Chapter 6: Tales of Glory and Honor
"Something has to be done about him, sir." Rosh said, sitting across the desk from Marion in the CO's quarters.
"He could have just been trying to protect us. The Jem'Hadar was holding Ensign Singer by the neck." Marion said.
"Ensign Hudson swears that his phaser was not set to full power. That means Doctor Sovek set the weapon to vaporize before firing." Rosh explained. "He did so in violation of your orders to keep the Jem'Hadar alive."
"I thought you disagreed with that order." Marion replied.
"I did, but you had made your decision. It was not my position to countermand your order, and it certainly wasn't Sovek's."
"What would you have me do? We don't have a brig. He's a civilian; I can't reduce him in rank. Should we hold a tribunal and bring the most skilled surgeon on this ship up on charges of murder?"
"Insubordination may be a more appropriate charge, but I don't think a tribunal is the answer." Rosh sighed. "This isn't an isolated incident. I heard he slapped a patient. The other day he was sitting in this room advising us to surrender. I've known other Vulcans, something is wrong with Sovek, I don't know what it is, but something is seriously hurting his judgment." Suddenly the ship rocked violently.
"What was that?" Marion asked, gripping his desk to steady himself.
"Rosh to the bridge, report."
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"Franks here, sir. We're under attack. Warp power is off line." The JG answered from the center chair.
"Taking evasive maneuvers." Jordan called from the helm.
The doors to the aft of the command space swooshed open and Chief Reilly, a little winded from running to the bridge entered. "Who the hell is shooting at us?"
"Dominion Battleship. It came out of nowhere." Franks explained.
Sitting down at the starboard station Reilly powered up the phasers. "I bet it's the same one that chased us to the Badlands."
"Return fire, Chief." Franks commanded.
"No effect." The Chief reported. "Their shields are too strong for our pea shooters."
The bridge doors opened again as Marion and Rosh entered. Franks gave up the center chair, and assumed the port station. Marion looked at Rosh who gestured towards the command chair, indicating the Doctor should take the seat. Marion cautiously took his seat. As the ship shook again the CO wondered if he shouldn't have taken Rosh up on his offer at Haven station, maybe Rosh should be in command.
"Our phasers are useless against the Battleship. I suggest we divert phaser power to the shields." Rosh said looking over Frank's shoulder.
"Yes, divert the power to the shields." Marion ordered.
"Shields holding at sixty-four percent." Franks reported once had transferred the power.
Marion gripped the arm rests of his chair as the ship again rocked violently. "Maybe, maybe if we put some distance between us and the Battleship, their weapons wouldn't be able to target us as accurately."
"Attempting to open some distance, sir." Jordan reported.
Rosh reached over Franks shoulder and called up a tactical analysis of the Dominion Battleship on the port console. "Sir, there are gaps in the Battleship's firing arcs just off its warp nacelles, but we would have to get close to utilize them."
The ship rocked again as another volley of disruptor fire. "Shields at forty-nine percent." Franks reported.
"Ensign Singer, position us off one of the Battleship's warp nacelles." Marion ordered.
"Aye, sir." Jordan replied, bringing the Nightingale about.
"We need warp power." Rosh said in frustration.
"We're not likely to get it back as long as they're shooting at us." Reilly said. "We've got power fluctuations all over the board, a few more hits and we're going to start losing more systems than warp drive."
Jordan was able to slide the Nightingale into position off the Battleship's starboard nacelle, but not before incurring several more hits from disruptor fire.
Looking at his console Franks saw power begin to fluctuate all over the ship. "Shields are down to twenty-nine percent." Franks reported.
Across the bridge the increasing power fluctuations ruptured an EPS conduit behind the starboard station. Sparks erupted out of the console, and Chief Reilly was flung backwards in his chair as he grabbed at his face in pain.
Marion was not sure what to do when shields were at twenty-nine percent, but he did know that the Chief needed medical attention. Marion leapt out of the seat to help Reilly. "He needs surgery, Mr. Rosh, take the con." Reilly was burned and bloodied; shards of the console were imbedded in his face. The CO tapped his comm. badge. "Marion to sickbay, two for emergency transport."
Rosh took the center chair as Marion and the Chief disappeared in the shimmering light of the transporter effect. Rosh weighed his options, or lack there of. The ship rocked again as it drifted back into the Battleship's firing arc.
"Shields at twenty-two percent!" Franks cried out.
"Keep us out of their firing arc!" Rosh commanded.
"I'm trying, sir." Jordan reported, frantically making minor adjustments to the Nightingale's course. He tried to anticipate the maneuvers of the Battleship before they made them. The blind spot of the massive warship's firing arc was only slightly larger than the Nightingale herself, keeping the hospital ship inside that area was near impossible.
