Chapter 10: No Matter What Your End
Ensign Jordan Singer gracefully pulled the Phlox, a federation runabout, away from the Nightingale. He set his course towards the large starbase the Nightingale was orbiting. Jordan looked back at the hospital ship just returned from the frontlines, the Federation grey of its hull was interrupted by black scorch marks courtesy of the Jem'Hadar and their Battleship's disruptors.
He checked his course and speed again before opening a channel to Starbase 375's docking control. "Docking control, this is the Runabout Phlox, request docking clearance."
He was cleared and set the Phlox down in the starbase's maintenance bay. He hopped down onto the deck, noting the slight shift in gravity as his body crossed the door's threshold was greater than normal. Phlox's gravity generators were off, but that was expected, considering what it had been through.
Jordan handed the runabout over to the starbase's maintenance crew. He straightened his dress uniform and began to walk towards the door, but he was stopped by a passing Ensign. "Did you just bring that runabout in?" The Ensign asked, pointing at the Phlox. The underbelly of the runabout, damaged by its forced landing in a forest, looked like someone had tried to scrape it off. "Looks like you've seen some serious action."
"Some." Jordan said, offering half a smile. "We just got back from the front."
"Wow. I just got orders to the USS Centaur. She's a small ship, but we'll be heading to the front soon. I'm hoping to make a difference in this fight."
"Its tough out there, good luck." Jordan said to the excited Ensign.
"Looks that way." The Ensign glanced back at the Phlox. "What kind of ship are you on."
"The USS Nightingale, it's a hospital ship." The Ensigns eyes went wide at the response.
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"You missed it." Hudson whispered as Jordan slipped into the back of the room. To one side there were large floor to ceiling windows. In the center were chairs set up in rows, but most of the people in attendance were now going to meet the receiving party standing at the front of the room.
"I got held up." Jordan said. "How was it?"
"It was a funeral." Hudson replied.
"Yeah." Jordan said. And he let the silence hang in the air for a moment. "How's she holding up?"
"You could ask her." Hudson said.
Jordan looked to the front of the room where those in attendance were conveying their condolences to Kizmet.
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Kizzy recognized some of the people offering their regrets. They were her colleagues, the crew from the Nightingale, even a few of her Klingon patients. But most of them she didn't know. They were crew from the Noble, Jacob's friends and shipmates. Each one telling her what a good man her fiancé was. Each one telling her what she already knew.
"We met. Commander Elliot said. "Briefly, in the passage way on the Noble, you were on the away team."
"Yes, I suppose we did." She replied.
"His quarters are intact. I'll have his things sent to you ship.
"Thank you."
"He said something to me once. I was writing one of those letters husbands sometimes do before heading into battle. The ones that say all the things you wish you had." Elliot paused. "He didn't write one. Jacob told me he hadn't left anything unsaid. He told me that's why he loved you, how he knew you were the one."
Kizzy felt her throat choking up and she put her hand to her mouth to cover her involuntary frown. The room got blurry as her eyes glazed over with oncoming tears she fought back. "Thank you." She finally managed. Then she caught sight of something in the back of the room. It was Jordan. Their eye locked. She thought his gaze looked like one of pain or concern or even understanding, maybe a little of each. Whatever the case she did not want to look away. And for a moment she felt as if they were the only two in the room. She gazed into his eyes and huddled in them for warmth. Then, he looked away.
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Jordan felt Kizzy catch his stare. He looked away after holding her gaze for too long. "I have to go." He muttered and started for the door.
Hudson grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"
"I can't be here Hud. I can't do this, not now."
"Then when?" Hudson asked. "She needs a friend now."
Jordan freed his arm and walked out the door. It swooshed close behind him and he was alone in the corridor. He stood there for awhile, staring at the deck.
The doors swooshed open. "Jordan."
"I really don't want to hear it Hud." Jordan said as the doors swooshed close again.
"Who is Hud, Ensign Singer?"
Jordan turned around and felt like even more of an idiot. "Commander Elliot, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
Elliot nodded in understanding. "I've been meaning to talk to you. I've been given command of the Noble. We have been made one of the maintenance priorities, we'll ship out as soon as repairs are done. I have to re-man my ship, and I need a lead helmsman."
Jordan didn't know what to say. He looked at Elliot, then he looked at the door holding the memorial behind it. "Sir, we're at the funeral of the man I would be replacing."
