Hey everyone! Welcome back to the third chapter of 'A Christmas Date!' What can I say about this chapter beside the fact that it doesn't have any Christmas in it? Well, we're still in 2014, and contrary to what you gals were expecting, Bo and Lauren do meet again and not on the best of terms. :-/ Not to worry though, seeing as this is a Doccubus story, I'll right that wrong somewhere down the line! :)
I think there will be another two or three chapters in the past, and then we'll be heading back to the present. This chapter is told alternating between Bo and Lauren POV's.
All faults are mine, I'll correct later if need be :)
Enjoy! and let me know what you think by reviewing! :) Yes, that's right...make the Belgian happy! :)
Love you gals! xx
A Christmas Date
Chapter 3
USS Enterprise, somewhere in the Pacific
Two weeks later
Bo's POV
"He wants to play." I mumble when I follow the commander into his aileron roll, and up becomes down at 120 degrees per second. The commander is one hell of a pilot as he executes the manoeuvre textbook style. Up in the air you need to make decisions in splits of seconds relying on your instincts, your training, what comes natural to you. Flying is feeling, or at least that's what it is to me. Thinking too much, hesitating, debating with yourself can get you killed, so it's essential you clear your mind, that you think of nothing. I'm remarkably good at that, and so I let instincts take over, pull out of my roll a split second sooner than the textbook subscribes.
The commander's taillights come into view.
I take a shot.
I lock on target.
"Booyah!" I shout. After only two minutes of engagement it's all over, and the dogfight part of the training is over and done with.
"Goddamn!" I hear over the intercom system, and a wide smile forms on my lips. "Alright, Major. Good job." Commander Hall comments. "Now let's see how you land your bird."
"Yes, Sir!" I say still mildly grinning, but the thought of having to land my F18 Super Hornet on the carrier is quickly sobering me up. I am an Air Force pilot on loan for a ten month mission on to the Navy to learn from their pilots. One of the most difficult skills to master as a naval aviator is how to land your plane on a moving target and get your tailhook to snag around one of four -preferably the third- arresting wires. Put me in dogfights all day long, and I will wipe the floor with any and all who cross my path. That's what I've been trained to do my entire carreer, but us Air Force pilots stay on land. We take off from Air Force bases with long runways and land on those same long, non-moving runways. It's no wonder then that my first time landing on the Enterprise does fill me with some degree of trepidation.
Don't get me wrong, I've been training to perform this particular manoeuvre for the last three months, and I've got the basics down. But, the ground was never moving at 20 knots when I came in to snag my tailhook at Langley, and training in the simulator just isn't the same. It's a great tool for getting the techniques under control, but it's not the same, it's not real.
This is real.
If I crash this plane I'll most likely kill myself, and I'll be responsible for the deaths of people on board, and considerable damage to the carrier. The thought makes me swallow and I feel nervous sweat collect on my forehead. Nerves don't help a pilot in my position. In fact, nerves can get a pilot killed. I need to just relax, trust my training and trust that I'm a damn good pilot, that the Air Force chose me for a reason, and that those sims I ran back in Langley and here will get me through.
I need to just go for it, nail it, make the Air Force proud, and so I do.
I relax, and pretend I'm back in Langley, that this is just a drill I've done hundreds of times before. I listen carefully as CATCC (Carrier Air Traffic Control Central) advises me of headwind and the carrier's current speed. The Enterprise is in sight, and I bank right. I eye the center line when I'm close enough for approach. My approach angle is at the right 3,5 degrees. I eye the lights of the Optical Landing System (OLS), and see the orange light is dead-center where I need it to be. My speed is good, I'm compensating for side wind, and aim for the number three arresting wire. Right when I hit the deck I hit the gas full throttle. If I miss the cable, I need my plane to have enough speed to take off again.
"Yeah!" I yell out unprofessionally as my plane and I go from 150 mph to 0 mph in two seconds. Taking off on a carrier is like being shot out of the barrel of a gun, landing is like being snagged back with the same velocity and force. It's a rush either way. The flight deck crew taxis me down the runway and I park the plane. I smile when I exit my cockpit. I didn't crash, and I snatched the number three wire. I know it wasn't a perfect landing, but for my first time, I am happy with it.
With a spring in my step I head towards the Tower or the Primary Flight Control to get my landing and dogfighting performance. I knock on the door and go inside. Commander Michael Hall, my senior officer is already inside, and so are half a dozen other officers that are monitoring planes taking off and landing.