The bridge shuddered as another shot grazed Nightingale's hull. "Shields at fourteen percent!" Franks reported.
"Thrusters are failing." Jordan reported. The ship was becoming sluggish and fighting against his commands.
"Rosh to engineering, emergency power to the shields, take it from life support if you have to." The XO commanded.
"I'll give you all we've got, sir, but it's not much." Ensign Hudson replied over the comm.
"Lieutenant, three ships decloaking off the Battleship's bow." Franks said. Looking at the sensor read out he felt a wave of hope wash over him. "They're Klingon!"
"Hail them." Rosh ordered.
The image of the Dominion ship on the main viewer was replaced with a Klingon face. "Federation ship, I am Torr. Drop your shields on my command." The viewscreen then returned to image of the Battleship, but now three Klingon Birds of Prey could be seen heading directly towards the Dominion ship with weapons blazing.
"If we drop our shields we'll be defenseless. What do we do, sir?" Franks asked, all his hope leaving him.
"We do exactly as he says." Rosh instructed. He wasn't sure what the Klingons had in mind, but they were the Federation's chief ally against the Dominion and unlike Rosh, they had a plan.
The Birds of Prey were almost on top of the Battleship now. Two of them suddenly cut towards the Nightingale.
"Lower your shields!" Torr's voice boomed across the comm. Franks complied immediately, afraid to cross the intimidating voice.
Passing over the Nightingale the two Birds of Prey lock tractor beams onto the hospital ship and jumped to high warp. After firing several more photon torpedoes at the Battleship, the third Bird of Prey followed.
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Marion was scrubbed up and ready to operate. He already had Nurse Haas administer a pain reliever. Chief Reilly was unconscious now. With all the technology in the Nightingale's incredible sickbay Marion began his work with a simple set of tweezers, carefully picking away the shards of the exploded console that had been embedded in Reilly's skin. The Chief had no warning of the blast, Marion could tell. The natural human reaction to an impending explosion would be to turn away and cover one's eyes, but the shards of console hit the front of Reilly's face, and the only thing that covered Reilly's eye were his eyelids. That could be serious, Marion thought. "Nurse Haas." The Doctor said, not looking up from his work. "Locate Doctor Kizmet, I may need her expertise."
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"Federation ship, worry not about the Dominion Battleship. It will take them a day's repairs before they have the speed to pursue us." Torr said from the trailing Bird of Prey.
"I am Rosh, executive officer of the USS Nightingale. We are in your dept Captain Torr." Rosh said from the center chair.
"Your ship took quite a beating. We're taking you to a nearby area of space where you can make repairs. We will be masked from the Dominion's long ranged sensors there."
"You're not talking about the Badlands are you?" Franks asked from his station.
Torr laughed out loud. "Only a fool would take a sloth of a ship like yours into the Badlands. Do not worry human, there is a pulsar near here, it is quite safe."
Jordan managed to remain silent, but he couldn't resist cracking a smile.
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"What do you think?" Marion asked he methodically healed Reilly's burns with a dermal regenerator.
Doctor Kizmet was at the wall display studying the Chief's ocular scans. "We can repair the corneal abrasions fairly easily. We only need to modify a dermal regenerator." Kizzy then sighed. "But his retinas, it doesn't look good."
"What do you mean? " Marion asked, finishing his work and approaching the display to better see what Kizmet was talking about.
"Chief Reilly's retinas have been burned. I saw a lot of this on Zosonpang, my home. Our sun is closer to our planet than most, and retinal burning is the most common cause of blindness." Kizmet said.
"Blindness, are you sure?" Marion gasped.
"At best, Mr. Reilly has lost all of his peripheral vision, but retains the ability to make out colors and blurs of people." Kizzy explained.
"Blurs of people?" Marion asked.
"These are very severe burns." Kizzy replied. "I wouldn't be surprised at all it was total blindness, but there is only one person that can tell us if that is the case."
Marion turned back to the sleeping Chief. "Very well." He said. He then turned to Nurse Hass. "Wake him."
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"Come." Rosh responded to the door chime to his quarters sounded. The doors swooshed open and Ensign Mathew Hudson stepped into the room.
"You wanted to see me sir?" The Ensign asked.
"How are repairs coming?"
"We've restored warp power, and we're in as good a shape as it was when we left the Badlands. But we're still letting the Klingons' tractor beams carrying along. We're traveling at warp six, faster than we could go on our own. I've diverted some extra power to the structural integrity field to offset the effects of tractor shearing."
"Good." Rosh said.
"If that's all, sir, I'll return to my duties. We should be arriving at the Pulsar shortly." The Chief Engineer turned to leave.
"One moment, Mr. Hudson." Rosh said, bringing Hudson a halt. "Yesterday, in sick bay, you hesitated when it was time to depressurize the bay and rid the ship of the Jem'Hadar soldiers. You endangered the ship."
