Fiction: Star Trek: Darkness Visible, Part 18

Previously on A Mind Occasionally Voyaging…

Jim got to main engineering ahead of Pike, in time to hold him back from rushing the safety door. “You’ll flood the whole compartment!” warned the chief.

“Una?” he asked.

McCoy shook his head. “I’m a doctor, not a fortune teller. That much radiation, I just don’t know. If she were human, she’d be dead five times over already.”

Pike leaned on the transparent partition. “Una!” he called out again.

She stirred, her head turning broadly toward the sound of his voice. She clumsily pulled herself to her feet, pressing her whole forearm to the console rather than grabbing it with her fingers. She wobbled, then collected herself. She tugged at her prison uniform, straightening it as best she could, though again, she used her arms rather than her fingers. Una stumbled toward the transparent wall, and as she approached, Pike could see her eyes were unfocused. He had to force himself not to look away from the burns that marred her face.

She misjudged the distance slightly and walked into the barrier that separated them. Her cheek left a wet mark where it touched the wall. She put a hand up to steady herself. It too streaked the surface. Her fingers splayed limply: she had no fine motor control left, and her skin was raw and weeping. She rested her forehead against the wall and tried to turn her eyes to where she imagined Pike’s would be. He moved to meet her vacant gaze.

“Ship?” she asked, in a raspy voice. “Out of danger?”

“Yes,” Pike said. He placed his hand to match hers.

“And La’an?”

“Recovering,” Pike said.

Una nodded. Or perhaps just wobbled. She let herself slide down the wall into a crouch. Pike followed her movements.

“All right then,” she said. “Took you long enough to come get me.”

“I’m sorry. I should have tried harder.”

“You had your mission.”

“You should’ve been my mission,” Pike said.

“Chris…” Una said, “I’m scared.”

“I’m here, Number One,” he said.

“It’s time.”

Pike looked over his shoulder. “Vent the chamber,” he said. “The second he can get a lock, have Chief Kyle beam her directly to sickbay. Tell M’Benga to prep for radiation and decompression sickness.”

Both McCoy and the chief engineer started to protest, but Jim Kirk reacted without hesitation, putting in the call to the transporter room even as he disabled the safety interlock that protested at the command to purge the irradiated atmosphere while the engine core was occupied.

Una managed to get back on her feet. Her hair flew wildly around her, blown by the rush of air as the room depressurized. Her exposed skin began to glow bright red. “I’ll be damned,” McCoy muttered. “Ilyrian healing trance. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Bones, will it work?” Kirk asked.

“I’m just an old country doctor,” he said. “This? This is more like magic. I don’t know.”

“I’ve got a lock,” came the voice of the transporter chief. “Energizing.” The red glow began to fade, replaced by the blue one of transport.

Kirk helped Pike back to his feet. “My God, Jim,” he said, “So many people. Reliant. Regula. Sallius. Erica. Una. Sam. What have I done?”

Kirk thought for a second. “What you always do,” he finally said. “What you had to do. You faced the no-win scenario and saved as many people as you could.”

Pike turned away. “Not enough,” he said. “Never enough.”

---

Admiral Pike stood at the end of the loading railway as the mechanical arm lowered the mark 6 torpedo casing onto the track. To his right, Sulu lifted the Federation flag from the casket and stepped away. McCoy put a hand on Jim Kirk’s shoulder. To Pike’s left, Christine Chapel held Uhura’s hand supportively. Even Saavik struggled with her composure.

“We are assembled here today,” Pike started, “To pay respects to our honored dead. When you are a Starfleet Captain, you believe in service. In sacrifice. In compassion. And in love. We stand here today because of the sacrifice of so many people. They did not believe the sacrifice a vain or empty one, and we will not dishonor them by questioning it.”

He stepped aside and allowed Kirk to move forward. “George Samuel Kirk Junior never sought his own command. He was a scientist. I know he would be honored to be laid to rest on a strange, new world, one his sacrifice helped to create and nourish. Of my brother, I can say only this: few among us have been called to give so much, or to face so much pain. And if anything awaits us in that undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns, I hope you find peace, Sam.” He placed his hand on the casket. “Give my love to Aurelan and the boys.”

Sulu called the honor guard to attention. A dirge played on bagpipes as the casing moved slowly down the rails into the torpedo launcher, where Enterprise fired it in a pale red arc to the Genesis planet below.