"Major, " the Commander greets me using my Air Force rank. "That was some darn good flying out there, better than the textbook." He says, and I smile relaxing a little, but keeping my stance at attention. "At ease Major, " he says seeing my tenseness. "Have a seat," he directs and I take a seat opposite him. "We'll skip your air evaluation seeing as you got me in under two minutes. The Air Force knows how to train for dogfighting. With your consent I'd actually like to use your expertise to train our boys here."
"Of course, Sir. I'd be happy to assist," I say, and he gives me a nod.
"Great. Now, let's talk about your landing. Runny, how did the major do?" The Commander asks Rudy 'Runny' Mede, the LSO, or Landing Safety Officer, and a fellow aviator.
"Little low on angle, but 'okay'. "Good job, Major."
"If this is your first time, I'm sure there are only good things to come from you." The Commander's voice chimes out as Runny goes back to assessing the other pilots' landing.
"I'm just glad I didn't crash, Sir."
"If you had, it would have come out of the Air Force's pocket?" He grins. "You are dismissed."
"Yes, Sir."
"Oh and Major, I know you are not an official member of the Navy, but you still need to check in with sickbay for your physical. Get to that as quickly as possible."
"Yes Sir, " I reply. "I'll go make the appointment now," I say as I close the door behind me.
On route to sickbay I make my way through the belly of the ship with its long and narrow corridors. I take the stairs down to the second deck, right above the hangar bay. As I do I pass a couple of colleague pilots who all 'congratulate' me on not crashing my plane. I have a grin for all of them. Pilots are a competitive bunch, and every single one of them will stick it to you when they have a chance, that includes me. It's the way we operate, we challenge one another by being competitive. At the same time, I know these men and women would walk through fire for me, and I would do the same for them.
It's a couple of minutes later when I step inside sickbay and report to the front desk with my medical file.
I'm asked to wait while the nurse checks my file and schedules me in. It's busy with several other crewman waiting with me. I don't recognize them so I offer them a hand and introduce myself. One of the guys I talk to, Petty Officer Mike Mcgee is a mechanic on the F18s and once I get to talking about F18s with a mechanic and a nice guy to boot it's hard to make me stop. In what seems no time at all, the nurse calls me back and tells me I have an appointment at 9pm. I nod, wave a goodbye to the guys I was talking to and make my way back to the deck.
It's only 4pm, and I'm eager to see the other pilots that are scheduled in today make their landings. It's a sight to behold to watch those jet fighters take off, and every time a pilot nails the landing, I'm in awe of their skill. I watch the landings and the LSO for the rest of my working day trying to learn as much of the repeated process as I can.
Sickbay
I'm back in sickbay. The nurse from this afternoon is wrapping up her shift and asks me to wait for a few more minutes while the doctor prepares to see me. I do as I'm told. There are no other people waiting now, and I honestly think the nurse, me and the doctor are probably the only ones left here. I fiddle with my hands as I wait.I've never been a fan of hospitals. Especially moments like this when they feel deserted. There's something about the smell of the place, the bleach that unsettles me and makes my stomach turn. It's a place I avoid whenever possible. Luckily, I've only ever been here before for minor things.
"Major McCorrigan," the nurse calls me and I get up from my chair and move towards the desk again.
"Commander Lewis will see you in exam room four," she says.
"The Commander?" I ask surprised. Physical exams are usually carried out by either an assistant or one of the General Medical Officer, not the surgeons and most especially not the Senior Medical Officer.
"Commander Lewis likes to do the physicals herself so she can get acquainted with the crew," the nurse answers my question.
I nod my head as the nurse gives me back my file and tells me to hand it to the Commander when I am in the exam room.
Exam room four is just down the hall to my right. I knock and step inside when I'm called in. It's a room only a little bigger than my cabin, but when you're on a ship with almost 5000 other people, wasting space is not an option.
"I'll be right with you," a female voice says as I close the door behind me. The doctor has her back to me, but I can tell she has blonde long hair that she wears up in a ponytail. "You can get undressed behind the screen." The doctor says. Her voice has a certain pitch to it I like. It's direct and communicative, but yet soft and caring like I think all doctors should sound. "You can leave your underwear and bra on."
I put my file on the desk for the doctor, and then do as I'm told disappearing behind the screen to take off my overalls. I briefly wonder what the point of the privacy screen is in the first place when I have to sit half naked in front of the doctor anyway, but I let that thought go and just comply.