Confronted with his own failure, Hudson stood frozen in Rosh's gaze.
Rosh sigh, allowing a rare display of frustration to a junior officer. "What am I suppose to do with you? I can't demote you, you're an Ensign. I can't relieve you of duties; you're the only engineer I have. But I also can no longer trust you in holding the safety of the ship above the safety of a person."
"Sir, I've known Jordo, uh, Ensign Singer for years. I was afraid of what pressing that button would have done to him." Hudson stammered in response.
"Mr. Singer knew the risks. He volunteered for his part in the plan. Is this really about not wanting to loose your friend, or is this about someone dying by your order?"
"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"
"Mr. Hudson? Are you listening to me?" Rosh asked.
"I'm sorry, sir. Yes, sir, I am listening." Hudson felt like a first year cadet again.
Rosh could see that his point had been made. "Chief Reilly told me you were experiencing some guilt over the death of Crewman Adkins. I sympathize with what you're going through. It is a hard decision, choosing between the ship and a person. But you must make sure that the safety of this ship and its crew are always paramount, personal feelings of guilt are a small price to pay for doing the right thing."
Hudson looked at the floor, not wanting to meet Rosh's gaze. "I understand, sir."
"I hope so." Rosh replied. He then stood up. "Now, let's go meet some Klingons."
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"Where am I?" Chief Reilly demanded.
"You're in sickbay." Kizmet calmly answered him.
"Who are you? What happened to the Battleship? Is Nightingale OK? Why is it so dark in here?" The Chief rattled off questions.
"I'm Doctor Kizmet. The Nightingale is safe, we escaped the Battleship, but you were injured during the attack." Kizzy kept her voice as peaceful as possible; she knew it was the only connection the Chief now had with his environment.
"Power must be offline. Don't you worry you're pretty little head, Ensign Hudson is a good engineer. He'll have the lights back on in no time." Reilly spoke quickly and nervously.
"The lights are on Chief. During the attack an EPS conduit ruptured behind the console you were operating. The flash of light was so intense it severely burned your retinas. Do you understand what I am saying?" Kizmet asked.
"What the hell are you talking about, it's darker than night in here? I feel fine. Give me a flashlight, Hudson probably needs some help." The Chief tried to sit up, but he felt a firm hand push him back down.
"Chief, this is Lieutenant Commander Marion. I know this is hard to accept, but you are blind. Doctor Kizmet has more experience with cases like yours than anyone on the ship. There is no way I know of to heal your eyes. They can eventually be replaced by prosthetic VISOR implants, but Nightingale is not equipped for such specialized treatment."
Reilly lay back down. "There has to be something you can do. You're doctors aren't you?"
"Doctor Kizmet can explain your options to you, but understand, there is no medical procedures I know of that will restore your natural sight." Marion patted Reilly on the shoulder, not knowing what else to do. He then left, pulling the curtain closed around the medical alcove as he did.
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"Captain Torr signals that he is ready for transport." Hudson reported from the transporter console at the fore end of sickbay.
Rosh nodded. "Let's not keep the captain waiting. Begin…"
"Am I late?" Marion asked quickly approaching the transporter panel.
"No, sir. We were just initiating transport now." Rosh replied. "Ensign Hudson, begin transport."
Moments after Hudson tapped at the console a blue shimmering light coalesced in front of the three Starfleet officers, when it finally dimmed the massive frame of Captain Torr was left in its place. If there were any naturally occurring species that were as intimidating in appearance as the genetically engineered Jem'Hadar soldiers, it was the Klingons. Torr was well over six feet tall. He wore the traditional uniform of a Klingon warrior, but his family sash, worn over his shoulder like a bandoleer, was adorned with many more medals than the average warrior.
"I am as healthy as a wild targ." Torr announced.
"That's, um, good to hear." Marion said, not sure if Torr was using some Klingon idiom he was not familiar with.
"Then why have you transported me to your sickbay?" Torr asked taking in his surroundings.
"The Nightingale is hospital ship. Our transporter is integrated into the deck and overhead, making it easier to beam the sick and injured directly to this sickbay." Hudson explained.
Torr nodded. "A hospital ship? I have many wounded warriors, will you give them treatment?"
"Of course." Marion replied, extending his had. "By the way, I am Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion, Commanding Officer and Chief Medical Officer of the Nightingale."
"Captain Torr, IKS Hor'Cha." The Klingon said shaking Marion's hand more forcefully than the doctor was expecting. "Your ship took quite a beating in from that Battleship. It is fortunate my squadron was passing through the sector."
"Actually, the damage was fairly moderate." Hudson said.
