A continuation of Chapter 1
Originally posted to AO3
The nightmare was over. For the first time since she woke up, the cloud of despair began to part.
No. No, something wasn’t right. Surely she would’ve heard Boimler transport in. For that matter, if someone had a clear transport lock, wouldn’t they just beam her aboard instead? No, this wasn’t right.
Mariner shifted back as far as she could from the intruder who dared to wear Brad’s face.
He looked at her with a curious expression. “Is something wrong Mariner? Well,” he looked around the damaged, sideways, escape pod, “other than all this, I mean.”
“You’re not real,” Mariner shot back. “You’re… You’re just a manifestation by some kind of energy creature. Or I’m actually in sickbay right now with a virus and they have to make me experience negative emotions to save my life. Or I’ve been captured by changelings and this is all an elaborate mental construct that they’re putting me through to learn Starfleet secrets...”
“Of course I’m not real.” Boimler’s nonchalant admission was a splash of cold water. Mariner’s jaw fell open. she had absolutely no response to that. “All of this though,” Boimler waved his finger around, “this is very real.”
“W-what? What the hell is going on? What are you?”
Boimler sighed. “I mean, you’ve already listed off several possibilities. I guess I could be a manifestation of the planet, or a lonely alien child with advanced simulation equipment. Though I have a feeling I probably have something to do with, um,” he motioned at his forehead then towards hers, “that nasty bump you took there.”
Instinctively she touched her head wound, causing her to wince. “You’re saying I’m imagining you?” Her head was still in a constant state of agony from something she couldn’t remember. A traumatic brain injury induced hallucination wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
“I’m more like a manifestation of your subconscious.”
“And my subconscious decided to dress up as Boimler?” She asked skeptically. “Why the hell would it do that? No offense, but you’re not hot enough to be something I dreamed up.”
“Look, you’re hurt, you’re alone, and you’re more scared than you’ve ever been in your life-”
“Bullshit. Now I know you’re lying. I’m fine. Better than fine in fact. I’ve been in way worse situations than this and I wouldn’t conjure you of all people especially if I was somehow scared, which I’m not.”
“Oh come on Mare, who’s the one lying now? You know you need help so your subconscious conjured up the one person you trust more than anyone else in the universe. Well, here I am.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I do not trust you more than anyone else,” Mariner laughed. “You always need me to save your ass. The galaxy is constantly conspiring to shit on you, but luckily I’m there to pull you out of whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Brad rolled his eyes. “Nearly every life or death situation I’ve been in since we’ve met has been your fault. And I don’t need you. You’re the one who needs to be everyone’s protector. You can’t bear the thought of someone you care about getting hurt, and you don’t trust anyone else to keep them safe.”
“You know what, fine yes, whatever. I look out for my friends, but that’s not because of some deep seeded guardian angel complex,” Mariner dismissed. “It would just suck if they died. I don’t want to get stuck working with some boring uptight officers. I don’t want to have to keep diving into trouble for you idiots but you three would be helpless without me.”
“Really Mariner?” Said Boimler. “You only act like that because you love us and being there to shield us from consequences and harm is the only way you’ll allow yourself to show it. You are not the hyper skilled bad ass who has an answer to everything that you pretend to be. That’s a defensive shield you put up to keep everyone, including you, from seeing just how scared you are.”
“Bullshit. I can handle all the shit the universe can throw at me. I don’t need yours or anyone else’s help. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”
“Are you really doing this Mariner?” Boimler shook his head. “You know you’re arguing with yourself, right?”
“I...Ugg, fine. Whatever.” Mariner folded her arms defiantly.
Boimler pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about you start off by showing me what you’ve been doing.”
“Whatever man,” Mariner rolled her eyes. “You’re the figment of my imagination, shouldn’t you already know this?”
“Just humor me Mariner.”
