Chapter Text
“She’s not moving,” Icheb said, watching the tracking screen. Lira tapped something out on her console.
“The shuttle commander reports she entered a building on the northeast edge of town,” she said after a moment. “He says he sees a medical skimmer headed for her position.” She gave Icheb an encouraging smile. “Sounds like she made it, sir.”
Icheb was relieved to know that help was on the way, but he remained anxious. He had no idea what the last few minutes may have done to her. He eyed her biometric readout with concern. She was hypothermic, her blood oxygen level was still depressed, and it was extraordinarily likely that she had significant damage to her skin from exposure. He turned to Schmidt. “You almost killed her.”
“She almost killed herself,” Schmidt retorted flatly. “She could have punched out at any time. She chose not to.”
Icheb shut his mouth as he realized Schmidt was right. Maren was just as stubborn as he had been when he had wandered lost in the Martian desert for five days rather than activate his own emergency beacon.
“Commander, I have an incoming comm for you from a Neil Abbott?” Lira said. “He says he’s with O’Connor.”
It would have been imperceptible to anyone but Icheb, but with his enhanced vision, he was sure he saw Schmidt pale slightly. “Put him on audio,” Schmidt said.
Lira touched her console and nodded at the commander. “He’s on, sir.”
“This is Commander Schmidt.”
“Lew. It’s been a while.” The man’s words were friendly, but his voice sounded hostile, and again, Icheb saw a subtle reaction out of Schmidt – there was a slight twitch at the corner of his lips, and his blinking became more frequent. “I’m at the science station at Alert in North America,” Neil said over the comm. “I’ve got a girl here named Maren O’Connor who told me to tell you she made it to safety. Unfortunately, she passed out right afterward. I’ve got medics here taking her to our infirmary. I just thought you should know.”
“Thank you, Neil. We’re aware of the situation,” Schmidt replied, as Icheb fought the urge to speak out of turn and start questioning the man on the comm himself. “What’s her condition?”
“I won’t lie to you, Lew, she looks pretty grim,” Neil said. “Broken nose, frostbite, hypothermia. She’s cyanotic, too, like she was oxygen deprived or something. She said something about a survival test? What the hell did you do, just dump her in the middle of the arctic and tell her to fend for herself?”
That’s precisely what he did, Icheb thought, but stayed silent.
“Miss O’Connor is a Starfleet cadet,” Schmidt said. “You know all cadets undergo similar survival scenarios designed to expose them to the harsh conditions they may encounter in emergency situations on other planets. She had the ability to end the test at any time if she felt her life was truly in danger.”
“Then this girl is either stupid or suicidal,” Neil replied. “Because if she had shown up on my doorstep even five minutes later, I doubt there would have been anything anyone could have done to save her. As it is, if she comes out of this without any permanent damage, I’ll be surprised. Anyway, we’re leaving now for the infirmary. You can contact them for any updates. Abbott out.”
Icheb’s heart dropped as the call disconnected. His mouth had been halfway open, about to tell a perfect stranger to tell Maren he loved her. Now, he closed it and stared at the floor, feeling frustrated and helpless.
Schmidt turned to him. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” he said quietly. “Go replicate some warm clothes and I’ll send orders to the transportation room to beam you down.”
Icheb looked at him in surprise. “Sir?” he asked.
“You heard me. Get down there. I’ll be along shortly,” the commander said.
“Yes, sir,” Icheb said, afraid to say anything else, lest Schmidt change his mind. Feeling stunned and anxious, he rushed out of the monitoring room. He didn’t bother to replicate warm clothes. He just ran as fast as he could to the turbolifts.
****
Maren drifted in and out of consciousness as she floated on the antigrav stretcher. She was surrounded by people, and she picked up snippets of their conversations as she faded in and out.
“Cyanotic … must have run out of air … ”
“Core temp 33.8. I’m going to need a warming suit …”
“... cellular regeneration chamber ready …”
“No, set the break first.”
“I found her ID. This is the girl that was all over the news a couple of years ago. The Daystrom Prize kid.”
“What is she doing here?”
“Abbott said something about a survival test.”
“Her sats are dropping. Get a mask on her.”
She barely felt the hypospray they pressed against her neck, but she heard its familiar hiss. A moment later, everything went dark.