Rosh shot a glance at the Ensign, making the Engineer realize he had diminished the Klingon's valiant rescue. Rosh then turned back to Torr. "The majority of our damage occurred in the Badlands, when we were trying to elude the very battleship you rescued us from. We are in your dept."
"I will consider it paid in full once you treat my warriors. And if you could provide us with medical supplies before we leave, I will be in your dept. I fear we will not be able to fill our stores for some time, not on this side of the line."
"You will have all your cargo bays can hold." Marion said, glad that he could be of service to a Klingon. He then saw Nurse Haas walking pass and waved her over. "Nurse, We will be treating the Klingons, please make room for additional patients and prepare to transport all the medical supplies they require to their ships." The Nurse nodded, and left to carry out her orders.
"What did you mean, 'on this side of the line'?" Rosh asked.
Torr was surprised at the question. "On the Dominion's side of the line, are your navigational systems damaged as well?"
"We entered and exited the Badlands on the Federation's side of the line." Rosh answered.
"You took this ship into the Badlands?" Torr exclaimed in disbelief. "Several days ago, the area you refer to may have been Federation space, but no longer. As of now all Alliance forces are in retreat. There was a massive engagement in sector 4452. We were there, songs will be sung about that battle, unfortunately they will be sad songs." Torr spoke in a low respectful tone. "We intercepted a Federation transmission two days ago. It contains a list of the ships that were lost."
"Oh my." Was all Marion could manage to say.
After a moment of stunned silence as Torr's words set in Rosh finally broke the silence. "We would appreciate a copy of that transmission, Captain. Is there anything else we could do for you?"
Torr thought for a second then smiled. "I have heard of a human drink known as Prune Juice. It is said to be worthy of a warrior."
Rosh then thought of the perfect disciplinary action for Hudson. "Ensign Hudson, please escort our guess to the galley and get him a tall glass of prune juice."
Hudson thought that Rosh's dressing down had left him in low spirits, but diplomatic duty with a Klingon sent them spiraling even lower. However, Hudson felt he deserved it, so he mustered a smile and said: "This way, Captain."
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Marion walked down the corridor that housed the medical staff's quarters. He still had to talk to Sovek. Disciplining a doctor under his authority was nothing new the Marion, but the particular circumstances he was faced with now changed everything. He had never had to deal with a doctor on his staff vaporizing someone.
"Doctor Marion, could I speak with you for a moment?" Esco said quietly from behind the CO.
Marion jumped when he heard Esco's voice. "Mr. Esco, where did you come from?" Looking at the Nevlian, Marion thought the lights had just gone out. He realized the Esco's skin was the same shade of Gray as the walls of the corridor. Shadows even seemed to fall across his face at the same places as they did on the bulkheads. It all gave the illusion that Esco was standing in a dark passageway, even though the lights were at their normal intensity. "I was on my way to Doctor Sovek's quarters, but I have a moment if this won't take long." Marion said, catching his breath.
"I apologize for startling you." Esco said as his pigment changed to match Marion's own. "The Vulcan is actually pertinent to what I wanted to discuss. Sir, there is a gathering threat on this ship that must be dealt with."
"I am aware of the complaints against Doctor Sovek, and I assure you I will personally deal with the situation." Marion assured the Nevlian.
"The threat I speak of is not isolated to the Vulcan, I am referring to the ship's morale. The Vulcan is an extreme example of how the pressures of this war are wearing on the crew and the patients. Feelings of hopelessness have a way of spreading like a cancer; this ship must believe it will survive to have any hope of getting home. Something must be done now, especially since the crew will soon be aware of the Federation retreat."
"How did you know of the retreat? I only just found out myself." Marion asked.
"I find myself reminding many people on this ship, I am an intelligence officer. It is my job to know things."
"What would you have me do Mr. Esco? I cannot change the tide of war."
"People crave leadership in times of trial. Give it to them, and our chances for survival improve dramatically." Esco stared at Marion, silently demanding a response.
"I'll try." Marion said, before resuming his walk towards Sovek's quarters. He couldn't help but slouch ever so slightly under the burden of command.
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"I never thought it would end this way." Chief Reilly muttered.
"That what would end this way?" Kizmet asked.
"My career. I never imagined that I would be rendered useless like this."
"You aren't useless Chief. Once we get back to Starbase we'll be able to get you to a medical facility that can give you VISOR implants. You'll be able to see again."
"After months of therapy, and then I'll only had some artificial approximation of sight." Chief scoffed.
"VISOR implants will allow you to see farther than you ever have before. You'll be able to pick up light outside of the human visual spectrum. You're sight will be better than anything you've ever experienced and they aren't as fragile as natural eyes." Kizzy said, hoping the capabilities of artificial eyes might get the Chief's mind off his loss.
"They're that good, huh?" Reilly asked.