When I step out from behind the screen, the doctor is looking down at my file. I can't really see her face, but I can see the frown in her forehead, the one you get when you're concentrating on something. She's wearing a long white lab coat, but it's plain to see this woman has a graceful build, and I find myself anticipating the moment see looks up so I can see her.
"Major McCorrigan?" She asks still not looking up.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Tell me, Major. Do they not take pictures in the Air Force?" She asks about the fact that my picture is missing from my file. I hesitate to answer, and when I do she looks up and I see her eyes go wide.
"Damn," I mumble involuntarily as I recognize the honey colored eyes of the woman who grabbed my wrist.
"You," she says, and just like the night at Clifton House our eyes meet with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. Gods, she's beautiful!
"You pickpocketed Congressman Wayburn."
I blink as her words at first don't register. When they do I curse inwardly. That's why she grabbed my wrist in the hall!This woman saw me pickpocket the congressman. Fuck! I curse battling an inner freakout. What comes out of my mouth is a sort of kneejerk reaction, but as soon as I say it, I realize that it's the only thing I can say in this situation.
Excuse me?" My voice is rather high pitched "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I don't know what you are talking about."
"You are denying it?" she asks incredulously.
"Ma'am, I honestly do not know what you are talking about," I lie again. This time I actually pull off what I recognize as my professional voice. It's even pitched and calm, confident. I lie out of self-preservation, but more so for Sandy, and because I'm pretty sure there is no evidence of what I did.
"Major, I saw you take something from the congressman's vest pocket when you stumbled into him last week," she says her voice certain. "I tried to stop you in the hallway, but you got away from me. Are you denying that you did that?"
"I do not deny bumping into him, but I did not take anything from him, ma'am. You must have been mistaken in what you saw."
"I know what I saw, Major."
"Beg your pardon, Ma'am. As you said, I did stumble into the congressman, and I was trying to clean it up as best as I could. I wiped at his vest in an effort to do that, and that was all."
"Then what were you doing there, Major?"
"Excuse me, Ma'am?"
"If you weren't there to rob the congressman, what were you doing there? You are a junior officer. Did you have an invitation?"
"No, Ma'am, I did not."
"At least you can admit to that," the commander says crossing her arms.
"Yes, Ma'am. There is no point in lying," I say, and I see the Commander's eyes flash in frustration at my words. She's pissed at me, and I can't blame her. I'm pretending to be goody two shoes coming clean about not having an invitation while lying about stealing.
"Even as an Air Force officer, Major, you are to adhere to the Navy's duty schedule, stipulations and conduct," she says the frustration and anger already gone from her eyes.
"I do indeed, Ma'am, " I reply knowing where this is going.
"Then you were unlawfully absent," she says coolly and collected . "And even though I may not be able to bring you up on theft, it is within my..."
"I beg your pardon, Ma'am," I interrupt. "I only became part of the Naval squadron officially at the beginning of the week, and if you check my schedule with the Air Force, you will see I was on leave at the night of the party."
Commander Lewis chuckles humorlessly, and shakes her head. "You have an answer to everything, don't you? So at the night of the party you were an officer on leave deciding to simply crash a party? What was your motive for being there, Major?"
"I wanted to see a friend I hadn't seen in a while, Ma'am," I reply, and the moment those words leave my mouth, I regret them.
"And that would be?"
"That would be Lieutenant-Colonel Jay Daniels, Ma'am." I say not having another option but to give Jay's name.
"So you were at a party you had no place being at to talk to a friend you hadn't seen in a while?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"That's a whole lot of trouble you're taking just to see a friend, Major." "You don't have his cellphone number?"
"Ma'am." I say buying myself some time. I need to be careful what I say here. This woman is smart, very smart. If I acknowledge I have his phone number, she's just going to ask me why I didn't meet up with him some other night. If I say I don't have his number, she's going to wonder how I knew he was going to be there in the first place.
"I've heard stories about the Clifton House parties, and I suppose I simply wanted to attend one too. I wasn't sure Jay was going to be there, but I knew it would be a distinct possibility."
"Why did you run?"
"Excuse me?"
"If you were simply there to see a friend, have a few cocktails, and you didn't steal anything. Why did you run? Why were you fleeing the scene?"
"I didn't have an invitation."
Commander Lewis chuckles. "Major, you just said you were on leave that night. You and I both know the Navy can hardly hold you accountable for attending or even crashing a party as a civilian."
What the hell! Is this woman a doctor or a fucking lawyer? If she's not, she could be! I feel like I'm in friggen court here!
"Indeed, Ma'am. I suppose I felt as if it was indeed conduct unbecoming of my rank."