****
Icheb entered the transporter room at a full sprint, in direct violation of Starfleet regulations prohibiting officers running in the main corridors during non-emergencies. He didn’t care if the station wasn’t at red alert – Maren was injured, and to him, that was an emergency.
The transporter chief, a human non-com in his early 50s, looked up from his console in surprise. “Lieutenant, did I miss something?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards and glancing at the totally inactive alert klaxon.
“You should have instructions from Commander Schmidt authorizing my transport to Alert, Nunavut,” Icheb said, ignoring the crewman’s question. His voice remained level, but the words came out rushed.
The chief raised his eyebrows. “Not exactly dressed for the weather down there, are you?” he said.
“I don’t need to be,” Icheb replied. He reached over to the image of Earth on the chief’s console screen and zoomed in on Alert’s coordinates until individual structures were visible. He pointed to the infirmary. “You’re going to beam me directly into the lobby of this building. I’ll replicate whatever I need after I get there.”
The chief shrugged and nodded his assent. “As you wish, sir,” he said.
Icheb turned around and hurried up onto the dais. “Energize,” he said.
“Aye, sir.”
****
When Icheb arrived in the lobby of the Alert infirmary, the first thing he noticed was how small it was. There were only two chairs in what passed for the waiting room, which apparently also served as the information desk and registration area. There were two people in the room – a young brunette woman sitting behind a workstation, and a balding, middle-aged man sitting in one of the visitors’ chairs. Both were human, and both looked surprised to see Icheb materialize out of thin air.
“Sir, can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked.
Icheb nodded. “I’m looking for Maren O’Connor. I was told she was brought here.”
The man stood up and walked over. “I’m the one who called,” he said. “Dr. Neil Abbott,” he introduced himself. He offered Icheb a quick handshake and gave him an appraising look, eyeing Icheb’s youthful face and the two pips on his collar. “Schmidt couldn’t even be bothered to come down himself, eh?” he said, with a bitter chuckle. “Just like him to send a fresh-faced kid to clean up his messes.”
Icheb ignored the comment about his age. He was used to it by now. “I’m Lieutenant Icheb,” he said. “Commander Schmidt is on his way, but I wanted to be here. Maren – ” he stopped himself – “Cadet O’Connor and I are very close. I’d like to see her as soon as possible.”
The man’s face softened. “Ah. I see.”
“She’s in isolation receiving treatment for severe exposure,” the woman at the desk interjected. “You’re going to have to wait.”
“Then I need a complete report on her condition,” Icheb said, desperation creeping into his voice.
“Jessica, why don’t you take him back and let him have a look?” Neil said. “I’m sure Drs. M’riss and Mohammed won’t mind filling him in.”
Icheb shot the stranger a grateful look.
The woman, however, shook her head. “I have to stay here,” she said. “I have to be here when Commander Schmidt arrives.” She then gave Neil a knowing smirk. “You probably shouldn’t be, though,” she said. “Why don’t you go ahead and take him back? It’s not as if you don’t know your way around.”
Neil smirked. “I guess I’ve been in here enough times myself,” he conceded. He nodded at Icheb and motioned for him to follow, then headed for the double doors at the back of the room. “Thanks, Jess,” he said, as they passed by the brunette.
“No problem,” she replied.
As the two men walked down the short corridor to the isolation chamber, Icheb wondered what Jessica had meant when she said Neil shouldn’t be there when Schmidt arrived. He asked Neil as much.
“Oh, that?” Neil asked with a slightly bitter smile. “Schmidt and I have some … history,” he explained. “We were roommates at the Academy.”
“You’re Starfleet?” Icheb asked in surprise.
“Not anymore. I quit eight years in. It wasn’t what I thought it would be.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say your girlfriend is lucky to be alive. Schmidt’s gotten people killed before.”
“On the survival test?” Icheb was unaware of anyone actually having died as a result of the test. Maren wasn’t the first to sustain severe injuries, but Starfleet was very good at extracting cadets before it was too late to save them.
Neil shook his head. “No. This was a long time ago,” he said, with a faraway look. “Way before he was assigned to command. Anyway, we’re not on good terms, he and I. This incident just reminded me why. And Jessica back there just witnessed my epic rage when I realized who this girl is.”