"Yes, Chief. They are superior to natural eyes in everyway." Kizzy replied, happy that her ploy had worked.
Reilly then said in a low tone, "Then why don't you have them?"
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"Enter." Sovek said as the door chimed. The Doctor was sitting in the middle of his darkened quarters meditating in front of a Vulcan candle.
"I didn't mean to interrupt your meditation." Marion apologized.
Sovek leaned forward and blew out the candle. "Computer, restore lights to normal levels." He stood and faced Marion. "It is no inconvenience. How may I be of service?"
"There have been complaints." Marion said. "Concerning you."
"It is no surprise. Vulcan doctors are often said to have poor 'bedside manners' by species with less emotional control." Sovek replied.
"I'm afraid the complaints are much more substantial than that." Marion paused, waiting for a response. Sovek gave none, so Marion continued. "Did you slap a patient?"
The Vulcan's expression did not change, but he did advert his eyes downward. He momentarily studied the deck before again looking Marion in the eye. "I silenced and unruly patient."
"By slapping the patient?" Marion pressed.
"He was distracting to the medical staff, and causing duress to the other patients. Time was short. The patient needed to be silenced quickly, so I silenced him using the quickest means available. It was the logical thing to do." Sovek said.
Marion nodded, considering the Vulcan's explanation. "Why did you vaporize the Jem'Hadar soldier?"
"It was the logical thing to do. The Jem'Hadar was threatening the life of a Starfleet officer, I removed that treat." Sovek replied quite unemotionally.
"You did not need to vaporize him." Marion insisted.
"I am unfamiliar with phaser operations. If I failed to incapacitate the soldier on the first shot, harm was certain to come to Ensign Singer. I set the phaser at what I rightly believed to be maximum power to ensure my attempt would be successful."
Marion nodded again. He paced to the other side of Sovek's quarters, reviewing the Vulcan's logic in his head. The reasoning was sound; Marion could not find any fallacies. However, the logic did not make Sovek's actions acceptable. Marion turned back towards Sovek. "I don't think you are telling me the entire truth. These violent acts, your comment the other day about the Jem'Hadar 'deserving' his fate, in hindsight even your urging me to surrender could be a sign of hopelessness, it almost seems as if you're depressed."
"Vulcans do not experience depression." Sovek replied.
"Maybe," Marion said, "but I will not tolerate violence towards a patient, any patient. You are relieved of your duties until further notice."
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"And the other Jem'Hadar ship was stupid enough to run into your second antimatter pod?" Torr laughed and took another swig of prune juice, downing the glass.
"Actually the second Assault ship avoided the pod, and Nightingale ended up getting hit by a plasma column." Jordan said. He had groaned internally when Hudson had spotted him entering the galley, and invited him to share a glass of prune juice with a Klingon. However, while his suspicions about prune juice had held true, he actually was having fun exchanging war stories with Captain Torr. Torr had already told Jordan and Hudson about his squadron getting trapped behind enemy lines, and the Dominion ships they had ambushed over the past couple of days. But the Klingon seemed more impressed at the story of the Nightingale running away from battle than he was with his own tales for running into them.
"Out of antimatter, and severely damaged, how did you escape? Did the Jem'Hadar simply take pity on you?" Torr asked.
"Well, I took over the helm. I saw a swirl in the plasma field, indicating a column was about to spring up. I turned towards it, put the engines to full, and the assault ship followed. The plasma column formed just as assault ship was passing over the swirl; they took it right in their broadside." Jordan said smiling.
Torr laughed again. "I am still amazed you even attempted to navigate the badlands in this ship, but to defeat two Jem'Hadar warships, and a third as you left, that is a story worthy of song." Torr then turned to Hudson, who had been quiet for most of the story telling. "And I suppose you, the engineer, were holding that damaged warp nacelle to the ship with your own bare hands."
"Something like that, I was fighting fires." Hudson said quietly. He was not comfortable taking about the battle. "Could I get you another prune juice?" Torr nodded, Hudson took the Klingon's empty glass and headed for the replicators.
"Your friend is uncomfortable talking of your adventures." Torr said to Jordan once Hudson was out of hearing range.
"Yeah. Hud had a rough time during the battle. We took one casualty and he blames himself for it." Jordan grew very quiet, wondering if he should be telling any of this to Captain Torr.
"Was it a friend?"
"No, it was one of his Engineering Technicians."
"A subordinate, often that can be even harder to endure."
"I've tried telling him he didn't do anything wrong. I wish he could see that, but he just…" Jordan couldn't put it into words.
"Sometimes the hardest things to see about ourselves are clear as day to others." Torr said. "Guilt, remorse, these are some of the enemies within that can cripple a warrior as effectively as a well placed blow from a bat'leth."
"Cripple? Do you think Hud will ever let it go, ever stop carrying the burden?"