"Well, if I had just stolen something, I suppose I'd want to flee as well."
"I did not steal anything, Ma'am."
"You keep saying that, Major, and you lie well, but I know what I saw. You stole from a man and fled the scene."
"With all due respect, Ma'am, but you cannot proove what you say I did."
"Not yet." She nods her head. "But if you think I'm not going to verify your story with your friend Jay Daniels, you are wrong."
"Of course, Ma'am." I say calmly.
"I also saw you chatting up to Senator Dennis. Did you steal from him too? Are you running some sort of scam?"
My brows furrow in anger at the sound of my father's name and the suggestion that I might be some sort of con artist. In a flash I am back to a week ago, and the hurt and anger I felt then is as palpable and real now as it was then. The mention of my father's name has a profound effect on me I cannot explain. I'm at the brink of losing my cool, yet somehow I manage not to scream and yell at this woman.
"I will say again that I did not steal anything, Ma'am," I say emphatically, and what gets me through that statement with confidence and without blinking is the fact that technically I didn't steal anything. I borrowed something and that something was returned afterwards. "You are more than welcome to either check with Senator Dennis and/or Congressman Wayburn." I say closing the conversation. She hasn't dismissed me, but at this point I don't care. Without saying another word, I grab my uniform and bolt for the door out of Exam room four.
"I may not be able to proof what you did Major, but, I am watching you!" Commander Lewis shouts out to me as I slam the door behind me.
With anger blurring my senses, I run back to my cabin. I need to call Jay and warn him.
Sickbay
Lauren's POV
My God, she is infuriating! I think not for the first time. The one time I don't listen to my rational mind, and actually choose to follow my gut it comes right back at me and bites me in the proverbial ass!
I let her get away with stealing because I thought she was civilian. She's not though, she's military and because of that she needs to adhere to higher standards, to the Navy's standards of trust, honor and integrity. Those three words lie at the very foundation of any military institution. If a soldier is not honorable, he or she cannot be trusted. If he or she cannot be trusted, then that soldier cannot function inside any of the military branches.
If she had confessed, if she had explained then perhaps I could have found honour and integrity in her statement. If she had spoken the truth then perhaps I could have trusted her.
But she did not do either.
She stole, she lied, she temper-tantrummed out of my office, and yes damnit, she pissed me off!
If she thinks I am not going to call her friend Jay Daniels at the JAG office first thing in the morning, she is mistaken. If she thinks she is getting away with this, she is mistaken again I think vexed as my fingers fly over my keyboard pulling up her service record.
Graduated with honors from Stanford University with a master's degree in engineering.
She's smart, I'll give her that. I scroll through her records with increasing surprise and frustration. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find, but it wasn't this. Perhaps I expected a wild child, or at least a reprimand here or there, some confirmation at least of how infuriating and volatile Major McCorrigan is. Instead, her service record is nothing short but exemplary.
She graduated top of her class every year she was in the Air Force Academy and has one after the other glowing recommendation from her commanding officers inserted into her file. The same can be said for her time at Langley. Her superiors praise her and her -and I'm quoting here- 'superior flying capabilities', and 'excellent tactical insight'. She is further lauded for her cool under pressure, her loyalty and her keen interest to learn and develop.
On paper, this woman looks amazing.
No wonder the Navy was so eager for her to come ;she's a prodigy, a golden child, and no doubt she's the convenient poster child whenever the plagued issue of female representation in the Air Force pops up. As it dawns on me how spotless she is, it also registers how difficult it's going to be to bring this woman up on charges. I sigh realising that if I do not find any proof against her, I need to let her get away with something for the second time.
I'm still scrolling through the pages in no particular order when I stumble upon her family background. What I read makes me swallow hard.
Father: Unknown
Mother Aoife McCorrigan: Deceased
I read the date and my stomach contracts. Isabeau McCorrigan lost her mother at around the same age I lost mine. There are six fosterhomes and seven homes mentioned before she enrolled into Stanford. This woman made something out of herself despite a devastating loss and difficult childhood.
Suddenly I feel like a voyeur, like a creeper looking into her file. I'm instantly ashamed that I was rummaging through it just to find dirt on her and I close it.
Two weeks later
Bo's POV
It's been two weeks and a still feel on edge. Every day I expect to be summoned into the Captain's office, I expect to be told to pack my things either because the Commander got someone else to corroborate her story, or she has proof.