"I know, it's not the soul of tact. You don't have to answer right away, but I'm pressed for time, and I need to get my ship manned." Elliot patted Jordan on the shoulder and waked off.
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"Did you know him?" Major Riggs asked.
"Lt. Millen?" Franks asked in return, looking to the large picture set in the place of honor in lue of the body. He shook his head, "No, I never met him."
"Me neither, but funerals aren't held for the dead." Riggs motioned towards the picture. "They're to remind us why he died, what he died for. To let our men know that they'll be remembered if they meet the same fate. It's the same reason we give medals."
"I'd rather have a medal." Franks forced a smile.
Riggs patted him on the back. "Wouldn't we all?"
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Lieutenant Rosh had to grab the frame of the door as he entered Marion's quarters.
"How's your head?" Marion asked.
"The head is fine, but I sprained one of my antennae." Rosh gingerly touched the left of the two protrusions sprouting out of his head. "My balance will be off for a few days while it heals."
"Then by all means, sit." Marion stood quickly and helped his XO to the chair across his desk.
"Thank you, sir. What did you want to see me about?"
Marion took his own seat again and picked up a PADD. "Your report on the last two weeks."
"I completed it this morning and sent it to Admiral Ross."
"It's not complete." Marion said. "It says here we 'happened across a Maquis outpost after noticing a divergence in the plasma storm's energy.'"
"And that is the truth sir."
"Maybe," Marion sighed, "but it is not the complete truth."
"Sir, the complete truth would implicate you as a Maquis sympathizer. You could be charged with treason."
"Only because I could be guilty of it."
"But you were only maintaining your oath as a Doctor to save lives. You are capable Commanding Officer and Starfleet is in need of your services."
"I'm honored you think so Mr. Rosh, I really am, but you are justifying. Being in command means accepting the consequences of all my decisions, good or bad."
Rosh nodded. "I will correct the report."
Marion nodded back, "And I will deliver it myself. I suspect there will be some questions to answer."
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"Plomeek Soup." Sovek command the replicator in the galley. Nothing happened. "Plomeek Soup." He said again, louder.
"The replicators are offline." Hudson's voice called from a table across the room. "I've turned off all ship service, replicators, laundry, hot water."
"For the repairs?" Sovek asked as he walked over to the Ensign's table.
Hudson nodded. "Yup, but the starbase has plenty of open rooms with private laundry and replicators."
"If the replicators are all off, why are you sitting here alone?" Sovek asked.
"I suppose that is a logical question." Hudson chuckled, but lost his humor quickly when he answered. "I'm actually trying to write a letter to the parents of Crewman Adkins, he was killed when the Jem'Hadar attacked us in the badlands."
"I knew him." Sovek sat down at the table across from Hudson. "He kept my medical equipment in working order while I operated during the battle.
"Every time I try to finish the letter… I don't know, I guess I try to imagine how Mr. and Mrs. Adkins will feel reading it, and nothing sounds good enough. Could you help me? Maybe give me some advice un-muddled by human emotion."
"What do you have so far?"
Hudson lifted the PADD and read, "Dear Mr. & Mrs. Adkins," He put the PADD down. "I'm kind of stuck after that."
"This war took my son. It was...difficult." He contemplated his response for a moment. "Possibly against logic, I find myself wondering what my son was doing the day before he died and what he would have done the day after, had he survived. Before he joined Starfleet I was familiar with his daily routine and his daily accomplishments, as I am sure Crewman Adkins' parents were similarly knowledgably of their son's life. However, once they left home that familiarity with their lives waned. Mr. and Mrs. Adkins know who their son was when he left them. My advice is to let them know who their son was when he met his end."
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"Come." Rosh answered the chime at his door.
"You wanted to see me, sir." Jordan said, straightening to a position of attention as his XO's manner seemed to demand.
"Why are you still on my ship Ensign Singer?" Rosh did not look up from his computer console.
"Sir?"
This time Rosh put the PADD down and looked directly into Jordan's eyes. "Commander Elliot told me he offered you the helm of the Noble, so why are you still here?"
"I was under the impression that the choice to stay or go was mine, sir."
"So you've chosen to stay?"
Unconsciously Jordan's eyes looked to away when he answered. "I haven't chosen, sir."
"Commander Elliot doesn't have time to wait Ensign. The Noble will be underway in less than a week."
"A week?" Jordan was surprised. "It has a hole in its saucer."
