The Last Full Measure

Posted on Sat 3rd Jun, 2017 @ 11:39pm by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington
Edited on on Thu 8th Jun, 2017 @ 2:18pm

533 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Unity Week
Location: Wellington's Quarters-- 0200 Hours
Timeline: Before the mission starts

*****

"Syndrome to Reaper! It's getting too hot up here! We're outnum..." before the comm went dead.

The explosion outside her cockpit told her what had happened to Syndrome--her wingman. "Reaper to all pilots! Fall back!" came Wellington's voice as she pulled a hard turn in her Valkyrie fighter.

"Those breen fighters will eat us alive if we retreat, Brooklyn," came the voice of her Weapons Officer sitting in the seat behind her.

James was the only person she would allow to call her by her first name. Despite regulations, she and James had a relationship--yet could work as one in the attack fighter--reading each other's thoughts about situations and their tendencies. "We're going to cover their withdrawal. You up for it?"

"Yeah..." James said, knowing the odds of survival were slim. "Let's give 'em hell."

...................

"We're going down! Brace for impact, James! James?" Brooklyn did her best to level out the damaged fighter, yet worried that there was no response from James just as it slammed into the ground near the Breen Outpost.

As the fighter finally came to a halt, her body ached and complained as she tried to move to undo her harness. Brooklyn opened the cockpit and turned to look at her Weapons Officer. Color drained from her face as she saw a jagged piece of metal sticking out of his neck.

****

"James!" Brooklyn screamed as she bolted up in her bed--she was drenched in sweat as she fought to calm herself from shaking. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she got up and entered the lavatory, taking deep breaths.

She leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face and looked at herself in mirror. She hated that she still had these night terrors, wondering if they would ever go away. She at times wondered if it was time for her to turn in her wings and retire from Starfleet. Maybe live a peaceful life somewhere like Risa or some out of the way colony as far away from conflicts and people in general. She looked down at the sink, away from the woman looking back at her from the mirror, removing her tank top, shorts and underwear as she stepped into the shower.

The warm water cascading down on her helped to relax as it washed the sweat away. It wasn't that she had moved on from James but rather the time she spent as a prisoner of the Breen. When finally released at the end of the war six months later, she thought about how she had wanted to end her life--it was some of her darkest times. She leaned forward under the shower head, putting her hand on the shower wall to support herself as she thought about her circumstances and what to do.

She had learned that she had had a lot in common with Commander Graves--something she hadn't expected. A part of her wanted to talk to him about these night terrors yet the other part wanted to keep quiet. 'He would never understand,' she concluded as she let out a sigh before turning the water off and made her way to her closet to get some fresh clothes.

 

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