But so far that day hasn't happened, and so I go through the motions of a life on board a ship. I fly my flights, I work on my landings, and I've started reviewing the course book material for the dogfights classes I'm scheduled to teach in a couple of days time. Most of what I'll be teaching will be done up in the sky, and in the sims but there are some tips and tricks mentioned in their material I want to delve into and elaborate on. The biggest difference between Air Force and Navy pilots is the time we spend developing our fighting and manoeuvring skills. As Air Force and demonstration pilots we fly loops, barrels,... push our plane to the maximum of its capabilities and even beyond that. To know what your plane can do, and to push it further, you need to talk to your mechanic. It's why I'm down in the hangar talking to Petty Officer Mike McGee, the mechanic I met while waiting for my physical to be. McGee just happens to be the mechanic for my plane, and he's a treasure trove of information on the plane I'm flying. He has just given me everything I need for the point I want to drive home in my upcoming classes. I shake his hand, before I hurry up to the third deck. I'll make some copies for the group later, but right now I need to be in class myself. All pilots on a Navy ship need to learn the basics of First Aid, and that includes me.
I look at my watch.
Fuck, I'm late!
When I get to the room I need to be, I see the door is already closed. I knock on the door and wait. It swings open and the woman I have been actively trying to avoid for these last two weeks is staring daggers at me. I've been trying to avoid her, but I have actually seen the Commander around before. It's not easy to avoid a fellow officer on a ship like this. Officers eat in a different kanteen than the enlisted men. Ours is a lot smaller. In passing I have nodded to her everytime and everytime she turns her head without acknowledging me.
It's a strange thing to vex me, especially seeing it is a very small price to pay for lying to a superior officer, but it does. It does because I was in the wrong, and also because I stormed out of that woman's office. It does mostly because the thought of being anything but honorable vexes me.
"Commander Lewis." I say surprised. Again I am surprised at the Senior Medical Officer doing something as basic as teaching a First Aid course. "I, I... I'm sorry I'm late." I stumble out my apology.
"Take your seat, Major. Next time you are late, don't bother to come back to my class."
"Yes, Ma'am." I say thankful that she's letting me sit in her class at all. There's a seat still free next to Lieutenant-Commander Eve Davies, one of four other female pilots in my squadron. Eve is one of the pilots I've become closest to since I'm here. She has a warm smile I've always liked, deep green eyes, light blonde hair she keeps rather short. She's an excellent poker player, and has a type of personality that's larger than life, and that reminds me a lot of my best friend.
"McCorrigan, sit your sorry ass down," she says with a smirk and I do as she suggests.
"Got a pen for me?" I ask checking my pockets and coming to the conclusion I must have lost my pen in the rush to get here.
"Late and you don't have a pen? And here I thought you were trying to impress the Commander."
"I have paper." I offer lamely in trade. "And what? What do you mean?"
"The Commander," Eve says. "You get all awkward when you see her around.."
"What? No, it's not that..."
Eve takes the pieces of paper I offer. "I mean, I get it, she's hot."
"No, no," I protest, and add emphasis by shaking my head.
"Really?" Eve says. "That's good.." she mumbles out something I don't quite register.
"Lieutenant, Major. If you're not interested in the class, I can fail you now."
"Sorry, Ma'am," we both say at the same time, and I grab the pen Eve is holding out to me. I want to do my best in this class for the Commander, I want to show her that I can pay attention, be respectful.
For the next half hour I listen to Commander Lewis go through the basic principles of First Aid, and I find myself impressed with the woman. It comes as no surprise to me that the Commander knows what she is talking about, but she makes the class compelling, using examples from the field, and there's a part of me that wonders about this woman whose work ethic and passion for the job is remarkable.
I'm keeping up with my notes, and I'm actually doing fine until the moment the Commander starts using pictures. Up until now she's been explaining what to do in case of different injuries, and it's all been theoretical.
Now, I'm staring at pictures of lacerations, burnt skin, blood,... and my vision is starting to blur.
My heart is beating fast and I know my pulse is racing. It's hard to breathe. I've had this reaction before, and I know what to do. I squeeze my eyes shut, and I repeat the mantra in my head that was taught to me long ago. The images flood back into my mind as real, as vivid and as present as ever before. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real,..." I repeat over and over quietly. It takes me a few more minutes before I snap out of my trance. It wasn't a bad episode I think relieved. When I do Commander Lewis' voice registers.
"Major McCorrigan?" The commander is looking at me, and there's a frustrated expression on her face.
"Excuse me?"
"Can you tell me what kind of bandage you should use to dress a burn wound?"
