The Between of Space

Posted on Mon Jan 3rd, 2022 @ 2:12pm by Game Master
Edited on on Fri Jul 5th, 2024 @ 4:15pm

3,308 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Interdimensional Archives
Location: Federation Space (hostile territory)
Timeline: Day 4

Day 4

Talrian adjusted the sensors then immediately put his hands back under his arms in an attempt to keep them warm. Despite the gloves he wore, his natural Joined Trill physiology tended to make his hands and feet run cold as it was, add in a severely curtailed life support system and it was making things much worse. His fingers still moved freely, but the longer they sat in the cockpit the more frozen his limbs felt.

Then there was how his injured leg was continuing to deteriorate, to the point that Corvus was increasingly worried.

The sensor blip moved in the predicted pattern. Talrian tried to focus his attention on it as the first confirmed Federation patrol since they destroyed the station days ago. There was a blip yesterday but it was on the extreme fringe of their sensor systems so they couldn’t accurately say it was a Federation ship. It moved in a pattern that indicated it most likely was, but they couldn’t confirm. This reading, however, was close enough that there wasn’t any doubt.

It also put their shrike craft within the Federation’s sensor range. Ever since they’d been thrown out of warp and into a damaged ship, they were unable to tell if the shrike’s sensor baffling systems were working properly. If they weren’t, then this Federation ship would detect them easily enough. The last five minutes rolled around as if each were years instead of seconds and so far the sensor pattern indicated the Federation ship hadn’t altered their course to intercept.

His main concern with being discovered wasn’t their enemies coming at them and immediately firing on them. They lacked shields and the ability to effectively fight back with more than a few volleys of torpedoes and phasers. He worried more that they would capture the two of them. That worry wasn’t for himself. He wasn’t sure the Federation would even consider him worthy of taking prisoner but if they did…and they didn’t have any of the Dark Betazoids with them, then Talrian’s value would be as a means to torture and break Corvus by inflicting pain and torture onto Talrian.

“Looks like we’re going to be okay,” he muttered to Corvus, daring to feel relief they wouldn’t be discovered. The young sergeant sat at the navigator station opposite him, watching the sensor readings with the same intensity, if not more, than Talrian. Though he continued to refuse to take the narcotic pain reliever Corvus wanted to give him, the throbbing pain in his leg remained constant and was increasing in intensity. As was the swelling and discoloration. Talrian knew, but had not yet come to full terms with the knowledge, that at this point the damage to the tissue was too extensive and his leg couldn’t be saved. Unlike, he suspected, the young man trapped in this doomed ship with him, Talrian was already coming to accept his own death. Still he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and tried not to shiver too much.

“Looks like,” Sergeant Corvus answered with a relieved sigh. He moved forward and switched through several screens, reading the information on each quickly before going to the next. He sat back and shook his head. Talrian expected to see the white vapor plume as the younger man breathed into the cold air of the cockpit, but it wasn’t there. Yet.

By mutual agreement, they’d turned down parts of the life support system, to include heating against the vast cold of space, and closed off areas they didn’t need to use as much, such as the cockpit. They’d jammed the doors to the armory open and tore out a section of bulkhead and shielding that protected the ship’s interior from the heat generated by the engines. That allowed them to stay warmer in the quarters area and if need be, they could go into the sweltering armory area to warm up. Though it was Corvus that claimed he needed to go in there more often, Talrian suspected he did so for Talrian’s benefit, to ‘drag’ Talrian into the area to continue the game they were playing or for some other made up excuse.

“Why’d you join the Corps?” Corvus asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Talrian cast a look at the sergeant and considered the implication of the question being asked. The Systems Alliance command had a much stronger military practice than Starfleet, almost as strict and demanding as the Corps itself. Still, over the last six years Talrian and his team had been allowed to remain together while serving as SA personnel and under SA regulations and restrictions. But, stuck here in this universe, things between Talrian and the team he led loosened due to time and proximity. The last four days, however, chipped away at the detachment Talrian still tried to maintain as an officer with his enlisted command. It seems it was to the point where Corvus thought they were friends. Worse than if he thought they were closer to equals.

But it was becoming more and more within the young man’s character over the last few days. The direness of their situation and enforced togetherness worked to take down those barriers of custom and regulation that existed within a military hierarchy.

Curiously, though, to the part of him that he relegated to Bran, he found himself shrugging. “I wanted to find a way to thoroughly piss off my mother and let her know that she had no further control over my life. Becoming an enlisted grunt, where my previous life of strict education and her control was a complete waste.” He smiled as he shook his head. “Turns out to be a much better decision than I ever thought possible.”

Jeremy chuckled as he shifted in the chair to look out the opened door of the cockpit and into the quarters area where a game of chess was laid on the table. He was also reminded that he left a pot of water in the armory to boil. They’d each lucked out in their breakfast ration packs and found packages of dried coffee.

“What about you?” Talrian asked, “why did you join the Corps? I’m sure it wasn’t to piss off your mother, you seem very fond of her.” It was the one consistently dark spot in Jeremy’s attitude toward their situation over the years they were trapped in this universe - missing his family.

