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Space was a never ending marvel for many a Starfleet officer. And Bradward Boimler wasn’t an exception. He lost track of how long he stood in that hallway on Deck 5, staring out into it. But he couldn’t help and admire the majesty of the expanse. Every constellation, nebula and even asteroid field painted their own picture of the beauty of the final frontier. Aside from rank, there was no greater accomplishment than just seeing the endless cosmos, full of new opportunities to boldly go where no one has ever before.
Even the planet of Elnanith, which the crew was tasked with making Second Contact with, was beautiful in its own way. Despite it being mostly arid desert with few patches of vegetation and water, it stood out among the vibrant colors of the nebula behind it.
“They should’ve sent a poet.” He pulled out his PADD and prepared to enter his log for the day. He could stare out into the colorful oblivion for hours, but as an officer of Starfleet he had duties to fulfill.
"Ensign's Log, Supplemental, still Stardate 58500.2. The Cerritos’ first Second Contact after what my fellow California-Class crews are beginning to refer to as the ‘Texas Tussle’ and we’re in great shape. As mentioned earlier, the Cerritos' flight path home meant that we were ordered to follow up on a First Contact on a planet we would've been passing anyway. Acrux IV, called Elnanith to the Mishuilli, the people that live here, they’re a simple people who recently achieved warp travel and are eager to make an impression to their galactic neighbors. Engaging with the locals has been going great from what I’m hearing from other crew members. They appreciate our arrival and assistance, even if they think they know more than we do about, well, anything. Still, they're happy to see us, especially after the proceeding ship, the U.S.S. Ivanov, mysteriously exploded…
Evidently a fire broke out…
...in the warp core…
Yeah sure, okay.
I’ve made my suspicions clear to Captain Freeman, the command staff, and anyone that’d listen, but I’ve been ignored... Multiple times...
Is this what it feels like to be Mariner?
Anyway, on a more positive note, the crew is expecting shore leave upon arriving on Earth, keeping morale up for this assignment. Starfleet Command is requesting a meeting in San Francisco to essentially compare notes and learn from the California-Class captains and senior staff on how to avoid this in the future. So the non-essential crew members are free to go and enjoy Earth. Mariner and several other cynical officers say it’s so Command can play off like they had nothing to do with the Texas Class and dump everything on Admiral Buenamigo. But I’m happy to see the California-classes and the work we do get some recognition around he-
Oh, hey D. How long have you been there?”
“Since ‘Texas Tussle’,” his friend D’Vana Tendi told him amiably before her expression changed to a quizzical one. “But seriously, we’re calling it that?”
“Hey, I didn’t name it," He shrugged. "Anyway, sorry I basically ignored you there.”
She shrugged back. “Hey, don’t worry about it, I wanted to let you finish your log. We’re Starfleet, we have jobs to do.” It had the added benefit of hearing him talk, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Anyway, I never got the chance to say good thinking with the warp core idea. You saved us all, you know that?”
Brad quickly rolled his eyes when she finished. “Thanks for saying that, it was nothing,” he replied with a genuinely friendly smile. “Shaxs actually had the idea and did the deed, Beckett brought back up, Sam showed everyone the Badgey code. We all worked together to stop the Texas ships in some way or another. All I did was yell at the captain. If anything, you deserve the most credit since you checked for microscopic life which threw the entire class into question."
She shook her head. "Stop it. You need to give yourself more credit. We'd be space debris if you didn't get the Captain to listen to the plan. That's what I'm getting at, B."
"Fine, but you were the one who gave me the idea to be 'bold,' take that at least. I don't think I would've had the confidence to do that if you didn't give me the kick in the teeth I needed. No bold, no shouting at the captain, no shouting, no warp core eject.” He delivered that line and gave a confident yet friendly smirk, pretending like he made some gallant chess move.
D'Vana rolled her eyes as he said that. When he finished, she shook her head again, but kept her optimistic smile this time. “Agree to disagree, B. That confidence was always there, you just gotta acknowledge it once in a while.”
Brad absentmindedly nodded, he was too focused elsewhere to argue, this log wasn't going to enter itself. Not to mention walking across this hallway was more difficult than it should’ve been, given the amount of people that were also walking through. Both Brad and D’Vana had to move around so as to not bump into people and actually get somewhere. Not helping was the lack of doors into the inner hallways of the ship. The outer hallways were great for the scenic route, not so much for getting anywhere quickly.