"I... uhm.."
"Today, please, Major McCorrigan. Can't be that hard, I did just go over the material, or were you just not paying attention again?"
"Sorry, I uhm.."
"You should be, Major. That's three times. At this time I'm going to ask you to leave. If you cannot bother to pay attention during this class, then I don't want you here."
"Commander, I apolo..."
Commander Lewis puts her hand up. "Please just leave, Major."
"Fine," I say a little too loudly. I'm letting anger filter into my behaviour, but not even getting a chance to explain myself just ticks me off. I suppose I should be used to it being a soldier, but I'm not. "This is bullshit," I say before I can stop myself.
"If this is such bullshit, then please don't bother to come back for the other classes. You'll just have to pass this class without my help. You are dismissed, Major," she says putting emphasis on her words. "And this will go on your record."
Without saying another word I leave the classroom. As soon as I close the door behind me the word 'bitch' tumbles from my lips.
USS Enterprise
Off the coast of Japan
Two weeks later
Bo's POV
We're off the coast of Japan and the weather has changed. It's warm, but humid, not exactly the best weather conditions for modern aircrafts or ships, but we deal with them. I'm teaching my classes, and they are going well. I really feel like the guys are benefitting from what I'm telling them and I can feel some of their hot breaths down my neck whenever we go up. I'm all for that, the better these pilots become, the happier I am.
The guys in turn are giving me tips on how to land my plane, and I try to absorb the information as best as I can. So far, I'm scoring OKs but I'm still after that ever elusive 'OK Underline'.
I'm also back to actively avoiding the Commander. After she dismissed me out of her class like she did I don't feel badly anymore about lying to her. It's obvious she's the type of woman that simply doesn't want to listen. When I see her now, I don't even try to salute. We both play the ignore game, and we play it rather well.
I'm on deck doing a last visual check on my plane before I go up. Above me there are planes taking off and landing. I'm climbing into my plane, lowering my protective headphones.
As I do, I look up.
There's something about the roar of an engine above me that has me and several other pilots looking upwards. When the helicopter sways and swoops, tilts to the wrong side and does what I feared it would, I am still surprised. The heavy machine suddenly falls sideways, two of the rotor blades are the first to impact the deck, they bend until they snap like twigs and then the body itself crashes. Part of tailrotor snaps off and flies my way. I jump the ladder, hit the ground underneath me just as the tailrotor takes out my cockpit. When I look back up the helicopter lays there, crumpled and broken on its side. My eyes go wide as I see gasoline pour out of the sides like blood gashing from a wound.
Without thinking I'm running. There are screams all around me, some directed at me, others shouting orders, I ignore them all. The people around me are trained to deal with these kind of accidents, there are rules, procedures to follow, and knowing that they will follow them diligently is a comfort.
But, I'm the type to throw caution and rules to the wind. With the helicopter bleeding, I know I have no time to be careful. I dive into the side of chopper not paying attention to the flames that are licking at the tail or the smell of noxious gas.
Inside there are three people. I check the pilot first, his neck has been snapped and there's nothing I can do for him, but there are two more people in the back, so I make my way from one compartment to the next.
There's a young Lieutenant I don't recognize that has a piece of metal sticking out of her side. She's unconscious and slumped to the side. Next to her there's a blonde woman who is struggling against her seatbelt. She's calling out the Lieutenant's name.
"Gemma! Gemma! Goddamnit!"
It's only now as I hear her voice that I recognize that the other passenger is Commander Lewis.
"Get her out of here!" Commander Lewis shouts as I reach for the pocket knife in my suit."
"Commander, " I say as I'm cutting through the seatbelt the Lieutenant is restrained in. "Can you get free? There's fuel leaking out of this thing, you need to go!"
"No!" Commander Lewis responds after I hear her struggle against her seatbelts.
"Fuck!" I curse as I move underneath the Lieutenant catching her as the tough fiber of the seat belt finally gives way. I throw my pocket knife to Commander Lewis.
"Cut through your seatbelts! I'll be back!"
"Just get Gemma out!"
"I'll be back, Commander!" I yell out as I pull the young Lieutenant with me.
Smoke has flooded the helicopter when I come back from dragging the Lieutenant out. I'm calling the Commander's name, but there's no answer, and it makes my heart skip a beat. The noxious fumes must have made the Commander pass out, and that tells me I have to get her out quickly, but I can't see shit. I can't see anything in front of me and I have to do everything by feeling my way through. I'm coughing as the fumes enter my lungs, so I try to minimize breathing. My eyes are stinging, watering as I go. I finally reach the Commander; she's still strapped in, the seatbelt is only partly cut, and I can't see my pocket knife anywhere.
