9
Chapter 52
David sat at his desk…a stack of padds laying before him.
He picked up a padd…and read through it slowly. His facial expression slowly grew grim as he read.
"Fifteen decks with ruptures…" David sighed. He tossed the padd onto the desk.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose…and squinted.
David grabbed another padd.
His expression became even more wary.
"Fifty casualties,"
David threw the padd down even more aggressively.
He rubbed his face with his hand; he noticed his reflection in the mirror.
All he could see was himself.
David grabbed one last padd; he very slowly picked it up from its resting place.
He stopped himself from reading it for a moment; he watched his reflection in the mirror.
It was only him; no reflections…no tricks of his eyes.
It had always been him.
He felt himself beginning to slip back; for a moment…he felt like curling into a ball.
"I'm guilty," he said quietly to himself.
He felt incredibly comfortable saying it; he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He glanced down at the padd in his hand; at the top it read: fatalities.
David set the padd down.
He didn't need to read it to know he made a mistake.
He didn't need to do anything.
But he wanted to make things right.
Ed laid scrunched under a console; in one hand was a tool. In his mouth was a replacement part.
He tried to loosen the faulty part…but his fingers slipped off of the tool.
He tried again…but he couldn't muster up enough arm strength.
He let out a loud groan…and laid there for a moment, huffing and puffing.
A young crewmen approached him…and knelt down beside him.
"Sir?"
Ed peered from beneath the console.
"What?"
"Do you…"
"No…I can get it," he replied…frustration dripping in his voice.
He tried pulling the part again…but it wouldn't budge. Instead…the tool ricocheted…and nearly hit him in the head.
"Crap!"
He laid there again for several minutes…becoming increasingly frustrated.
"Are you…"
"Yes!"
Ed glanced around at the crumbling engineering. He thought of the multitude of systems that were malfunctioning.
"I need to get this done!"
He made one final desperate attempt to get it…but this time the tool bounced back and hit him in his head.
"God!"
He tossed the tool across the room with all of his might; he sat there for a moment nursing his head.
Other engineers glanced over…slightly awestruck by his outburst.
He sat there for awhile…feeling completely defeated by a simple part.
"It was so easy when I was a kid," he thought to himself. "Why the hell can't I do this now?"
He slowly rose to his feet; he looked down at his hands. They were covered in oil and grime.
He glanced at the warp core…resting a hand on his hip.
He wiped away some grime from his face with his wrist.
He felt completely helpless.
He thought of one time when he was a kid…he'd taken apart and put back together an old combustion engine…ten minutes flat.
He could see it clearly in his mind…he could picture himself doing it.
Ed glanced back at the part on the console…and winced in disdain.
He could remember how he felt while doing it.
How he felt.
He enjoyed it.
In fact…there was nothing he'd loved more than taking things apart.
He sat down on the floor…and rested his back against the wall.
"Why did I…"
He started gently wringing his hands impulsively.
"Why…"
His eyes grew a little. He felt a pit in his stomach.
He looked down at his feet.
"I needed you…no one else believed in me,"
"I know,"
Ed's head shot up; he flashed a look of embarrassment.
David was standing over him. He held out his hand…and helped Ed to his feet.
David looked him in the eyes.
"I'm sorry…I should have never left,"
Ed said nothing; the pair hugged for a brief instant.
Ed could slowly feel a warm sensation in his chest.
His eyes lit up…and smile spread across his face.
"Yes!"
David flashed a small smile.
"I gotta go," he said…heading towards the door. "I just wanted to…you know."
Ed laid down underneath the console; he took the part off in a split second.
"I'm back, baby!"
Crewmen flashed him more odd looks; he replaced the part and got to his feet.
"Alright, everybody! We've got miracles to work!"
The crewman slowly circled around him…looks of hopelessness slowly being replaced with expressions of excitement.
"What do you think this is?" Theuma asked…pointing at a cluster of lights.