"It's getting a new one. The stardrive section of the USS Venture was destroyed two weeks ago in the Typhon sector, its saucer was able to accomplish an emergency separation and save some of the crew. The crew and the saucer will join the stardrive of the Noble. Commander Elliot needs an answer, and I need to know if I should start looking for a new helmsman."
"If I may ask, sir, what would you choose?"
"What I wanted most." Rosh replied without hesitation. "You probably already know what it is. Don't worry about who you'll disappoint or what you think others want. This is your career, your decision."
"What I want is to make a difference." Jordan answered.
"That you can do anywhere," Rosh said, "it just comes down to what type of difference you want to make."
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"You're not going to hold me here now, are you?" Chief Reilly asked as he helped up on the examination table. He had insisted that he could find the starbase's sickbay fine on his own the entire way, but the pretty young doctor had insisted on leading him there.
"I hear you found your way to engineering and fixed the ship during the battle. I think even if I tried to keep you here, you'd find a way to sneak off." Kizzy tried to sound upbeat, but failed.
"You sound like you have the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, little darling."
"It's been a long day." They were both silent as Kizzy examined the chief's eyes with her equipment. "My fiancée's funeral was today." She finally said when the silence became too much.
"I know." Reilly replied. "I figured you probably heard enough condolences for one day. Sometimes people just don't know when to shut up and let you feel sorry for yourself."
"But being alone is just as painful."
"Like your whole world went dark and nobody is there to let the light in again."
"Oh God, Chief. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to get you the Ketracel White in time."
Reilly dismissed the apology with a waive of his hand. "You don't owe me an apology. You tried, almost got your pretty little head killed over it. Sometimes we loose things we think we can't live without, that's life. And you get to feel sorry for yourself, and you get to be alone and ask, 'why me?' Then you realize this is happening, this is the way it's going to be."
"And what do you do then?" Kizzy didn't know if they were talking about eyesight, Jacob, or someone else.
"Whatever you can, whatever gets you through the day. You lost this thing, and you never ever imagined living without it, but it's gone and you're not dead. So you do what you can. I'm getting those implants. Starfleet is getting there twenty years from me if they like it or not."
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Jordan made sure to turn the socks were right-side-out before he shoved them into the duffle bag. Behind him the door swooshed open as his roommate entered.
"Going already Jordo? You know we have quarters in a couple hours." Hudson said.
"I know. I just want to be ready to go." Jordan shoved the last of the clothes into the duffle and zipped it up. "Done. How's your letter coming?"
"Done." Hudson said, holding up his PADD. "Did you talk to her yet?"
Jordan huffed in frustration. "And say what? I told her Jacob was alive when she thought he was dead, then I took that away from her less than an hour later. I couldn't even tell her he was really dead, she read it from the stupid look on my face. You tell me how I can help her, how I can do anything but be a constant reminder of the second time she lost the love of her life."
Hudson spoke softly. "You know why you told her Jacob was alive, and you know the reason she was able to read your face like a book, it's because you're her friend."
"And I want to be more than that." Jordan said, raising his voice. "How do I stand there and tell her I'm sorry her fiancée died when part of me always wished he wasn't around? I mean, we're back here, we're safe, and I can't help but wish I was back on raft in the middle of some unnamed planet's ocean."
The understanding left Hudson's voice. "You seem to be feeling pretty sorry for yourself for someone that's been asked to perform his dream job, helmsman of a warship."
"His job, Hud."
"So what? You've been handed everything you wanted, Kizzy's had everything snatched away. If you really cared about her, you would stand by her now."
Jordan looked away and shook his head. "Why do you care so much?"
Hudson sighed. "Because I'm watching a friend in agony as they realize their life is not turning out the way they thought it would."
"Then you go talk to her."
"I wasn't talking about her."
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"Blake!" A smile stretched across Admiral Ross's face as he walked out from behind his desk to greet his old friend.
"Hello Bill." Marion said, shaking Ross's hand. "Next time you need a favor, the answer is no."
Ross laughed. "At least I was right to ask, you did a hell of a job out there. Every after action report that has come across my desk has ended in retreat or defeat until the Nightingale came home." He patted Marion on the shoulder. "That color suits you."
Unconsciously Marion adjusted the collar of the red shirt peaking through hi collar. "My blue ones were dirty." He joked. "And somewhat inappropriate for the Skipper of a Starfleet vessel."