I try to rip the belt, try to get the belt unlocked, pull it as hard as I can, but the thing won't budge, it won't tear either, no matter what I do. I duck down, look for the knife with my hands alone. I stumble over one or other piece of metal that sticks out the side of the helicopter that is now the floor. As I stumble about, I kick away a small metal object I can only assume was my pocket knife. My desperation grows, my lungs are burning, I duck down, looking for somewhat clearer air and inhale sharply. What I take into my lungs is a mix of oxygen and smoke, but there's enough oxygen still to give me a little bit of reprieve.
"Bo!" A familiar voice suddenly calls out.
"Eve? I yell back. "Eve, the Commander is still in here, I need to get her out!"
"Shit!" I hear Eve scream back. "You need to get out!"
"Help me!"
"This thing is going to blow!" Eve yells back.
"I'm not leaving her! I just need to cut the seatbelt!" Eve doesn't answer me, and I'm back to frantically pulling at the Commander's seatbelt.
"Come on, Commander! Work with me for once, damnit!" I curse out loud.
"Bo?" Eve's voice is suddenly a lot closer than before. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and next I know the Lieutenant Commander is placing a knife in my hands.
"Cut her loose!"
"Yes! Now get out!" I yell at Eve as I start cutting the seatbelt. I'm now coughing wildly as I place the Commander over my shoulder, and move to the front of the helicopter again. I'm on the brink of losing consciousness when strong hands lift me and the Commander out of the burning wreck. I'm dragged away from the helicopter, towards the tower and relative safety.
"I'm fine, just help the Commander." I answer to the strong hands that saved me. I inhale sharply as fresh air reaches my lungs, and my eyes slowly recover from all the smoke. Commander Lewis has been put on a stretcher and they are carrying her below deck.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!
The helicopter blows up and shakes the deck. Debris is thrown left and right, and just like all the other soldiers around me, I dive and duck for cover. When I look back up a fighter jet is coming straight at me and a handful of deck crew.
"Watch out!" I yell, warning the group, but they don't seem to hear my screams. I jump to my feet and dive towards them. I tackle them all to a nearby open door. As soon as we hit the floor hard, there's a crashing sound behind me, and I know we're trapped.
"Fuck," I grunt out in the dark.
USS Enterprise, Sickbay30 minutes laterLauren's POV
"I'm fine, I'm fine," I say as I pull the mask of oxygen from my face. "I need to get back up there."
"Ma'am, you need to rest," Nurse Malik Sayens says to me. His dark eyes are firm.
"What I need, Ensign," I say to the nurse that is tending to me. "Is for you to tell me how Lieutenant Dubois is doing, and then what I need from you is to piss off and let me do my job!"
"She's uhm fine, Ma'am." The young nurse mumbles a little flustered. "Dr. McAfee was able to stabilize her and she was treated for smoke inhalation like you were."
"And Major McCorrigan?" I ask getting off of the bed and going for one of the medical kits in the cupboard.
"Sorry, Ma'am?"
"Is she okay?"
"I uh.. I don't know about the Major, Ma'am."
I'm silent for a moment, and hope the Major is okay. "Walk with me," I say to Malik. "Status?"
"One casualty, 13 with third degree burns. Those with second degree and minor injuries are still flooding in, Ma'am."
"The casualty, the pilot?"
"Yes, ma'am." Malik answers.
"Thank you, Malik." I say. A second later and I'm out of sickbay making my way upstairs towards the deck again. It's controlled chaos with soldiers and medics helping the injured get to sickbay as quickly as possible. I'm heading up to the auxiliary battle dressing station, the dressing station closest to the deck. My eyes go wide as I see the damage to the ship. There is debris everywhere and although the men have gotten the fire under control, the toxic smell of burnt plastic and steel is pungent and nauseating.
"Lauren," Dr. Andrews calls out, and I head straight towards her. "Thank goodness, you're okay."
"Tell me where you need me, Liz." I say. Dr. Andrews was an ER doctor before she joined the military three years ago and as such knows more about Emergency medicine than I do. There is still loud shouting and noise in the background, but I drown it out as best I can as we go to work. I work with her side by side for the next thirty minutes, until we've stabilised the injured well enough so they can be transported.
"Ma'am."
I turn around and there's a seaman standing in front of me I don't recognize.