Mariner plopped down on one of the tipped over seats and started to recount everything that had happened. It was the first time since waking up that she’d taken a moment to rest. Something about sitting there and summarizing the situation while Boimler nodded along, helped things feel not so much like shit. She was still probably going to die, but the looming cloud of doom didn’t seem so ever present.
Not that she’d admit any of that to Boimler. She refused to give the hallucination the satisfaction of being right.
As she finished explaining the issues with the distress beacon, Boimler nodded and stroked his cheek.
“Based on what you’re saying,” said Boimler, “I think the pod was hit by something. That would explain all the damaged systems. There’s probably exterior hull damage we’re not seeing.”
“Which could have severed the power conduits,” Mariner completed his thought.
“Unfortunately.”
“Ugg,” she groaned. “Got any bright ideas Boimler? Should I climb out and EVA until I find some loose cables?”
“Starfleet protocol strictly forbids solo EVAs except in emergency situations,” said Boimler.
“And this doesn’t count as an emergency?”
“Mariner, there are a million things that can go wrong during an EVA. If something happens you’ll be on your own in a hostile environment. It’s a bad idea. What about the short range communications system though? It’s still functional.”
“It’s not anywhere near powerful enough to send a signal beyond orbit, let alone call out to ships in neighboring systems.”
“You don’t need to call out across the galaxy. There’s probably an entire starship full of people up there right now working to save you. You just need to have faith in Starfleet and do everything you can to help their plan work.”
“If you haven’t noticed, my crew is raining down all over the landscape!” Mariner fired back.
“You don’t know that,” Boimler tried to soothe her. “Mariner, you don’t know what happened. There has to be something you’re missing about this whole situation. Your mom and the rest of the crew know what they’re doing. If anyone could make it through this shit, it’s them.” He moved closer and looked deep into her eyes. “You have to trust them. Even if the Cerritos was destroyed, there’s transporters, shuttles, and a multitude of ways to evacuate, and it’s not like the Cerritos is a deep space vessel. There’s Starfleet ships all over the sector. Even if the rest of the crew didn’t send a distress signal, once Starfleet realizes what happened they’ll send a ship. There’s probably one in orbit right now.”
“Fine, whatever.” She hated when Boimler had a point. Not that she agreed with his optimistic outlook. “Even if ships are on their way, they’re still not going to pick up a short range com signal through all this radiation.”
“And whoever’s looking for you is actively trying to solve that problem right now,” he reassured her. “You don’t have to do everything yourself. Even now, you are not alone.”
She wanted to believe him. But she’d been around long enough to know that wasn’t true. Relying on others rarely worked out. “Whatever, I’ll do your stupid short range plan. Not like there’s anything else I can do.”
She crouched in front of one of the seats and activated its control panel. Boimler watched quietly as she worked to set the transmitter on a repeating message. When she was done, the escape pod was constantly sending out a default distress message. Maybe it would work, but Mariner was to exhausted to care by that point.
Her eyes fought to drift closed again. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to rest so she could get back to work. No matter what, there would be time for sleep when it was all over.
“What the hell are you doing!”
Mariner jerked to attention. Her vision was filled with an irate and familiar green skinned face with undercut hair.
“Oh, you’re here too,” said Mariner. “I don’t suppose Boims is still around?”
Tendi huffed. “No. Now look at me.”
Mariner relented as her friend examined her eyes and head wound. Tendi was always a ray of brightness in whatever situation she entered. Even an imaginary Tendi had a way of making everything better.
“You’re and idiot, you know that right?” Tendi shook her head with disappointment as she backed off.
“Are you talking in general, or about something specific?” Mariner quipped.
Tendi glared at her attempt at humor. “Just how long were you planning on ignoring what could be a traumatic brain injury?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say I was ignoring it,” said Mariner, only for Tendi glare in response. “Look Tendi, I just had more important, life or death, shit to work on.”
“Well not anymore. Now grab that med kit,” Tendi commanded.
