Second Officer's Log 5003081.0

[Cmdr JFarrington 0]

Second Officer's Log, Stardate 5003081.0

Cmdr Jami Farrington, MD

USS Manticore NCC 5852

 

As soon as the order to defend the bridge was given, Jami's mind switched modes.  Now was the time for training to take over, for standing orders and defensive patterns to take effect.  

 

Because they were in Romulan space, Jami had put an extra touch on their defense plan.  One of her science officers, Lt Dal t'Lev, was a Vulcan-Romulan, an unusual mix to say the least. An outcast for both Romulans and Vulcans, he had chosen Starfleet as his home.  He had proven himself to be one of the most valuable scientists in Starfleet and could be trusted implicitly.  What's more, his knowledge of the Romulan language and his ability to blend in to the culture could be invaluable in this situation.  Dal was the perfect choice for the PCD Rescue Squad.  When Jami gave the word, he would disappear.

 

With Atragon and his telekinesis at the fore to slow the invasion of the bridge, Jami took aim at the first few that made it past him, knowing that if she were hit, she would die.  Romulan disruptors have two settings: kill and disintegrate.  Not long into the fray, however, Jami took a hit to the shoulder, then one to the chest, amazed that the Romulan's weapon had not killed her. For some reason there was a heavy stun setting, meant to maim.  

 

Retreating to Dal's position behind a science console, Jami shouted, "Go!  Now!"  She turned to take aim again, but Sovak was down, so she moved to cover him.  Another shot grazed the base of her skull, sending a searing pain down her back.  A glance behind her told her that Dal had taken the rear turbolift, but had paused to take a good look at the Romulan who was making a swift advance.  In a heartbeat, the Romulan was on her, forcing her torso forward and her leg back.  She heard a sharp crack. . .  

 

Some time later Jami awoke, cold and weak, struggling to hear any sound -- movement, voices, engines -- anything that would let her know where she was.  But her brain was fogged and her eyesight dim.  Someone called her name, someone familiar.  Answer.  Answer.  Nothing came.

 

Then . . . a hand, an arm, hoisting her up, and an instant consciousness clashed with excruciating pain.  She remembered crying out, then silence.

 

Jami awoke in what could only have been a medical facility, with smell of electronics and medications, and the varied hums of sterile fields and medical equipment.  She knew those sounds and smells all too well.  The pain had subsided, and she had plasma bandages affixed to her body. She wanted to talk, to ask where she was, see who was with her.  Nothing came.  Still, she could hear.

 

She could hear.  She could breathe.  She was alive.

 

"Ah, Commander.  You are awake."

 

Jami turned towards the voice, but something blocked her vision . . .

 

"I am Doctor Aerv.  Please . . ." he touched her shoulder, "do not be alarmed.  Your eyes are bandaged for . . . security reasons.  The medication I have given you will not only ease the pain of your injuries, but may cloud your mind for a time and make it difficult to talk."  Here he paused, as though listening to something or someone.  Someone speaking Romulan with a strange accent.

 

Jami thought she could hear breathing and someone whispering, then the doctor's whispered reply.  She inhaled deeply.  There was one smell that did not match a sickbay.  Some kind of incense?  A cologne?  She made a conscientious effort to remember that smell for later, though she couldn't quite figure out why.  Yes, her brain was clouded, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

 

When she awoke she was back on the cold she had felt before, and not as comfortable as she had been in the medical facility.  She opened her eyes and the blindfold had been removed.  Cargo bay.  Manticore crew.  Guards.  Someone asking how she felt.  She nodded a yes to that, then shook her head no, instantly wishing she had not moved her head from side to side.  Sit still.  Rest.  There will be a time for action, but for now . . . rest.