Part 9 (1/2)

But Darryl Adin was not a man to accept death without a fight. Over and over Dare had drilled into the trainees, ”Learn to be survivors. Your job is to protect other people-how much protection is a dead security guard?”

Yar was sitting by his bed when he finally came to-and despite the warnings of Dr. Trent that he needed rest he soon had out of them the condition in which the Orions had left the Starbound.

”Who's in command?” he demanded at once.

”I suppose you are,” Dr. Trent told him.

”But who has the con?”

”n.o.body, really,” said Yar. ”Karin Orlov and Brian Hayakawa are on the bridge trying to rig some sort of radio transmitter, but without subs.p.a.ce the chance of a signal reaching another s.h.i.+p before-”

”Any chance is better than none!” Dare said. ”Who else is taking action?”

”Uh ... what else is there-?”

Dare sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch.

”You're in no condition to get up!” protested Dr. Trent as Dare winced sharply.

Dare opened his eyes and pinned the medic with his dark gaze. ”If I don't, who will? You're needed here, and the trainees don't have the experience. Who survived from Engineering?”

”T'Irnya, Zkun, Donal, and Bosinney, but-”

”Where's Bosinney?”

”Mr. Adin,” said Dr. Trent, ”Ensign Bosinney is injured. He won't be able to work on the engines, if that's what you have in mind.”

”Why not? Is he unconscious?”

”No, but I had to tranquilize him. When the Orions broke into Engineering and the crew ran out of phaser power, they used their tools as weapons. Bosinney had a welder, one of the Orions tried to shoot it out of his hand-and destroyed Bosinney's right hand.”

”Oh, G.o.d,” Dare said, looking down at his own hands in his lap for a moment. But then he lifted his head. ”If he can't do the work-he can still direct it. There's nothing wrong with his brain, I take it?”

”He is in severe shock,” Trent said angrily.

”Well the best thing to bring him out of it,” said Dare, ”is getting back to work. Can he move about?”

”Mr. Adin!” the doctor objected.

Dare stood, wobbly but determined. ”If there is a chance in h.e.l.l of restoring impulse power, George Bosinney is the only one who can do it. I'm sorry if I insult your sensibilities, Doctor, but if we cannot restore power we'll all be dead anyway. Now let me talk to Bosinney.”

The young Engineer lay listlessly on one of the treatment couches, two round tranquilizer pads attached to his forehead. Like Dare, he was dressed in a blue sickbay coverall. Bosinney's right arm disappeared from the elbow down into a healing unit. His eyes were open, but they stared blankly at nothing.

Without waiting for the doctor's permission, Dare pulled one of the tranquilizer pads off. Bosinney blinked, and attempted to focus on him. ”Mr. Adin,” he said, somewhat thickly. ”I'm glad ... you survived, sir.”

”And we're all glad you did, son.” It was the first time Yar had ever heard him address a trainee so familiarly-except herself, of course, and that only in private. ”We need your help, George. If we can't get the impulse engines running, we're all going to die.”

”Wish I ... could help, sir. But ... my hand-”

”George,” said Dare, ”you can't think straight, tranquilized that way. If I remove the other pad, you'll have to face what has happened to you. Can you cope ... for the good of your s.h.i.+pmates?”

The unfocused stare told them nothing. But apparently it simply took Bosinney longer than usual to a.s.semble his thoughts under the effects of the tranquilizer, for just as Yar had decided he had tuned them out he said, ”For ... s.h.i.+pmates. I'll ... try, sir.”

”Good job,” said Dare, and removed the other pad.

Bosinney's eyes focused at once, and he blinked. He looked toward his right arm, and said, ”I can feel my hand. It itches.”

”That's from the healing in your arm,” said Dr. Trent. ”If you want-” He gestured toward the pads Dare had laid on the bedside table.

”No!” Bosinney's eyes turned to Dare again. ”You said we're all going to die.”

”Not if you can get the impulse engines running.”

”How can I?” Bosinney demanded, his voice squeaking in anguish. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

”It's your mind that's your strong point, Bosinney, not your hands!” Dare told him. ”I'm sure Dr. Trent has reminded you of the many members of Starfleet with prosthetic limbs. You'll have a new hand that works just as well as the original-but only if we get the Starbound to Starbase 18. It's thirty-five days from here on impulse power-and we'll have life support once the engines are working.”

”But how?”

”You're going to sit back and give the orders, son. As Acting Captain of the U.S.S. Starbound, I'm appointing you Acting Chief Engineer. You know the other trainees. Which ones are the most skilled at this kind of work?”

”I won't know till I a.s.sess the damage,” Bosinney answered.

”Very well.” Dare turned to Trent. ”How soon can he start work, Doctor?”

”Another few hours-”

”Can I do any harm that will prevent getting a prosthetic hand if I get up now?” Bosinney asked.

”You'll still have pain, itching-and the possibility of shock-”

”That wasn't what I asked,” said the boy, suddenly sounding very much a man.

The doctor gave Dare an annoyed look and replied, ”No, you can't do any more damage now, unless you fall on it.”

”Then please remove the healing unit, Doctor.”

In the next few hours, Yar watched the man she loved bring the terrified and hopeless trainees back to Starfleet levels of discipline. A new duty roster was posted and all departments were manned, if with fewer personnel than usual.

All Dare really did was to proceed according to Starfleet protocols, but ordering, threatening, cajoling, and manipulating the trainees and the reluctant medical staff into following those procedures took tremendous effort. On the first day, Orlov and Hayakawa got their distress signal working, but it could only be sent by pre-warp methods of transmission. It would be months before the signal reached Starbase 18. The only hope it offered was the chance of a s.h.i.+p pa.s.sing near enough to receive it, before the Starbound ran out of power.

Nonetheless, the news that the signal was broadcasting was the first ray of hope.

Dare followed it with the ma.s.s funeral for the crew who fell in the Orion ma.s.sacre.

That was also Starfleet regs, but Yar was horrified nonetheless when Dare a.s.sembled all off-duty personnel for the standard Starfleet service, and broadcast it throughout the s.h.i.+p for those who could not attend. When he put his mind to it, Dare could read aloud beautifully and effectively, and as for the first time the young crew heard the words of hope and consolation read over the bodies of friends fallen in the line of duty, they wept shamelessly.

The bodies were then committed to the vastness of s.p.a.ce, whose exploration was the purpose to which their lives had been dedicated. There were no Orion bodies to dispose of; the pirates had carried their own dead away with them, a surprising act among a people renowned for having no honor or loyalty.

As surprising as their leaving anyone alive aboard the Starbound.