Knowing better than to challenge Tendi, Mariner retrieved the kit she found earlier and sat down. Inside was a hypo spray among numerous small medical instruments and countless bandages, wraps, and vials. Mariner ran her fingers over the vials’ labels, trying her best to make out not only what they said, but remember what they were even for. At one point she knew exactly what was in a standard field med kit, but she couldn’t think over the exhaustion and the overwhelming pain of a skull that wanted to implode.
“That one,” Tendi said, pointing to a blue vial. “You’ve got a major head injury, did it ever occur to you that it might include a brain bleed?” An exasperated Tendi continued to chastise her. “Ten CCs should minimize any bleeding and hopefully reduce the risk of you falling over dead.”
Opting to follow Tendi’s instructions instead of fighting her, Mariner loaded the hypospray then injected the medication into her neck. After packing away the med kit, Mariner stood up to continue her work to not die.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” A judgmental Tendi crossed her arms and stared at her expectantly.
“Um… Getting back to work?”
“No you are not,” Tendi shot back. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since you last slept?”
“Well, not really.”
“Exactly. Come on,” Tendi tapped a drawer that would normally be under a seat, “get a sleeping pad and get some rest.”
“Tendi, I really don’t think I have time for this.”
“Don’t even think about it. As the ranking medical officer here I am ordering you to get some sleep.”
“Tendi you’re not even real, you can’t give me orders. And aren’t you in science officer training now?”
“I don’t need to be real or actively in that division to recognize exhaustion. Now get the bedroll and go to sleep. You need it.”
“Fine,” Mariner huffed. There was no point in arguing with Tendi when she thought she was right. Mariner retrieved a bedroll and thermal blanket from the compartment and unrolled them on what was now the floor.
After settling into her makeshift bed, Tendi crouched down next to her. “Now get some sleep,” said Tendi.
“When I wake up, I’m getting back to work.”
Tendi smiled back. “Deal.”
Originally posted to AO3
Fall From Grace
Chapter 2
“How?” Mariner’s mind spun, trying to grasp at any explanation for Boimler’s sudden appearance. It’s not like she just didn’t notice him. He must have beamed in. Her heart soared. If he was alive others must have made it too. Her mom, her friends, they might all be ok. Another ship must have found them first before locating her.Chapter 2
The nightmare was over. For the first time since she woke up, the cloud of despair began to part.
No. No, something wasn’t right. Surely she would’ve heard Boimler transport in. For that matter, if someone had a clear transport lock, wouldn’t they just beam her aboard instead? No, this wasn’t right.
Mariner shifted back as far as she could from the intruder who dared to wear Brad’s face.
He looked at her with a curious expression. “Is something wrong Mariner? Well,” he looked around the damaged, sideways, escape pod, “other than all this, I mean.”
“You’re not real,” Mariner shot back. “You’re… You’re just a manifestation by some kind of energy creature. Or I’m actually in sickbay right now with a virus and they have to make me experience negative emotions to save my life. Or I’ve been captured by changelings and this is all an elaborate mental construct that they’re putting me through to learn Starfleet secrets...”
“Of course I’m not real.” Boimler’s nonchalant admission was a splash of cold water. Mariner’s jaw fell open. she had absolutely no response to that. “All of this though,” Boimler waved his finger around, “this is very real.”
“W-what? What the hell is going on? What are you?”
Boimler sighed. “I mean, you’ve already listed off several possibilities. I guess I could be a manifestation of the planet, or a lonely alien child with advanced simulation equipment. Though I have a feeling I probably have something to do with, um,” he motioned at his forehead then towards hers, “that nasty bump you took there.”
Instinctively she touched her head wound, causing her to wince. “You’re saying I’m imagining you?” Her head was still in a constant state of agony from something she couldn’t remember. A traumatic brain injury induced hallucination wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
“I’m more like a manifestation of your subconscious.”
“And my subconscious decided to dress up as Boimler?” She asked skeptically. “Why the hell would it do that? No offense, but you’re not hot enough to be something I dreamed up.”