He and Dickie were shoulder-to-shoulder stellar cartography.
The pair were hunched over a lighted map to holographically protruded from a center console.
"I don't know," Dickie grumbled.
He was leaned over the console on his elbow…face in the palm of his hand. His eyes wandered with disinterest.
"This," Theuma said pointing. "This looks like that dwarf star we passed."
"Yeah,"
"Hmmmm…I'm not really seeing anything particularly familiar,"
Theuma turned to Dickie.
"Do you?"
Dickie yawned.
"No,"
Theuma looked Dickie up and down.
"Lieutenant…is this not fascinating to you?"
Dickie shot him a look then glanced around. A moment of silence passed.
"I see,"
Theuma began typing on the set of buttons in front of him. Dickie slowly moved to a star chart on the wall and fiddled with a few of the dials.
"This," he said aloud. "Is so boring."
Theuma glanced up…but said nothing.
"This is grunt work,"
Theuma shot him a look of irritation.
"Lieutenant, can you focus for five minutes?"
Dickie turned around and glared at Theuma. He let out a slight grunt.
"I have better things to do,"
Theuma looked up and folded his arms over his chest.
"Do you want to go home?"
Dickie slowly circled him…dragging his finger over the edge of the console.
"Yeah," he mumbled.
Theuma let out a huff of frustration.
"Then help!"
Dickie shoved up against Theuma…returning to his original position.
Theuma glanced over at him and glared.
Theuma was a short and skinny fellow…so Dickie's stocky frame could move him by six inches if not a foot.
"I should be up there…not him," he murmured.
Theuma was carefully examining a star cluster.
"Meaning what?" his voice dripping with irritation.
"He's just an asshole who can throw a lucky punch. I studied hard, excelled in almost everything I did. But that swaggering, Jack Nicholson-esque Neanderthal is the one sitting in the chair. That's just not fair,"
Theuma paused and glanced up.
"Jack Nicholson?"
Dickie harrumphed in irritation.
"Didn't you take ancient history?"
Theuma returned to his work.
"To top it off…he's going to run us all into the ground. I'm sure he's still going to send us on some half-baked rescue attempt and get us all killed,"
"Lieutenant…do you ever shut up?"
Dickie's face turned a shade red.
"I should be the one in command…not him!"
Theuma stopped and looked over at him.
"But you're not…get over it,"
Dickie turned even redder; veins started popping out of his face and his nostrils started puffing.
"Didn't your parents ever teach you…the world doesn't revolve around you?"
Dickie grabbed him by the short…and looked as though a thousand profanities were about to escape his lips.
"DON'T YOU EVER…"
Theuma slapped him across the face.
Dickie slowly cowered to the edge of the table…nursing his face and still fuming.
Theuma looked him dead in the eyes.
"That's it…isn't it?"
"You don't know me!" Dickie spat back.
Dickie slumped over the edge of the console…thinking of his father.
For a split-second…he thought of explaining. But it was too complicated.
He would never understand.
Theuma noticed the look in his eyes…and softened a bit.
Dickie noticed his vulnerability…and quickly hid it.
"Mind your own business!"
Several moments passed; the only sound that filled the room was Theuma hitting buttons.
Dickie positioned himself on the edge of the console…staring out the window.
"Lieutenant…have you thought maybe you should just help?"
Dickie didn't move.
"I'm not doing this crap,"
Theuma shook his head.
"I don't mean this…I assumed I'd be doing this on my own ten minutes ago. I mean the crew…I mean David,"
Dickie grunted.
"He doesn't deserve my help,"
Theuma finished some calculations.
"Maybe instead of routing him at every opportunity…and sulking about what ifs…you could give him and us a fighting chance for survival,"
Dickie slowly turned…and shot Theuma an expression of surprise.
"You really…"
Dickie stopped himself; he caught the words in his throat…and quickly resumed his glower expression.
"Yeah…whatever,"