“I didn’t join the Corps, I joined Starfleet.” Corvus answered matter of factly.

“Right,” Talrian said, reminding himself that on the Atlantic, the young man was enlisted Starfleet, but assigned to his team as their combat medic. He’d come to act so much like the rest of them that Talrian would forget he wasn’t actually a Marine.

“I needed something to do until I turned twenty-one and could join the police force like Dad,” Corvus answered. “Disappointed mom quite a bit, but she had by older brother and sister as safe, educated professionals. Dad was proud enough, though, when I told him I wanted to enlist and be trained as a security officer. I figured it would give me an advantage when I applied to the force.”

“But you became a medic?” Talrian asked, still of the strange dichotomy between breaking the wall that kept him from fraternizing with enlisted. Bran was not happy about this breach, despite that his previous host violated those rules with seeming impunity. It was because his former CO broke those rules that Talrian agreed to the last wish of taking the Bran symbiont and saving it.

Jeremy shrugged. “Recruiters,” he said. “I understand they’re not much different in Fleet as the Marines. Mine promised I’d got into security after seeing my entrance exam scores. But Security is a popular enlistment and by the time my tests and enlistment were complete, they had a long waiting list. Since I scored high enough, I got shunted over as a corpsman. But, one of my corpsman trainers was former FMF so sent me down that path. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted but close enough.” Jeremy folded his own blanket around his shoulders as well. “Kind of like you said, though, turned out to be a good thing. Maybe I’ll even try to get my medical license when I’m ready to retire. Mom should be proud to have a doctor in the family.”

Talrian watched as the Federation ship started to move into the fuzzy area at the extreme edge of their sensors. It gave no indication it sensed them and their passive sensors didn’t indicate any transmissions were sent from the ship. Talrian leaned forward and inputted commands into the computer, telling it to create a trajectory backtracking the ship’s course. He used that information to make adjustments to their own course. Even with their efforts to reduce the load on the ship’s engines and fuel consumption, they still had only a week more before the fuel ran out completely. So far they had no indication of a SA ship coming to their rescue nor a solar body with sufficient composition that could refill their fuel tanks.

He sat back, huddled under the blanket and trying to use every bit of body warmth he could muster to keep all parts of him warm while silence spun out around them. During the minutes until the Federation ship was finally out of their sensor range, their heading still not changing, Talrian decided it was time to tell Corvus what he wanted done. Still he waited until Corvus helped him maneuver from the cockpit and into the armory, the heat of that area intense but not so much that he was instantly warmed.

Sitting on weapons crates turned into makeshift seating, Talrian turned to the young medic. “I’ve been thinking about our situation over the last few days and I keep coming back to one conclusion.”

“Captain,” Jeremy said, the instant respect and formality of their situation settling around the sergeant like a cage, “please don’t suggest what I think you’re suggesting.”

Talrian gave the sergeant a look that caused him to quiet. “Sergeant,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m finished, we both know that. In the meantime, I’m using up resources that could better be reserved. I want you to put me into suspension.”

“Captain, please don’t-” Corvus started but again stopped when Talrian raised a hand to stall him.

“My calculations say it’ll give you another couple weeks, at least, to look for rescue or salvation from this situation. If that happens, then you can revive me.”

“Captain,” Corvus said and pushed on, the effort of disobeying Talrian’s continued unspoken order written clearly on his face. Apparently, though he’d become bolder in acting in a more familiar manner, he wasn’t under the delusion that a hierarchy still didn’t exist between them. “You don’t understand what you’re asking. A shrike isn’t equipped for that kind of intervention. I don’t have the proper tools to monitor your condition or to put you into a proper biological suspension. You could die for no real reason at any time. It’s not worth even trying!”

“Yes, it is, Sergeant!” Talrian snapped. The hurt of the tone and immediacy of the reply showed on Corvus’s face. Talrian took a deep breath. “I understand the risks and if I weren’t so injured, then I would agree with you. But I am injured. I’m using up food, water, oxygen at a rate that’s akin to theft as I view it. You put me in suspension. I have faith that you’ll do everything in your ability to keep me safe. If I have to make it an order…” he trailed off. He was sure that since Corvus found him injured on the station he’d not issued a single order to the sergeant.

Corvus stood and walked to the jammed doorway where he stopped, his back still to Talrian. He pounded lightly on the doorway. “Captain,” he said, remaining turned away. “Please don’t ask me to do this. Please don’t order me to do this.” He remained turned away as his head and shoulders lowered as if he were defeated in some way. “I’d be alone. All alone, everyone that I know and love gone. All it would accomplish is that I might have another couple weeks until this ship dies and I die with it. Alone. Please,” his voice took on a note of anguish as he fell against the doorway. “Please don’t make me go through the end alone.”