“Look, you’re hurt, you’re alone, and you’re more scared than you’ve ever been in your life-”
“Bullshit. Now I know you’re lying. I’m fine. Better than fine in fact. I’ve been in way worse situations than this and I wouldn’t conjure you of all people especially if I was somehow scared, which I’m not.”
“Oh come on Mare, who’s the one lying now? You know you need help so your subconscious conjured up the one person you trust more than anyone else in the universe. Well, here I am.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I do not trust you more than anyone else,” Mariner laughed. “You always need me to save your ass. The galaxy is constantly conspiring to shit on you, but luckily I’m there to pull you out of whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Brad rolled his eyes. “Nearly every life or death situation I’ve been in since we’ve met has been your fault. And I don’t need you. You’re the one who needs to be everyone’s protector. You can’t bear the thought of someone you care about getting hurt, and you don’t trust anyone else to keep them safe.”
“You know what, fine yes, whatever. I look out for my friends, but that’s not because of some deep seeded guardian angel complex,” Mariner dismissed. “It would just suck if they died. I don’t want to get stuck working with some boring uptight officers. I don’t want to have to keep diving into trouble for you idiots but you three would be helpless without me.”
“Really Mariner?” Said Boimler. “You only act like that because you love us and being there to shield us from consequences and harm is the only way you’ll allow yourself to show it. You are not the hyper skilled bad ass who has an answer to everything that you pretend to be. That’s a defensive shield you put up to keep everyone, including you, from seeing just how scared you are.”
“Bullshit. I can handle all the shit the universe can throw at me. I don’t need yours or anyone else’s help. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”
“Are you really doing this Mariner?” Boimler shook his head. “You know you’re arguing with yourself, right?”
“I...Ugg, fine. Whatever.” Mariner folded her arms defiantly.
Boimler pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about you start off by showing me what you’ve been doing.”
“Whatever man,” Mariner rolled her eyes. “You’re the figment of my imagination, shouldn’t you already know this?”
“Just humor me Mariner.”
Mariner plopped down on one of the tipped over seats and started to recount everything that had happened. It was the first time since waking up that she’d taken a moment to rest. Something about sitting there and summarizing the situation while Boimler nodded along, helped things feel not so much like shit. She was still probably going to die, but the looming cloud of doom didn’t seem so ever present.
Not that she’d admit any of that to Boimler. She refused to give the hallucination the satisfaction of being right.
As she finished explaining the issues with the distress beacon, Boimler nodded and stroked his cheek.
“Based on what you’re saying,” said Boimler, “I think the pod was hit by something. That would explain all the damaged systems. There’s probably exterior hull damage we’re not seeing.”
“Which could have severed the power conduits,” Mariner completed his thought.
“Unfortunately.”
“Ugg,” she groaned. “Got any bright ideas Boimler? Should I climb out and EVA until I find some loose cables?”
“Starfleet protocol strictly forbids solo EVAs except in emergency situations,” said Boimler.
“And this doesn’t count as an emergency?”
“Mariner, there are a million things that can go wrong during an EVA. If something happens you’ll be on your own in a hostile environment. It’s a bad idea. What about the short range communications system though? It’s still functional.”
“It’s not anywhere near powerful enough to send a signal beyond orbit, let alone call out to ships in neighboring systems.”
“You don’t need to call out across the galaxy. There’s probably an entire starship full of people up there right now working to save you. You just need to have faith in Starfleet and do everything you can to help their plan work.”
“If you haven’t noticed, my crew is raining down all over the landscape!” Mariner fired back.
“You don’t know that,” Boimler tried to soothe her. “Mariner, you don’t know what happened. There has to be something you’re missing about this whole situation. Your mom and the rest of the crew know what they’re doing. If anyone could make it through this shit, it’s them.” He moved closer and looked deep into her eyes. “You have to trust them. Even if the Cerritos was destroyed, there’s transporters, shuttles, and a multitude of ways to evacuate, and it’s not like the Cerritos is a deep space vessel. There’s Starfleet ships all over the sector. Even if the rest of the crew didn’t send a distress signal, once Starfleet realizes what happened they’ll send a ship. There’s probably one in orbit right now.”