As D’Vana saw the opportunity, she got as close to his person as she could plausibly deny and cleared her throat. “So Braaaaadward, what brings you to this hallway anyway?”
“Well I just finished my work, so I was gonna try to reach Sam. Wanted to see how his implant was treating him now. Then I might as well get a bite, no point going to the bridge and making a stink about the Ivanov again on an empty stomach.”
“What a coincidence, so was I.”
“Really!?" His eyes lit up like the galaxy. Finally, he thought, someone shared his suspicions. "You believe me? You actually believe me, D?”
“Oh, just the first part. It's weird you’re still on about that.”
He immediately deflated, but rebounded. “I mean, I get it, warp cores can take on fire. But it seems weird that the crew would let it happen. Like, when was the last time you saw a ship just straight up catch on fire for no reason?” Her unchanging expression told him he was all alone on this, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “I guess you're right, I should let it go.”
“That’s the spirit!” D’Vana exclaimed.
“Besides, I have a show to practice for. I’m with two other guys for a mini-orchestra of sorts, Lieutenant Winger is doing a one man reenactment about the tale of Flavius Belisarius while we provide music.” Who should walk by but Winger, they high-fived as they passed each other. And Winger gives a “Thanks again buddy!” and a wave as he walks away.
“Remember! You owe me a show about Yellow Submarine eventually!”
“Joke’s on you, Boil! I was probably gonna do that anyway!” The two shared a good laugh before he turned to her, “Belisarius is near and dear to him. So part of the deal was that he’d do a one-man show of what the three of us requested. Lieutenant Commander Stevens wants him to do Fight Club, and Ensign Federov asked him to do something called ‘A Bronx Tale’ so those’ll be fun… I guess. Personally, I’m just happy to find someone that shares my love for the Beatles.”
"Oh yeah, you brought them up once or twice... I think..." She started off confidently then started trailing off in embarrassment. Brad didn't hear, his mind was focused on someone walking up to the two.
“D'Vana, Beatle.” D’Vana heard a passing Barnes say professionally and with mock disdain respectively.
“Monkee.” He returned in the same tone. The two of them separately shared a snicker. "But yeah, see? Hard to come by around here.”
D'Vana looked at him with confusion. This was the first time he had that kind of connection with another crewmate, or at least the first time she’s ever seen him acknowledge Barnes’ existence. While she had a tendency to forget that her three best friends have things going on outside of just the four of them, it was nice to see it for herself.
D’Vana shook her head, she had to focus. If she was going to ask him, now was the time. “Though I was asking if you have any plans for shore leave?” She asked with a wide grin on her face, hoping he’d turn and see it.
He didn’t.
In fact, Brad's face shifted from cordial to one of one of minor annoyance. She could tell he was a bit more perturbed than he would let on, if only because she’s known him long enough to know how he ticks. For his part, Brad can see the look of discompose on her face, though she just left it at that. He’s made enough people upset to know when they’re holding back. From an outsider's perspective, it’s two work associates that were somewhat annoyed at the color of the carpet. But to the two of them, it was a subtle message that he didn’t like that kind of messaging, and they both knew the other knew it too.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, D’Vana rubs the back of her neck. “Brad, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a sore spot for you," she said warmly, "I know I need be more respectful of your personal space and life,” she then said like she was reciting from the Starfleet Officer's Handbook about professional work relations.
He turned to look at her. “No, no, you’re alright, D. It’s just… All day I’ve been getting messages and requests from like half of Jen's salon friends and whoever has my information to go with them on whatever they got planned. Wendy wanted me to go with her to see the Shinto temples of Japan, Valencia’s been tempting me with a trip through Italy’s city states. Jet wants to do some sailing off the coast of Greece because ‘it reminds him of our home,’ so there’s that. Oh hey, you know Ensign Kearns right? From the Carlsbad?”
“Uh, a little, didn’t talk to her much,” D’Vana shrugged. She knew her mostly from the looks she gave him when she thought no one was looking.
“She just invited me to this spelunking trip in Brazil. Woo.” He wiggled his finger in totally genuine celebration. Just then his PADD beeps, indicating another message.
“Who’s that?”
Brad takes a few seconds to read the message and she noticed that his frown became slightly more neutral. "It's Beckett, she wants me to go with her for shore leave..."
“Really?" D'Vana asks with a jealous glint in her eye, Brad didn't notice. "Well what’d Mariner ask?”