"I've signed both requests you submitted with your report." Ross sat down again and shuffled through a stack of PADDs until he found the two he wanted. "Be sure to extend my congratulations to the awardees and your entire crew.
"I will." Marion took a deep breath. "Did you get to read the revisions to the after action report I sent you?"
The smile faded on Ross's face. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands in front of him. "I did. It was a surprise. Especially after I had just finished drafting this letter." Ross handed Marion a PADD.
"This is a promotion letter to the rank of Commander." Marion said reading the PADD. Marion handed the PADD back. "My association with the Maquis is still a crime and I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions."
"I lost over ninety ships in a single engagement last week. I also lost the experience of their Commanding Officers; I can't afford to lose anymore. Luckily I am a Starfleet Admiral during a time of war, so I have wide discretion in matters of discipline." Ross stood. "Commander Marion, you are hereby demoted back to Lieutenant Commander. But in consideration of your recent meritorious service you will retain your command of the USS Nightingale."
"Thank you, Bill."
"Just don't do it again." Ross replied smiling once again.
"No need to fear of that." Marion said, returning the smile. "Now, have you been able to get any information on the Nevlian Esco, or the man named Sloan?"
The Admiral shook his head. "Starfleet Intelligence says they've never heard of either of them. We have received a few unsubstantiated reports of the Dominion disguising there ships to appear to be Starfleet."
"If that was a Dominion ship that abducted us, why weren't reinforcements sent when we escaped? Not to mention the holographic simulation they put us in was a simulation of a Dominion ship. It doesn't make sense."
"It is baffling." Ross agreed. "And I found out one more piece of information that makes this all a little more confusing. We can find no record of a race called Nevlian or any variation. We can even find a race matching the medical scans your Doctor Kizmet provided. But we did find that nevlian is a word in Dominionese."
"What doe it mean?" Marion asked.
"Shamed one."
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The Runabout Phlox had been moved to the Starbase for repair and the Runabout McCoy still rested on the surface of some unnamed planet, but the shuttle bay of the USS Nightingale was surprisingly full. The crew was there, as directed, and they were joined by former patients, some marines, and of course the Klingons. They were all facing where the shuttlebay door would have been, if it had not been opened, and the force field engaged, to provide a view of the massive starbase floating in the ether as a backdrop to the proceedings.
The space echoed with applause as Marion pinned the new pips on Hudson's collar. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Junior Grade Hudson." The CO said when he was done. Hudson shook Marion's hand then rejoined the crew.
When the applause died down Marion addressed the audience. "Lieutenant Hudson was scheduled for regular promotion in three months, but his superb performance of his duties and demonstration of leadership these past weeks proved that promotion was long over due." Another round of clapping and cheers filled the bay. "Now, Ensign Jordan Singer, front and center."
Jordan was surprise to hear himself called. He shuffled out of the formation and walked towards Marion. Rosh was handing the skipper a small box, then the XO took position a few meters away, came to attention and raised a PADD so he could read it.
"Attention to citation." Rosh command when Jordan was in front of the CO. The Starfleet personnel immediately came to attention. The civilian doctors imitated the posture a moment later. Rosh continued, "For heroism and extraordinary achievement in spatial flight as Helmsman of the USS Nightingale, in action against enemy Dominion forces in the vicinity of the Badlands. Assuming the helm of USS Nightingale, Ensign Singer skillfully navigated the intense plasma storms of the Badlands. Although the USS Nightingale was heavily damaged, Ensign Singer out maneuvered two perusing Jem'Hadar Assault ships, resulting in their destruction. His courage and devotion to duty were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United Federation of Planet's Starfleet. I am pound to confer on Ensign Jordan Singer, the Starfleet Distinguished Flying Cross. Signed Admiral William Ross."
The cheers were deafening as Marion took the medal out of the small box and pinned it on Joradn's uniform. And then they descended on him, patting him on the back and shaking his hand. Eventually Jordan found himself face to face with Rosh.
"I understand you've made your decision." Rosh said.
Jordan nodded. "I'm meeting Commander Elliot in an hour."
Rosh extended his hand. "Congratulations."
"Thank you, sir." Jordan said shaking Rosh's hand. "I know Commander Marion isn't an expert of Starfleet tradition, so thank you, sir, very much."
"Don't thank me Mr. Singer," Rosh gestured towards another officer, "thank Mr. Franks. He recommended you for the award."
