Broken

Posted on Thu 28th Jun, 2018 @ 10:58pm by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington
Edited on on Fri 29th Jun, 2018 @ 12:33am

1,327 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Brushfires
Location: Outer Space
Timeline: After the events of "Shark Hunting"

The Danube Class SAR runabout USS Angel was en route to Colonel Wellington's last coordinates. The runabout had been extensively equipped with an upgraded sensor and medical suites. Escorting the runabout were six Valkyrie Class fighters. The pilots were tired from the increased CAPs that Wellington had ordered but at the moment, that didn't matter--they were all worried about their CAG after her bout with the Orion fighter that had killed eight of their friends and colleges.

"Do you think she's..." a young Bajoran 2nd Lieutenant spoke from the co-pilot's seat aboard the USS Angel.

"Don't you even think that!" snapped Captain P'alea, pointing her finger at the younger man from her position at the pilot's seat. She turned her attention back to her controls. "No one can kill the CAG," she commented more softly. It was more of an attempt to convince herself that the Colonel was still alive.

Chief Petty Officer Cortez, a corpsman, spoke up from the medical suite. "The Colonel is a tough woman. I'm sure she's out there."

"Let's us...hope so," replied Ensign T'Ral, in her usual stoic voice from her position across from CPO Cortez. T'Ral served as a nurse aboard Starbase Vanguard as was attached to the Marines.

"I've got something!" Captain P'alea called out as she brought the Angel to a full stop. Several meters directly in front of them was a limp body wearing a Starfleet Marine Pilot uniform floating through space. "It's the CAG! Run a scan!" she ordered her co-pilot.

"Running scan..." the Bajoran woman responded. "Prophets...she's alive! But she's in horrible condition..."

Ensign T'Ral instantly moved to her medical terminal to observe the sensor scans. It was indeed as humans referenced, a miracle that she was alive. The scans showed massive trauma throughout Wellington's body, several broken and shattered bones, and what seemed to be a nasty head trauma...and her suit was was damaged, leaking precious air. Time was of the essence if they were going to save the CAG. They needed to get her to the infirmary immediately. "She is too badly injured to transport aboard. She would not survive the trip back to the station. Our only option is to relay transport her to the infirmary aboard the starbase."

"Alright, do it," Captain P'alea replied as she backed the runabout off to maximum transporter distance from Wellington. "Just hang in there, colonel," she muttered under her breath. "We're at max transporter range."

Ensigh T'Ral opened a channel to the infirmary. "Ensign T'Ral to Vanguard Infirmary, prepare for incoming critical. Patient has massive trauma. Sending sensor report now," she said as she sent a copy of the report to the infirmary so the department could prepare and know what to expect.

"Acknowedged, Ensign T'Pral. We are ready to receive the patient," came a voice.

"Beginning transport," T'Ral said as she activated the transporter controls.


****

The little girl with black hair pulled back into a pony tail near age 7, sat on the edge of a pier on a lake in a recreation hub with her bare feet, teasing the surface of the water that was cool to the touch. She held the fishing rod, not really waiting for a bit but rather on her annoying parents.

"Brooklyn, you'll never catch anything with your toes in the water. You're scaring the fish," came a elderly male voice approaching from behind her.

"I know grandpa," Brooklyn said with a shrug.

The elderly man sat down beside her slowly. "I take it you're still mad at your father," he said with conviction.

"Why does he have to be such a butt head? I don't like those boring parties! They're so...boring!" Brooklyn replied.

Her grandpa chuckled. "Yes they are. But they're also important to your father."

"What about me! Nobody even asks what I want! What I think is important!" Brooklyn whined.

***

"She's hemorrhaging internally! Get her prepped for surgery, stat!" ordered the doctor as nurses rushed about to bring the necessary tools. "And prep the cortical stabilizers in case we need them. Anders, grab some Pulmonary support units and hook them up to her!" He glanced at her right arm that was badly damaged. He would have to check the scans to see the full extension of the damage but from his experience she may likely lose it if she didn't lose her life. "Don't you quit on me," he muttered as he began the surgery.

***

"What do you want?" Brooklyn asked in annoyance, crossing her arms as she slouched against the wall of her high school.

"Hey," the young blonde man, sporting a sports jacket held up his hands. "I just wanted to ask if you had a date for the Homecoming."

Wellington grinned. Her father hated Brian--calling him a brainless jock. Which anything that irritated her father, she was all for it. She shrugged. "Perhaps...perhaps not. Hmmm, tell you what. Win tonight's game and we have a date."

Brian walked closer, grinning. "Oh, I definitely plan to win."

***

"Shit! She's going into cardiac arrest! Get the cardiostimulator!" the doctor ordered as he continued to repair the blood vessels in her body with a vascular regenerator. He wished that Doctor Addams was available but at the moment, this was his patient.

***

"Wellington! What the hell is your major malfunction!" the female Andorian Marine Drill Instructor screamed at her. "Get your ass through my obstacle course! I've seen Rigellian Slugs move faster than you!"

Wellington breathed hard as her arms felt tight, sliding across the top of the rope on the slide for life portion of the confidence course. "Aye, ma'am!" At replying, she lost her balance and grip and fell into the murky pond below. Spitting out the foul water, she made her way onto dry land at the glare of her DI.

"Get back and do it again, Wellington! If you don't speed up and complete my course, I'll quarter deck you until you die!" the DI screamed at her.

"Aye, ma'am!" Wellington replied before running back to the start of the course.

***

The doctor sighed as they managed to stop the hemorrhaging and stabilize Colonel Wellington...for the moment at least. A nurse brought him the scan results of her right arm and he sighed in despair. There was too much nerve and muscle damage to the forearm and hand, though the upper arm could be saved. "I'm sorry, colonel," he resigned himself. "Bring me a laser scalpel."

***

Wellington let out a grunt as she was lifted off the floor by her arms above her head. The cold bit at bare spots of her skin where her pilot uniform had been torn during her crash. "You will tell me the code sequence for the Starfleet's defense systems in the Risa Sector!" the breen demanded, looking up at Wellington.

"Wellington. 239-55-76012," she replied.

"Very well. We will do this the hard way," the Breen said as another Breen from behind her stabbed her with a pain stick. She let out a scream at the pain that coursed through her body.

***

Wellington jolted upright on the medical bed, sweat pouring from her forehead and breathing hard.

A betazed male nurse rushed over. "Calm down, colonel. You're alright. Just lay back and relax. We almost lost you," the nurse explained.

Wellington laid back down slowly on the bed, taking in her surroundings but felt the lack of something. Looking to her right, he was shocked at not seeing her arm there. "Wh--what happened?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"I'm sorry, colonel," the doctor who had operated on her entered. "We were forced to amputate your right arm. There was simply too much nerve and muscle damage."

"Get out of here!" Wellington screamed. When the two paused, she yelled louder. "Now!" The effort caused her to go into a coughing fit. The nurse placed a glass of water next to her bed on her left side before leaving along with the doctor.

 

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