Damn it to hell, Talrian thought. Part of him wanted exactly that. He wanted Corvus to put him in suspension even knowing how likely it was that his system would shut down and he’d die. He thought it would be easier for the medic if Talrian died that way, knowing that it was just part of the process of trying to keep them both alive for a much longer time. He thought it’d be taking the burden off watching Talrian slowly succumb to the infection running through his wounds and knowing that his medical resources would run out and there would be nothing more he could do. “Sergeant,” he said, trying to keep his tone calm and - yes - cold. He knew in the end it wouldn’t matter. Another two weeks, another two years, wouldn’t matter. They were too far into enemy controlled space. Hell, they’d need at least twenty years at this point to even hope for a chance at rescue. They were done for no matter if Corvus put him in suspension or not. Even if Talrian’s system didn’t shut down because something went wrong with the suspension, or Corvus managed to keep him stable inside of it, Corvus’s time was limited. When the sergeant succumbed to the ship’s systems going offline, Talrian’s own death wouldn't be that far behind.

“No, sir!” Corvus spit out as he turned to face Talrian. Talrian saw the wet sheen in his eyes that threatened to spill over but also the defiant determination that thrummed through the sergeant’s body. “I won’t obey those orders! I won’t! You can reprimand me, you can shout at me, you can put me up on charges and confine me to my bunk, Captain, but I won’t do it! I…” he fell against the wall and slid until his knees were pressed against his chest. “I can’t spend the next few weeks waiting to die knowing that all of you have done so just to give me days more. Knowing that it won’t matter a single bit.” He stared directly at Talrian, “Captain, don’t. Please, just don’t.” He buried his face in his knees then. “I know it doesn’t matter to you, that you’ve been stuck with me all this time because of what happened to our ship, but it matters to me. You’re a good man, sir, a good officer who’s treated us well all this time.” He took a deep breath. Talrian wanted to say something, to head off whatever the sergeant was going to say now because he knew he didn’t want to hear it. It would irrevocably alter everything between them.

“You and the others have become the only family I’ve known for the past six years. We’re all that’s left, sir. Just you and me. You can’t ask me to just let you die and live with that.”

Talrian let out a heavy sigh. He knew it was that, or something very much like it. He’d hoped the sergeant wouldn’t understand what he really wanted out of his request, though he was sincere that he wanted to give Corvus more time and whatever incredibly slim chance that gave him. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay,” he said louder, swallowing against a suddenly dry and scratchy throat. That reminded him that they were boiling water to enjoy a rare cup of full strength coffee for the both of them. Corvus stared at him for several long moments before he looked away, shame apparent on his face. He used the heels of his hands to try to wipe his face dry.

“Thank you, Captain,” he muttered, still refusing to look at Talrian.

Talrian shifted, opening the blanket as the heat of the room began working to warm him. “My leg is getting worse,” Talrian said. “Another few days without indication that the infection is receding and you’ll need to amputate.”

“I know,” Corvus said, shaking his head. “I know.” Corvus shrunk further within himself, still defeated.

They sat in silence, not the easy, companionable silence they’d enjoyed only a short while ago in the cockpit, but a heavy, suffocating silence that wrapped around them in a stranglehold. When he couldn’t take it any longer, Talrian looked to the makeshift kettle. “Sergeant,” he said, forcing himself to sound more cheerful than he actually felt. “I believe there’s coffee to be had and if I remember correctly, I just put you in check.”

Jeremy looked up, incredulous, then gave a weak, forced smile. “Yes, sir,” he muttered but then there was a glint in his eyes as he spoke his next words. “Bishop to queen six.”

Talrian scowled, not immediately understanding but then it hit him. Not only had the sergeant removed the threat to his king but made Talrian completely vulnerable to attacks from two sides. He shook his head and the sergeant’s smile widened, tension bleeding out of it and the distance between the two men. “Get me back to that board so I can show you how experience will beat out cheap tricks every time.”

“Sure, Captain,” Corvus said as he lumbered to his feet then helped Talrian to his. “I’d be most appreciative of learning that lesson, sir.”

“Don’t try that obsequious NCO bullshit on me, Sergeant, I invented most of it.”

Jeremy chuckled. Talrian didn’t know why, but he wished he could let Corvus’s parents know what a fine young man they’d raised and gave to him through several dire circumstances. He kept a firm grip on the sergeant as they reached the bench at the table. “Jeremy,” he said, using the sergeant’s first name familiarly for the first time, he was sure, since meeting the young medic as they both reported to duty on the Atlantic. “I want you to know, I was never stuck with you. Not once. I requested your transfer to the Atlantic and told Command I wouldn’t enlist with the SA unless they agreed to keep my team together. I want you to know that, I want you to know I’m proud to know you and serve with you.” He released his grip on the sergeant and settled on the bench. “I’ve never met your dad, but if he knows you even a fraction of how I’ve come to know you, well then, he’s very damned proud of his son.”

Corvus took a step back, just staring at Talrian then muttered, “Understood, sir,” as he turned to the armory to get the kettle and make the coffee. It took him several minutes before he returned to quarters, the kettle and two steaming cups on a tray.

 

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