The Bolian Rescue

Posted on 27 Sep 2024 @ 7:57pm by Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast & Crewman Apprentice Thobius Chaluk
Edited on on 27 Sep 2024 @ 9:45pm

1,424 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Stranded
Location: Deck six

Ensign Chell walked slowly down the corridor, moving cautiously so as not to spill whatever was in those fracking containers Zhao had given him. The amber light coming from the liquid was giving his blue skin some greenish tones that reminded him of that time he'd caught some Iridian virus when he was a child.

So far he had managed to get eight people back to the Science lab. The young scientist who had come up with this solution to cast some light in the corridors was taking care of them back there, apparently well enough that no one else seemed to have died.

Chell placed the makeshift light on the ground and pushed aside some of the debris that littered the deck. As he was straightening his uniform and getting ready to head back toward the Science lab for another canister (just how many of these could that tiny little scientist churn out?) he heard noise coming from somewhere nearby. A loud noise, like someone tossing around one of those old-fashioned metallic lockers.

Inside the control booth room, Chaluk had regained consciousness. He had no idea how long he had been out, but when he came back to (or at least he thought he had, who knows, this could all be fake and in his, or someone else's, head), he had gotten back to his feet and yelled for help until his voice failed him. He could no longer yell. When he tried, his voice barely made a whisper. Even in conversational volume, his voice was full of gravel and dust, barely able to even hear himself. So he resorted to working out how to call for help, while simultaneously working out his frustration for having to wear a Starfleet uniform, for being trapped and blind, for failing as a proud Romulan, by kicking, over and over, with all his might, the cabinet that had been the ire and bane of his existence.

Chell's senses prickled as he strained to hear any kind of noise. The hum of the engines was absent, as was the usual nearly unbearable hiss of the ventilation from the life support system. There were no footsteps from crewmembers strolling down the corridor, no hushed conversations. No electromagnetic hum from the equipment. Everything was perfectly quiet. The silence was almost deafening.

He moved from door to door, straining his ears to pick up any sign of life from within. By the time he reached the fourth door on his left, he had almost given up, believing that the noise he had heard was a structural beam buckling, for no doubt the structural integrity field was weakening. But then he heard a groan coming from the other side of the door.

He grabbed the edges of the double doors, and pushed them apart effortlessly. There was, of course, no light coming from inside the room. But his Bolian eyes, reaching deeper into the infrared band than human eyesight, picked up a vague humanoid shape lying one corner of the room.

He walked carefully toward it, and stopped suddenly when something crunched underfoot. He paused, listened, and took another cautious step forward. Something crunched again, but nothing exploded, and nothing fell on him, so he figured he was simply stepping on debris.

Chell thought about going back for the canister to shed some light in the room, but decided to check on the body first. He knelt next to it, and reached out to touch the neck, feeling for a pulse. One thing common to all humanoid species, you could always feel a pulse at the neck. Sometimes you had to move your fingers a bit to the right or to the left, sometimes you had to press harder, but it was there.

As it turned out, he didn't have to feel the neck, for the crewman moved.

"Careful friend," said Chell. "I'm not a medic, but my guess is you probably shouldn't move."

Thobius had heard the door open, the crunching across the deck, and had feared for his life. Being blind and not able to see anything, it only heightened his fear and his nerves. Just as he was touched, he jerked hard and recoiled. The voice that came from the darkness, however, was kind and friendly. "Am I...am I safe," he asked. "Oh, thank D'ravsai," he exclaimed, reaching for, grasping for, yearning for, a friend.

"Easy, friend," said Chell. He took hold of the other man's hand. It felt cold and clammy against his own, but then Bolians had a warmer body temperature than most other species. But there was a wetness to the touch that couldn't be attributed to body temperature or clammy hands. The unmistakable scent of blood now clung to Chell's hand.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked.

Thobius had thought of precious little else than his predicament, and the pain we was in. Most of it was by his own doing, but he would not admit that, not right now when everything, including his pride, had been wounded. "My hands. And my right knee," he said, his voice betraying him as it cracked and was barely above a whisper. "And my throat. I think I yelled too hard," he added. "I can't see anything. Totally darkness. Am I blind? And, who are you?"

"I am Ensign Chell. Cargo bay supply specialist. You are not blind, there is no power anywhere on the ship, so no light whatsoever. Did you hit your head or injure your neck or your back?"

Relief was evident in his voice that Ensign Chell didn't believe he was blind, and it was evident in his voice. "Thank the heavens. No sir, I do not believe I hit my head or neck, and my back feels fine," he reported. "Sir, if there is no power, and I cannot see, then how are you able to see?"

"I'm Bolian," explained Chell, aware that the man couldn't see him, or his blue skin. "We can see deeper in the infrared spectrum than most humanoids. What's your name?"

"I am Crewman Apprentice Thobius Chaluk, sir, Master-at-Arms. I was trapped under, I think, a cabinet when the ship rocked. What happened? Is anyone else alive? Are we going to die here?"

"I don't know what happened," said Chell, pulling Chaluk to his feet. "All I know is that everything turned upside down and sideways. Many people have been injured, and I would guess that there are many casualties as well. We have set up a temporary refuge in Science Lab Two. I will take you there."

Standing up again, the ache in his knee was pronounced, but he was unable to walk unaided, though with a limp. "More people? Yes, please," he stated, letting the Bolian take the crook of his arm, guiding him slowly and carefully out of the control room. "I genuinely thought I was the last person alive." As soon as they entered the corridor, Chaluk could see for the first time. He was beyond elated, but more than that, the nightlights set up piqued his curiosity mroe than his thankfulness that he was not blind. "What are those," he asked, pointing to the...whatever they were in the middle of the corridor, with his bloodied and mangled left hand.

""One of the scientists set this up," said Chell. "It uses some sort of biochemical reaction to make light. Not much, but enough to guide us to the Science lab."

"Ingenious," he said, almost under his breath. "Sir, thank you for saving my life." He meant it. If the Ensign hadn't come, Thobius believed he really would have died in there. He was thankful that he had good crewmates, thankful that he was part of a team, thankful that he lived in a society that was so caring and selfless. He was incredibly proud to wear the Starfleet uniform, and be a part of the Federation. Deep in the back of his mind, he knew he had been cursing these very things, but he was scared, and was lashing out. He figured the Gods would forgive him this trespass.

"Simply carrying out my duty," replied Chell. He wrapped the injured Thobius's arm around his shoulders, thankful that they were approximately the same height. "I will walk slowly. Let me know if I need to go slower, or if we can go faster. We will get there together."

"Together," Chaluk said, loving that idea.


OFF

Crewman Apprentice Thobius Chaluk
Master-at-Arms
USS Cygnus

and

Ensign Chell
Cargo supply specialist
USS Cygnus

 

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