Chapter 7
Heather explained her plan to Captain Sisko later that night. Although he didn't exactly approve of her getting revenge, he knew that nothing was going to stop his new lieutenant.
Heather packed her bag, and prepared to leave. Just then, her door chime sounded.
"Come in." The rhythmic sound of Maureen's crutches sounded on the floor, and a minute later, Maureen herself came into view.
"Hey, Heath." she said softly, using Heather's childhood nickname. "I hear you're leaving." Heather nodded, she wasn't sure she could speak without crying.
"Want me to come with you? I think you could use an extra hand." Heather considered this kind offer. She could use an extra hand, and it would be nice to have someone with her who knew her as well as she knew herself. Plus, like the old saying, two heads were better than one.
"Sure." she said, smiling in spite of herself. Then another idea came to her. "Maybe Bridget and Tucker can come too. I think that would be nice. After all, this is a mission for Kathleen-or, rather, her memory. The four of us were her closest friends. It wouldn't be right for some to go, and not others." Maureen grinned.
"All right!" she cheered. "It'll be just like old times..." Then Maureen fell silent as she realized what she just said. She looked over at Heather, who now had a cascade of tears flowing down her face.
"No." Heather shook her head. "No, it won't be like old times. Because Kathleen won't be there..." She couldn't go on. Maureen put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"Hey, hey, Heath, it's ok, think of something funny. Think of how we're going to fit Tucker's wheelchair inside the shuttle craft." Although Heather tried to stop it, a smile soon spread across her face and she started to laugh.
"Oh, man." she said, half laughing, half crying. "That's gonna be, like, a comedy act!" Maureen tapped her on the shoulder, and held out a fistful of tissues. That only made Heather laugh harder.
"Maureen, the speedy tissue deliverer!" she giggled. It was an old joke from their camp days. Maureen tugged gently on her best friend's shirt sleeve.
"Come on!" she urged. "Let's go tell Bridget and Tucker that they're coming on the mission!"
Later that day, Heather watched in the launch bay as Tucker got on the shuttle craft. Chief O'Brian had rigged up a mechanical lift of sorts to lift Tucker in his wheelchair onto the shuttle, and it actually seemed to be working quite well.
Heather climbed onto the shuttle and looked around. It looked like a normal shuttle, with a few changes. Tucker and his cumbersome wheelchair took up most of the back of the shuttle, so there was little space for the three girls. Attached to one wall was a shallow cabinet, like the old medicine cabinets in Earth bathrooms. And that's exactly what it was. Dr. Bashir had medically cleared all four of them to go on the mission, but there were many daily medications that this ragged shuttle crew needed, especially Heather, who was still getting over her bout of flu.
Heather slid into the pilot's seat and watched as Kira hoisted Maureen up into the shuttle. Maureen couldn't manage steps too well with her crutches. While Heather helped Maureen keep her balance, her crutches were lifted into the shuttle. Maureen slid into the seat beside Heather, but was forced to move over with the arrival of Bridget. Bridget, like Heather, used one forearm crutch. All in all, there were four crutches propped precariously up against the shuttle wall.
"Ow, Bridget, you're squishing me!" Maureen gasped, sandwiched between Heather and Bridget.
"Well, it's not my fault that there's no space in here!" Bridget pointed out. After a fair bit of rearranging themselves, the three girls looked behind them at Tucker, who had been watching the process with amusement.
"Are we gonna get a move on?" he asked. No one heard him, the three girls were busy chatting. "Go!" he yelled. The chattering stopped and the girls laughed.
"Sorry, Tucker." Bridget apologized.
"Go!" he repeated. Because of the CP affecting his speech, Tucker usually didn't say much. But his meaning was clear: Stop the chatting and let's go!
"Bye!" The DS9 crew yelled simultaneously. Heather smiled and waved to her new friends. Then, they were off.
About a half hour later, something beeped on the console. Heather punched a few buttons and reported.
"I'm picking up a Cardassian-" she spat the word venomously. "-ship ahead of us bearing mark 129.324." As the ship loomed into view, Heather got an ominous feeling.
"I know that ship." she whispered, although she wasn't sure why she was whispering. "That's the Cardassian ship that fired on the Ability. Those are the people that killed Kathleen."
A/N: Ooh, cliffhanger! Sorry I haven't updated in months. I've been mulling over the plot for this story in the back of my mind, but I've been too busy with my Danny Phantom stories to work on it. But I think I'm back on track with this story now. I can't promise anything, but next update should be soon. Oh, and sorry if I'm not good with the technical stuff. I'm a trekkie, but I don't really get into the techinalities, and the spelling and stuff. But I spelled Dr. Bashir's name right! I looked it up on should stop rambling and get a move on myself, I'm going over a friends house. Happy Holidays!