“Maren?” Icheb asked.
Neil nodded. “Yeah. She introduced herself when she arrived at my house, and I thought her name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it, and I certainly didn’t recognize her.” Icheb blanched at that, wondering just how much damage her pretty face had taken. “Then they found her Academy ID card, and I realized who she was. She won the Daystrom a couple of years back, right?”
Icheb nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Neil shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe Starfleet would risk losing an asset like her for a stupid test. That girl is a once-in-a-generation talent and she’s only 22. She’s probably got 150 years or more of innovation in front of her. If I were Starfleet, I’d keep her in a fully-staffed lab somewhere safe, not dump her alone in the Arctic. And I certainly wouldn’t send her into space.”
“Maren wouldn’t be happy anywhere but space,” Icheb protested. “And every cadet takes the test. She could have requested rescue at any time.”
Neil narrowed his eyes. “You sound just like him. Schmidt, I mean. That’s what he told me over comm.”
“It’s the truth,” Icheb said. “But Maren is a singularly determined individual. She does not permit herself to fail.”
“Well, she damn near determined herself to death tonight,” Neil said, as they reached the end of the corridor. “Here she is.”
Through a transparent window, Icheb could see Maren lying on a biobed. The room was hazy with some sort of vapor – something to soothe and repair her lungs, he guessed. She was wearing a full-body silver suit that concealed everything but her face, which was covered in deep purple welts. An arch-shaped device was positioned above her head, bathing her frost-burned skin with light. The area around her nose was swollen and bruised, as were both eye sockets.
Aside from the familiar shape of her slender frame, she was absolutely unrecognizable as the girl he loved. Fighting back waves of emotion, he reached up and pressed one hand against the window. The surface was warm to the touch.
“Doctor M’riss,” Neil said beside him, “This is Lieutenant Icheb. He’s here to check on Miss O’Connor.”
The Caitian doctor, whose fur was a patchwork of white, orange, brown and red, swished toward them with unquestionably feline grace. “We’re warrrming her up,” she purred. “We don’t yet know if there will be perrrmanent damage.”
“When will you know?” Icheb asked, without taking his eyes off of Maren.
“Perhaps tomorrrrow,” M’riss replied. “She’s a fighterrr,” she added. “Most Terrrrans wouldn’t have survived this farrr.”
Icheb nodded, but said nothing. He stayed silent for a long moment. “Can I see her chart?” he finally asked.
M’riss nodded and retrieved a PADD from a nearby cart.
“Chances arrre, she’ll be all rrright,” the doctor said as she handed it over. “There’s just no way to be surrre until she wakes up, and we’re keeping her unconscious while her skin and lungs regenerrrate.”
Icheb nodded. He glanced over the chart, which had details on the treatments they were giving her and was streaming a live reading of her vital signs. Her oxygen level had stabilized at 93 percent. He suspected the damage to her lungs would make it impossible for her to reach full saturation until they were fully repaired. Her heart rate had come down – it was beating at a steady 74 BPM. That was high for Maren, but her body was probably working hard to heal itself, he reasoned. Her blood pressure was normal and so was her brain function. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. It could have been so much worse.
He looked up and peered through the window again at his sleeping love. “When will the treatments be complete?” he asked.
“She’s scheduled for fourteen hours in the chamberrr,” M’riss replied. “After that, we’ll run more tests. When she’s stable enough, she’ll be transferred to Starrrfleet Medical.”
Icheb nodded again, still staring at Maren. It hurt him to see her like this, but he couldn’t look away.
“Come on,” Neil said, lightly touching his arm. “There’s nothing you can do here. If you like, you can stay with me at the lab tonight. The accommodations are pretty Spartan, but it’s warm and it’s close by. If anything changes, we can arrange to have you notified.”
Icheb hesitated. He didn’t want to leave her. But Neil was right, there was nothing he could do for her. She was locked in an isolation room, unaware of his presence. He just hoped she wasn’t in any pain.
He turned to the Caitian doctor. “If she regains consciousness before I return, please notify me immediately,” he said. Then he added quietly, “Also, tell her I’m here and that I love her.”
“Of courrrrse,” M’riss purred.
Icheb took one long last look at Maren; then turned and followed Neil back down the hall.