“Fine, whatever.” She hated when Boimler had a point. Not that she agreed with his optimistic outlook. “Even if ships are on their way, they’re still not going to pick up a short range com signal through all this radiation.”
“And whoever’s looking for you is actively trying to solve that problem right now,” he reassured her. “You don’t have to do everything yourself. Even now, you are not alone.”
She wanted to believe him. But she’d been around long enough to know that wasn’t true. Relying on others rarely worked out. “Whatever, I’ll do your stupid short range plan. Not like there’s anything else I can do.”
She crouched in front of one of the seats and activated its control panel. Boimler watched quietly as she worked to set the transmitter on a repeating message. When she was done, the escape pod was constantly sending out a default distress message. Maybe it would work, but Mariner was to exhausted to care by that point.
Her eyes fought to drift closed again. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to rest so she could get back to work. No matter what, there would be time for sleep when it was all over.
“What the hell are you doing!”
Mariner jerked to attention. Her vision was filled with an irate and familiar green skinned face with undercut hair.
“Oh, you’re here too,” said Mariner. “I don’t suppose Boims is still around?”
Tendi huffed. “No. Now look at me.”
Mariner relented as her friend examined her eyes and head wound. Tendi was always a ray of brightness in whatever situation she entered. Even an imaginary Tendi had a way of making everything better.
“You’re and idiot, you know that right?” Tendi shook her head with disappointment as she backed off.
“Are you talking in general, or about something specific?” Mariner quipped.
Tendi glared at her attempt at humor. “Just how long were you planning on ignoring what could be a traumatic brain injury?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say I was ignoring it,” said Mariner, only for Tendi glare in response. “Look Tendi, I just had more important, life or death, shit to work on.”
“Well not anymore. Now grab that med kit,” Tendi commanded.
Knowing better than to challenge Tendi, Mariner retrieved the kit she found earlier and sat down. Inside was a hypo spray among numerous small medical instruments and countless bandages, wraps, and vials. Mariner ran her fingers over the vials’ labels, trying her best to make out not only what they said, but remember what they were even for. At one point she knew exactly what was in a standard field med kit, but she couldn’t think over the exhaustion and the overwhelming pain of a skull that wanted to implode.
“That one,” Tendi said, pointing to a blue vial. “You’ve got a major head injury, did it ever occur to you that it might include a brain bleed?” An exasperated Tendi continued to chastise her. “Ten CCs should minimize any bleeding and hopefully reduce the risk of you falling over dead.”
Opting to follow Tendi’s instructions instead of fighting her, Mariner loaded the hypospray then injected the medication into her neck. After packing away the med kit, Mariner stood up to continue her work to not die.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” A judgmental Tendi crossed her arms and stared at her expectantly.
“Um… Getting back to work?”
“No you are not,” Tendi shot back. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since you last slept?”
“Well, not really.”
“Exactly. Come on,” Tendi tapped a drawer that would normally be under a seat, “get a sleeping pad and get some rest.”
“Tendi, I really don’t think I have time for this.”
“Don’t even think about it. As the ranking medical officer here I am ordering you to get some sleep.”
“Tendi you’re not even real, you can’t give me orders. And aren’t you in science officer training now?”
“I don’t need to be real or actively in that division to recognize exhaustion. Now get the bedroll and go to sleep. You need it.”
“Fine,” Mariner huffed. There was no point in arguing with Tendi when she thought she was right. Mariner retrieved a bedroll and thermal blanket from the compartment and unrolled them on what was now the floor.
After settling into her makeshift bed, Tendi crouched down next to her. “Now get some sleep,” said Tendi.
“When I wake up, I’m getting back to work.”
Tendi smiled back. “Deal.”