"Wounds heal, Ensign Singer. I can see that you are a good friend, and a cunning warrior. You have earned much glory in an unlikely place."
Jordan smiled and shrugged as he said, "I try." He then took a swig of prune juice, which he immediately regretted.
"One tall glass of prune juice." Hudson announced, placing the glass of purple liquid in front of Torr and taking his seat again.
Torr took a swig of his new drink. "Now tell me more about how you escaped the Badlands by surrendering to a Jem'Hadar Assault Ship." The Klingon said.
Jordan leaned forward. "Well, the Badlands were swarming with Assault Ships…"
"Bridge to Ensign Singer." The unmistakable voice of Clark Franks came across the comm.
Jordan rolled his eyes and tapped the comm. badge on his chest. "Singer here, go ahead JG."
"Are you aware that you have duty at 1400?" Franks asked.
Jordan looked at time readout on a nearby wall console. "Its 1350, I have ten minutes until my shift."
"If you had bothered to read the ship's Standard Operating Procedures you would know that you are supposed to report fifteen minutes early for duty in order to conduct a proper turnover brief." Franks said.
"Who wrote that SOP?" Jordan asked.
"As head of department head for propulsion, I wrote it." Franks replied, very pleased with himself.
"Fine. I'm on my way." Jordan tapped off his comm. badge and then turned his attention to Torr. "I'm sorry Captain, the story will have to wait."
"You're not even going to finish your prune juice?" Torr asked, astonished at how much of the precious beverage still remained in Jordan's glass.
"I had a lot of prune juice with breakfast." Jordan said before turning to leave.
"Ensign Hudson, perhaps you could finish the tale." Torr suggested.
"If it's all the same to you sir, I'd really rather not." Hudson replied.
"Ensign Singer told me that someone under your command lost his life during the battle."
"And I suppose that you are going to tell me I did the right thing, just like everyone else on this ship keeps telling me." Hudson was clearly angry that the subject had been brought up. He didn't care that he was raising his voice to a Klingon, or the man that had saved the Nightingale. The engineer wanted the issue dropped.
"I think you know you did the right thing. The choice was between the ship or the man."
"But it was my choice! I'm the one who made it and now Crewman Adkins is dead!" Hudson pounded his fist on the table, causing the galley to go silent, all eyes on him and the Klingon.
"And you continue to relive that moment looking for another solution!" Torr shouted back, then lowering his voice he continued. "You are not going to find another solution. Some battles cannot be won without sacrifice. And you forget, it was not your choice, it never was."
"What do you mean? Whose choice was it?"
"Crewman Adkins." Torr replied. "Did he not know what the consequence of your order was?"
Hudson didn't reply immediately. His mind wondered back to the Jefferies tube. "Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"
"He knew the consequence." Hudson finally said.
"It was Crewman Adkins' choice to follow or not follow your order." Torr reached across the table and put his hand on Hudson's shoulder. "Your friend Jordan has found much glory through his actions in these past days. But you have men willing to go to their death for you, that tells me that you have found Honor. I know you feel guilt for giving that order, that is to be expected. But in the end Adkins is dead, you are not. Honor his memory by being the man he was willing to die for."
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"Quite frankly, sir, he's right." Rosh replied after Marion had finished relaying Esco's concerns to Rosh. "The conditions we have been going through have obviously been wearing on Sovek, Ensign Hudson is holding on to some guilt over the death of Crewman Adkins, and after hitting that plasma column in the Badlands Lieutenant Franks's confidence at the helm is questionable at best."
"Chief Reilly's spirits have also shaken by his recent injuries. Esco suggested providing the crew with leadership, but where could we possibly lead them?" Marion asked. He wondered if the great captains of the Federation like Archer, Kirk, or Sulu ever felt so helpless against their own crew.
"We can't lead them anywhere until we get that damaged nacelle fixed." Rosh stared at the portrait of the Nightingale hanging on Marion's bulkhead. It was hard to believe that less than a week had passed since the ship had looked as pristine as it did in the painting. "Currently, even at our maximum warp factor, it would take nearly four years to make it back to Federation space. I can't say I blame the crew for their spirits being so low. I've found myself questioning whether or not we'll see home again."
Marion was surprised. Rosh's demeanor seemed no different now than any other time they had spoken. The Andorian seemed serious, and no more or less serious now than he had ever been. Before Marion could respond there was a chime from the door to his quarters. "Enter." The CO said.
The doors swooshed open and Captain Torr entered. "I have a copy of the Federation transmission. Looking over it I noticed Nightingale is among the ships listed as missing and presumed destroyed." The Klingon handed the PADD to Marion.
"There are only fourteen ships listed here, and Nightingale isn't one of them." Marion said after looking over the list.
"Those are the survivors." Torr said.
