The Doctor liked his new commanding officer very much and had been deeply concerned when she arrived in sickbay with a serious concussion and small hemorrhages in her cranial cavity following their unexpected assault by the Edrehmaia. Fortunately, Glenn was an officer who prided herself on maintaining excellent health, both physical and mental, and she had responded extremely well to his treatment of her injuries. He had been slowly reducing the cortical inhibitors he had used to place her in a temporary coma over the last several hours, and when her eyes fluttered open, he greeted her with a warm smile.
“Welcome back, Captain.”
She took a moment to acclimate but, as soon as she realized where she was, quickly overcame the quite normal urge to panic and said simply, “Report, Doctor.”
“There was an incident involving our ship and an alien vessel. We have become separated from the rest of the fleet. Several of our major systems suffered great damage in the process, but our crew has been working diligently to restore power and critical functions, and for now we are quite safe.”
Glenn took a moment to absorb this, then said, “Okay. Now give me the bad news.”
The Doctor chuckled appreciatively. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone has been using my head for xylophone practice,” she replied.
“That’s to be expected. You were injured while on the bridge and it took quite a while to get you here and begin treatment. You will make a full recovery, but it will be a few days until we can get you back on your feet.”
Glenn didn’t push him or dismiss his estimate out of hand as many captains in her position might have. They shared an implicit trust of each other’s abilities, and she knew that his medical recommendations were realistic.
“Any chance I could get some water?”
Before the Doctor could reply, a chirp sounded from the comm system followed by the voice of Lieutenant Kim.
“Attention all hands, this is Lieutenant Kim. Harry Kim.” He paused for a few seconds before continuing. “A few hours ago, Lieutenant Ranson Velth accepted an EV mission to repair the ship’s communications array. Lieutenant Conlon and I were monitoring his progress and in constant communication with him for the duration. Ensign Selah held position at the airlock to ensure his safe retrieval. Lieutenant Velth successfully completed the necessary repairs, but before he could return to the airlock, he was approached and surrounded by what we believe to be members of the alien species who brought us here.”
Kim’s voice wavered a bit as he continued. “Ensign Selah is to be commended for her efforts to retrieve Velth under extraordinarily difficult circumstances. The aliens severed Velth’s tether line before he reached the airlock and proceeded to take him with them when they departed. Once they had surrounded him, our communications were jammed. We don’t know why, but I promise you, that is one of many mysteries we are going to solve.
“Given Velth’s oxygen levels and damage sustained to his EV suit, it is our belief that Lieutenant Velth could not have survived for long once we lost contact. He is presumed dead. I wish I could offer the hope that we might retrieve him, but I’m not going to lie to any of you. We don’t have the means right now, and I am not willing to risk further loss of life in an effort to recover his remains. We don’t know enough about the beings who brought us here to speculate on their motives. They’ve left us in peace until now. As our power reserves increase, we will prioritize restoration of our defensive systems as well as our weapons. If they come for us again, we will be ready to defend ourselves.
“I offer my sincere condolences to those of you who served with Lieutenant Velth. He was a good man and an outstanding Starfleet officer who sacrificed himself in the line of duty to ensure our continued survival. His loss is unacceptable. He will be greatly missed.”
As soon as Kim signed off, the Doctor took a moment to recall his memories of Lieutenant Velth and store them in a segregated buffer. Velth’s loss was tremendous and, in the Doctor’s estimation, significantly reduced their odds of continued survival.
He suddenly felt Glenn’s icy hand grasp his. When he looked back at her, she was sobbing fitfully. He placed his free hand over hers and offered the simple comfort of mutual loss as she allowed herself to begin to mourn her friend and fellow officer.
When she had recovered enough to speak, she said simply, “Please bring Lieutenant Kim to me as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Captain.”
In the year that Clarissa Glenn had served the Full Circle Fleet, hundreds of bright and dedicated men and women among their ranks had lost their lives.
Until now, none of them had been hers.
At two memorial services, she had been among the survivors, willing herself into a state of contemplative meditation in an attempt to exert control over the centers of her brain that were processing the painful stimuli generated by the words spoken as all present stood in witness of their collective loss. She could not control the stimuli or the events that precipitated them. But with years of practice she had developed the skills to disrupt what her brain did with those inputs. Focusing on her breath, she could counter the neurons telling her respiratory system to increase its rate as well as the hormonal cocktail that produced sensations of fear, the body’s first response to anticipated pain.
The human body was a magnificent and efficient system
