are you well?" T'Pol asked gravely. She knew that the subtext of her message would be understood by the African woman who'd become a close friend.
"I'm fine, SubCommander. Thanks. thanks for asking." Amani's answer revealed a great deal to the Vulcan, who'd come to understand the human women known as "The Girls" very well.
In a rare gesture, one that drew murmurs from the crew around them, T'Pol lifted her hand and placed it gently on Amani's shoulder. In a heartbeat, the statuesque Ensign's face crumbled, and she collapsed into T'Pol's awkward but comforting embrace. T'Pol held Amani in silence as the young woman sobbed into her shoulder.
*
In Engineering, a lieutenant stopped Commander Tucker as he strode through the room, sneering at the schematics in his hand. "Sir?"
"What?" snapped Tucker, more than a little hostile due to the events of the past few days.
"Er, Sir, I was just going to suggest you let Tagish knock off for the day. Look at her."
Both men glanced over at the redheaded Ensign, who was staring blankly at the pulsations of the warp core and completely ignoring the data on her workstation screen.
"Yer right." Trip acknowledged with a sigh. He'd not been on the disastrous away mission, but he knew the whole story from the Captain, and had seen Malcolm's many deep injuries sustained in trying to save ...
"Yo, Jess!" Trip said lightly as he neared the dazed Ensign. "Hey. Tagish?"
Blinking owlishly, Jessica turned her head to face the Commander. "Eh? Yessir?"
Trip winced inwardly at the redness of her eyes and the set of her jaw. "Why don't you knock off early? We got everything covered here."
With a blank expression, Jessica nodded. "Yes, sir." Like an automaton, she switched off her station and wandered away.
"Hey, why don't you go relax, ok?" Trip called after her.
Still distant, Jessica nodded. "I think I'll get in an extra workout." She drifted out the door.
Beckoning the observant lieutenant over, Trip ordered, "Spread the word - Tagish is headed to the gym. Let her be." He went back to his schematics. There HAD to be a better way to use the transporter for situations like emergencies. Maybe location tags in everyone's uniforms?
For the next hour, the sounds of an Ensign destroying a kick bag could be heard from the ship's small gymnasium.
*
The lights in Sickbay were dimmed to seventy five percent. At his desk, Doctor Phlox sat and made his final autopsy notes with a heavy sigh. The noise became artificially echoed as the doors to Sickbay hissed open to admit Ensign Hoshi Sato. Her face was pudgy and her eyes red from crying, but she managed a wavering smile for the doctor as she made her way over to the occupied bed.
"How is he, Doctor?" she asked as she peered into the unconscious face of Lieutenant Reed.
"He's recovering, though slowly. His muscle tissue is regenerating well, and fortunately, there was no damage to the spinal column."
"So, he'll walk again?"
"Surely. The spine was merely badly sprained, not broken. I was considerably more concerned about the tissue damage and the concussion, but it seems he'll pull through once more. Despite his nearness to death once again."
Hoshi's face fell a little. "He won't be happy to find out what happened." She laid her hand over Malcolm's limp arm. "He'll blame himself."
Hoarsely, Malcolm whispered, "I already do." His eyes blinked open and locked onto Hoshi's face. "I should have kept scanning." His breath wheezed in his lungs as he grimaced. "I should have protected her."
"There was nothing you could do, Malcolm! I almost -" she gulped, fighting to hold back more sobs, amazed to find she could still cry. "I almost lost you as well!" Unable to hide her tears, she clung to his hand. She felt Phlox lay a gentle hand on her back, guiding her to a chair he placed near enough to the biobed to let her continue to cling to Malcolm.
To the doctor's eternal surprise, he saw tears in the Lieutenant's eyes as well. The stoic officer reached out to stroke Hoshi's hair and whispered "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
*
Travis sat in his quarters and stared out the window at the passing stars. Slowly, his hands stroked the silk scarf on the desk, the one he'd found one morning in his quarters after a particularly great evening with Liz.
"Never enough time," he said sadly to the passing stars.
*
A day later, the entire crew minus the barest minimum personnel required to run the ship gathered in the Messhall. Chef moved among them, distributing a small portion of drink for each person. On a makeshift platform stood Captain Archer and Commander Tucker. T'Pol would not stand with them; she placed herself with Ensigns Ngorodi, Tagish, and Sato, front and center. Notably missing was Lieutenant Reed. Doctor Phlox refused to allow him out of Sickbay for at least a week, and left Malcolm sedated, since the armory officer had begun to rant bitterly. Again.
Archer took a moment to make sure everyone had their cups. They'd been talking and laughing quietly. Mayweather and the remaining Girls were particularly subdued, but it made him proud to see the way T'Pol stood with her friends.
Clearing his throat for attention, he began, "We're here because of the loss of a young woman who was more than just a fellow crewmember to so many of us. She was a bright mind, a leader in her field, a willing and enthusiastic student. She was sometimes a know-it-all," several people chuckled, "a partner in crime, a gentle chiding voice when we blew off Sickbay visits and health care, a delighted observer of alien culture, an adventurous and joyful person." He noticed that T'Pol now had her arms around a crying Ngorodi, while Hoshi leant on Travis, and Tagish clenched her fists. "No-one could have foreseen or even prevented the events that lead to her death, and even though her promising and bright young life was cut short, Ensign Elizabeth Cutler died doing something she loved - discovering new worlds. We should never forget her enthusiasm for life, her dedication to work, and her joy of discovery." He raised his glass and fought back the lump in his throat. "To Liz Cutler!"
Echoing, voices fierce with grief and memory and love, the crew shouted back.
"To Liz Cutler!"
END.