Rosh looked over Marion's shoulder as the CO switched the PADD's display to the losses. "Ninety-eight ships." Rosh said, his normally measured voice giving way to horrified astonishment. "And this all happened in the past few days?"
"Those ships were lost in one battle." Torr corrected. "I was there. Your compatriots fought bravely, but the Dominion ships just kept coming."
"I can't believe it. The seventh fleet wiped out in a single engagement." Rosh said.
"Oh my." Marion gasped. "The Noble has been lost. Doctor Kizmet, one of my medical staff, her fiancé was on that ship."
"Hopefully he got to an escape pod." Rosh said.
"Even if he did, I would not hold out hope. Before my ships escaped, we saw the Jem'Hadar destroying even the escape pods. They left no one alive." Torr explained.
"This isn't going to help our morale problem. I'm sure there are more of the crew than Doctor Kizmet that lost loved ones in that battle." Rosh said.
Marion put the list down, he couldn't bare to look at it any longer. "Captain Torr, after such a crushing defeat, how do you keep your men willing to fight?"
Torr thought for a moment. "We grieve, we sing songs and celebrate how or warrior brothers met there ends with courage and valor, and we continue to fight, to honor the memory our fallen and find our own glory."
"I'm afraid most of the species of the Federation don't feel like singing in times such as these." Marion replied.
"Then you must find something that will bring comfort to Federation species. Poor morale is a mutiny against the soul, and as dangerous to a ship as a genuinely treacherous crew." Torr said.
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Kizzy walked down the corridor trying to think of ways to raise Chief Reilly's spirits. Restoring his natural sight would do it, but it was a near medical impossibility to repair retinas as damaged as the Chief's. Kizmet smiled as she saw Doctor Marion heading down the corridor in the opposite direction. The Chief Medical Officer looked worried somehow.
"Good evening, Doctor Marion." Kizmet greeted him. She noticed he was avoiding looking her directly in the eye.
"Doctor Kizmet, I need to speak with you." Marion said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."
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She wasn't hungry. She didn't know why she came to the galley or why she ordered anything from the replicator. She pushed the food around on her plate, staring it at so she could avoid the eyes of those around her.
"Doctor, may I sit with you?" The request was unmistakably from Sovek.
"If you want." Kizzy said softly. She figured if she could tolerate anyone's company right now, out of all the souls on the Nightingale, it would be an emotionless Vulcan.
Sovek sat down with a bowl of soup and ate in silence. After several minutes the Vulcan asked, "Is your meal not satisfactory?"
"It's fine, I'm just not hungry." Kizzy replied.
"It is illogical to come to the galley and order a meal if you have no hunger." Sovek said.
Kizzy dropped her fork and covered her face with her hands. "I really don't need any lectures in logic today."
"It was only an observation. Could I speak to you on another matter?"
"What's that?" Kizzy asked, wiping away a tear that had escaped her eye.
"I have been forbidden to have direct dealings with any patients. I am in need of someone to take over my rounds."
"This really isn't the best time Sovek."
"The time was not of my choosing. And while I may be prohibited from treating them, my patients still require care."
"Then ask someone else!" Kizzy spat at him.
"You are becoming needlessly emotional Doctor Kizmet. I will ask someone else."
"I'm sorry, it's not you Sovek. It's…" Kizzy's voice trailed off. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand."
"I doubt that, Vulcans are often able to fully understand many situations much quicker than other species; we lack the weakness of emotion."
Sovek's comments enraged Kizmet. She found herself yelling at the Vulcan. "Jacob, my fiancé, is dead! His ship was destroyed by the Jem'Hadar, can you understand that! Or does your lack of emotional weakness make my behavior seem illogical to you!"
"Maintain control." Sovek said, his rate of breathing increasing.
"Maintain control!" Kizzy yelled back thinking the Vulcan was speaking to her. "The man I was going to marry is dead! Do you know what that feels like?"
Sovek violently smacked his bowl of soup off the table in rage. "Do not lecture me on the difficulty of loss! I watched my son die on the surface of MN-1375!" Kizzy stared back in disbelief as tears ran down the Vulcan's face. "I might have been able to save him, but I was operating on another patient. I asked him to hold on. I asked too much." He then stood and left the galley.
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Unlike most of the crew, Jordan was feeling quite pleased with himself. A Klingon Captain had told him he had found glory. Torr was the first Klingon Jordan had met, but the Ensign knew that no Klingon Warrior gave praise lightly.
Jordan was passing by the galley when the door swooshed open and Kizzy almost ran into him. "Oh, Jordan, excuse me." She said.
Jordan thought back to Kizzy wishing him luck before he went to greet the Jem'Hadar First with Esco. He then remembered how badly he had treated her before that. "Kizzy, listen, I want to apologize for how I've been treating you."