Jordan was patted on the back by a couple of engineering technicians and nurses as he walked over to the operations officer. "I really don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything. As your superior officer, it is my duty to praise when appropriate." Franks said.
"All the same, I appreciate it. Thanks Clark."
Franks smiled. "You're welcome Jordan."
Their words were almost lost as Captain Torr's voice boomed through the bay. He sang in Klingon, "quv Daq Hom 'Iv tob Daq taH HoS!" His men quickly joined in.
Everyone in the shuttle bay looked towards the unlikely choir as they sang, everyone but Jordan. He looked to the back of the crowd where, standing alone, he was Kizzy. Their eyes locked. The Klingon song seemed to fade away, and for a moment she felt as if they were the only two in the room.
Crewman Doral them patted Jordan on the back and offered his congratulations. When Jordan looked back he saw Kizzy walking away.
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"Well it seems very uplifting." Marion said to Rosh. "I wonder what its about."
"Us." Rosh replied, handing a PADD to Marion. "Captain Torr wrote it shortly after we first parted ways."
Marion read the translation.
Honored are the weak,
Who prove to be the strong
Honored is the Night Bird
Hear her valiant song
The Night Bird who swooped down from heaven just to save her own
Who protected them in the days of storm, far, far from home
Who gave her blood to defeat the beasts that pursued her through the sky
Who invited the beast in one night, so it may hear her battle cry
The Night Bird bruised and broken
The Night Bird barely alive
Joined us warriors in battle
So that we may survive
Night Bird be our brother
Night bird be our friend
Night Bird know your victory
No matter what your end
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Jordan took the long way to the transporter, walking all the way aft from his quarters just so he could pass through the shuttlebay before he left. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because it was where he watched the Noble leave him behind two weeks earlier. Maybe it was because he wasn't ready to do what he was about to. Or maybe he just liked the shuttlebay. He was alone and his steps produced a metallic echo as he strolled across the deck. The shuttlebay door had been left open, and the silence in the bay was a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the starships surrounding Starbase 375.
After a moment Jordan shifted the duffle bag on his shoulder and turned towards the door to sickbay. The large doors opened after sensing his presence and pulled back to allow access to the central space of the Nightingale. Like the shuttlebay, the sickbay was empty, save one person. Kizmet looked up to the door, startled at its opening.
"Hi." She said.
"Hey." He replied, mad at the want to turn and walk away he felt in his gut.
"You're leaving now?" She asked.
Jordan nodded. "I have to meet with Commander Elliot."
"I saw you at the funeral." She felt sorry for the words immediately, but didn't know why. "I'm glad you came, it meant a lot."
"Yeah, well I wanted to say… you know." He didn't know how to finish the sentence, 'I'm sorry your fiancé is dead' just seemed hollow and hurtful.
"I know." She said. "Thank you."
"I saw you at the awards quarters." Jordan said.
"I would of…" She trailed off. "There were just so many people."
"I know." And the awkward wards failed them and they stared at each other in silence.
It was Jordan who finally looked away and spoke again. "So, are you staying onboard? Or are you going home?"
She signed and looked at the floor. "You know I can't go home. Anywhere I go I'll be an outsider." She looked into his caring eyes. "Every time I ask myself where I want to go, I can't help but think of when we were in the raft. I don't know why I think of that."
"I do." Jordan said quietly.
A small smile crept across Kizzy's lips. "I guess I do too." Her smile faded and her expression became more mournful again. "I don't want you to go Jordan. There's no one here… I just wish you would stay."
"I'm not going anywhere Kizzy." He said.
"What? I thought you were reporting to the Noble."
"Yes, but only to tell Commander Elliot I'm staying onboard the Nightingale."
She looked at the duffle over his shoulder. "But your bag…"
"Dirty clothes." He said, smiling gently. "Hud turned off the laundry, I was going to run a load on the starbase while I talked to Elliot."
"Jordan, I…" She threw her arms around him.
He froze in surprise, but after a moment as he felt the warmth of her body sneak into his, he hugged her back. They held the embrace for a long time. When they finally let go of each other they both turned away, not sure where to go from there. They stared out the open door of the shuttlebay and watched the ships slowly orbit the starbase. When the Noble wandered into view Kizzy looked back at Jordan.
"You're giving up your dream. To helm a ship like that."
"No I'm not." Jordan said, looking at the massive starship. "Because here, on this ship, I make a difference."
The End
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