"Ma'am, could you help us, please? There are people trapped in the Small Tech Room and they might need medical assistance."
"Of course," I say quickly and follow the seaman. The door to the Tech Room is bashed in, horribly twisted, and there are men using cutting torches to open up the twisted metal.
"What happened?" I ask the seaman as we wait for the other men to finish up with their task.
"One of the planes came loose and busted the door in. There are people trapped in there. Must be some of the deckhands. We don't know how badly they are hurt."
I nod at the seaman, and notice that I don't see Major McCorrigan here either. Then I spot Lieutenant Commander Davies looking onto the scene. I turn around and step towards her.
"Lieutenant, have you seen Major McCorrigan? Is she alright?"
"Commander, you're alright," she says visibly relieved. "That's great, Bo'll be glad."
"Yes, Bo, I'm looking for her. Is she alright? She needs to check into sickbay."
"Bo is in the Tech Room, Commander."
USS Enterprise 4 hours later
It's been hours since the a couple of the deck hands got trapped in the Tech Room. Giant spotlights have long replaced daylight, and as the day draws to its end, so does my patience. A couple of hours before, the crew thought they were through until they stumbled upon an obstacle, a second layer of metal, this one from a highly explosive gasoline tank that had come loose when the fighter jet hit the Tech Room. By all accounts it had been damn lucky that the crew hadn't inadvertently ruptured the skin of the tank before, but it meant that they would have to find a different way in.
Blueprints were then brought in, and they decided to enter the room from the side. There was still no communication with the trapped crew possible, and so it was decided not to use cutting torches anymore, the risk would just be too great. No cutting torches meant using hydraulic shears and spreaders to get through layers and layers of some of the toughest steel out there, and that process is long and arduous.
I know these men have been trying, but I can't help but feel restless. The lack of communication from the crew, except for a few tapping noises is what unnerves me most. I do not know who is hurt, how badly they are hurt, and the thought of not being able to thank Major McCorrigan for what she did saving Gemma and myself is eating at me. The thought of never seeing those defiant, expressive eyes ever again affects me.
"We're through!" someone shouts, and my heart skips a beat. I grab my medical kit, and motion to doctors McAfee and Andrews to follow me. One of the Safety Officers, Ryan Wells, a handsome man who looks like a quarterback, heads up the group as we move in. It's pitchblack and what strikes me after only a few steps is how hot this room is; it's uncomfortable. I can't imagine being trapped in here in the dark for hours on end.
I sigh relieved when the Safety Officer begins to shout out names, and crewmen acknowledge with their name and rank. I coordinate my medical team, sending them to the various corners of the large room, while I follow Safety Officer Wells further inside.
It's only when I'm halfway in the room that I spot Major McCorrigan. She's in a corner, she's curled up there, her knees tucked up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She's repeating something to herself, I can't make out what, but I immediately recognize she is in a dissociative state. I approach with caution; without making too much noise and sudden movements. I don't want her to panic. When I'm close enough, I put a hand on her shoulder. "Major McCorrigan," I say trying ro get her attention. She doesn't react, so I try again without luck. After a few more times I sigh.
"Bo," I say now using her first name, and hoping that will trigger her. It's in moments like these where I am much more a doctor, than a commander, much more just a human than simply a job. It's Commander Lewis." I squeeze her shoulders lightly as I position myself in front of her.
"Bo," I say again. My hands move from her shoulders into her dark, thick hair and to her face.
"I need you to look up, honey," I say as warmly as I can. The murmering stops, and next I know she's looking up at me. Her big chocolate eyes look at me, lost, frightened, not really registering what's going on.
"You're okay," she says after a few moments and I can see the relief in her eyes.
"Yes, thanks to you, " I say and reach for the medical kit next to me. "Now, I need to check on you."
"The others?" She's back to those eyes full of worry and concern.
"Being taken care of," I say. My medical team was right behind me when we first stepped into the room, and they quickly led out the other six soldiers that were in here.
"Shouldn't you be helping them?" the Major asks.
"I'd like to check on you first," I say warmly. "Make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine," she says and waves me off. As she does, I notice a pretty nasty laceration down her left arm.
"I need to take care of that," I say pointing at the gash in her arm, but she snaps her arm back the moment I try to reach for it.
"I don't like doctors," Major McCorrigan offers up. "Never have."
"I'm Lauren," I say after a pause. "Just Lauren."
"I'm Bo," she responds and now when I reach for her arm, she lets me handle it.
"Nice to meet you, Bo."