"Not now Jordan." Kizzy said. She was fighting back tears and really didn't want to have another outburst like she had in the galley.
"I just want to say…"
"Not now." Kizzy cut him off. "I, I'm needed in sickbay. I have patients I need to attend to." She pushed pass him and put her hand over her eyes trying to push the tears back in.
Kizzy had kept enough control that Jordan didn't notice she had been on the verge of crying. He thought she was just being rude to him, intentionally. "Fine, forget about it. I'm not sorry." He called after her.
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Kizzy had to go to her quarters for twenty minutes to get herself under control. She had cried continuously since she had left the galley. She felt so stupid, first she yelled at Sovek, a man who had lost his son. Then there was Jordan, she had no idea what had happened with Jordan outside of the galley. And then there was Jacob. She knew it could happen, but she never really believed it. She thought the war would just delay their marriage. She never thought it would end like this, so far away from Jacob, so far away from home. She was now in sickbay checking on Chief Reilly. At least the Chief couldn't see how red her eyes were.
"Who's there?" Reilly asked.
"It's me Chief, Doctor Kizmet." She replied.
"Oh, are you ok?"
"What do you mean?" Kizzy had no idea how the Chief could have possibly pick up on her mood.
"Well, your being so quiet. You're not trying to convince me everything will be ok."
"I thought you didn't like me telling you those things."
"I don't, I was just about to thank you." Reilly half chuckled at his own joke.
Kizzy signed. "I'm beginning to think you're right, Chief. Maybe when you loose some things, your life can never be as good as it once was."
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Jordan paced back and forth across his quarters while Hudson sat at the room's only desk. "I tried, Hud. I tried apologizing, but she wouldn't listen."
"So?" Hudson asked. "Try again. I know for a fact that she likes you."
"She's engaged." Jordan shot back.
"I meant as a friend, Jordo. She likes you as a friend."
"Maybe once, but not anymore. You weren't there today, Hud. You didn't see how she was acting." Jordan said. "Forget it. I'm through with her."
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"Come." Rosh said from his desk. The XO stood when he saw Marion was his visitor. "How can I help you, sir?"
"I had an idea on how we might address the morale problem." Marion said.
"Are we going to sit around and sing sad songs?" Rosh asked.
"Not exactly." Marion replied. "Arrange for the crew to assemble in the shuttle bay tomorrow morning."
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The shuttle bay was crowded. Along with the crew of the Nightingale, many patients and even Torr and several of his officers had shown up to pay their respects. The main bay doors had been opened so that the stars could be seen beyond the force field. Marion stood at a podium with his back to the space-scape. In front of him Lieutenant Rosh, Ensign Singer, Ensign Hudson, and Crewman Doral held the four corners of the flag of the United Federation of Planets. The men held the powder blue flag taught and flat.
Marion took a deep breath and began. "We are gathered here today in memory of Crewman Christopher Adkins and our compatriots that lost their lives at the battle of MN-1375. This ship's mission is one of life. I know none of you expected us to be forced into battle, but we were forced into it regardless. I know this ship wasn't build for what we have been demanding of it, but thanks to the commitment and sacrifice of this crew. Of men like Christopher Adkins, this ship was able to rise above its station. The truth is we are at war, and this war continues to take from us." Marion made eye contact with Ensign Hudson. "It takes our shipmates," the CO found Kizmet in the front of the crowd, "our closest friends," he then looked to Sovek, who stood near the back of the shuttle bay, "our dearest blood."
Marion paused a moment before continuing. "What we must remember, what is so easy to forget in times as difficult as these, is that our mission is a success. This ship is now treating one hundred and twenty percent of its patient capacity, and those patients' prognosis is good. This ship's mission is one of life, and we are accomplishing that mission."
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"Sovek." Marion called, catching up to the Vulcan after the memorial service. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?"
"It was fascinating to witness a human death ritual." Sovek replied.
"I heard about your son, and I am sorry. You have my condolences."
"It is I who should apologize. My behavior was not logical. I should have controlled my emotions more effectively, rather than letting them interfere with my duties."
"Sovek, you lost your son, it's perfectly logical, you loved him."
"Love is not logical. It is not logical to value one life above another."
"Tell me, in triage why do we give treatment to the healthiest patients first?" Marion asked.
"The healthier patients have the best potential for survival." Sovek answered.
"Maybe you value your son more than others because you knew the potential he had, the potential that you helped nurture as a father, and the potential that was cut short in front of your eyes."
Sovek weighed the argument before replying. "Perhaps. How do humans deal with such losses?"
"We talk about the deceased's life. We hold funerals. We share the burden we feel."
"There is some logic in that." Sovek said after some time. "Doctor Marion, if it is no imposition, may I tell you about my son?"