“Well, Beckett had this Mt. Everest trip planned with Jen a while back, decided to follow through with it. But I guess now they were going to take some time and talk about their relationship. Good call on Beck's part, Jen would appreciate a cold environment. They both want me along to be a third party mediator. Makes sense, they both know me and given I'm presumably neutral enough to help them through their rough patch.”
“Well don’t be surprised if they ask you if you want in. Andorian unions are up to four people.”
He nodded his head in acknowledgment, ignorant to her subtext. “Yeah, that crossed my mind when they invited me. Jennifer kept calling me ‘Chan’ and I have no idea what she means. All I know is that I’m not going either way. I really want to help, but then I remember the whole ‘redshirts’ thing and I remember why I told them no.”
When it came to the former, that made sense. She didn't know what Jen and Mariner's relationship was at currently, nobody did. But she was genuinely confused on the latter, she seemed lovely. “Sh'reyan that bad?”
“Remember back when you were a scorpion monster? She and the other Redshirt guys thought speeches to the crew would bring you back to normal. Don’t get me wrong, Jen’s a nice person, but if Beckett wasn’t there I wouldn’t have a reason to talk to her. Though if I’m being honest I’d rather not deal with either of them right now. Besides, I know we're all free love and anything's kosher, but I’m more old fashioned, throuples or more ain’t my style.”
D'Vana nodded along in agreement. “Same. I’d rather have something more intimate and focused. Something with only one other.” She got closer to his person and slowly rubbed their shoulders. Just enough to make him question if she was doing it or his imagination. Between that and where the conversation was going, a smart man would’ve at least theorized what she was getting at. Bradward Boimler isn’t. He shifted his position so there was a few inches between them again. She frowned at that.
“Sorry!" He awkwardly apologized. "These hallways are getting crowded, I’ll keep a better eye out.” He said, checking around to see if there wasn’t anyone in their direct path. “Where was I? Oh yeah, so far I have where I want to go down to ‘anywhere but Modesto.’”
That seemed to confuse her. “But isn’t that your home? With the vineyard, and all those girls who kept hitting on you? Mariner told me all about it.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not going back.”
The knowledge of a lack of competition painted a smile on her face. He didn’t have anyone special at home, and he didn’t want to be in a threesome with Mariner and Jen. She liked her odds. Though being reminded of home rubbed her the wrong way…
“Wish I had your problems.” She sighed. “Not like I can go to Orion for anything. It’d either be hostilities from friends and family or setting me up with someone from a rival syndicate.” She sighed, “I hated my ex-fiancée. He was a piece of work. Treated seeing so much as a mean look as justification for a fight.”
“I’m sorry D. Family does get under our ski-“ He needed a second for his brain to process what she just said, he turned his head to her. “Wait, you had an arranged marriage?”
She nodded. “Yep! Remember, I had a life before you guys.”
“Oh yeah, sorry. It just slips our minds. Sorry about that.” He awkwardly chucked before going back to his PADD.
She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it, none of you guys knew. And honestly, I’d rather forget too. Hey, why don’t you talk about the girls at home! Anything you wanted to get off your chest? I’m here.”
“Well for one, they wouldn’t like you all that much.”
“Wait what, why?”
“They hate it when I bring up my time here at Starfleet.” He answered with a deadpan tone, still focusing more on his report, “Back when we were grounded, I couldn’t talk to anyone about it without an ‘I told you so’ or a ‘What’d you expect?’ or ‘You’re a Boimler, you’re wasting your talent not making raisins.’ or ‘Oh how terrible, you should lay your head on my lap and tell me all about it.’” He mimicked several women’s voices in a goofy manner, which made her giggle a little. “Hell, I didn’t tell them that time we were at The Farm because I’d never hear the end of it. So seeing someone from Starfleet would rub them the wrong way. Sorry.”
He finished typing out his report, logged it, and closed the program. Tendi caught a glimpse of his wallpaper, a group photo the four of them plus Jen took on a camping trip. Right before the Federation News Network did their exposé on the crew. They looked so happy, eyes full of hope for their friendship, and wherever the future would take them.
He turned off his PADD, and he turned his head to her, giving her his full attention. She loved looking at his pretty face, the sound of his voice was music to her ears, fantasized about being held in those arms. If she spent hours in this hallway with him, she wouldn’t complain.
“Hey, wasn’t there someone else with you? I think her name was T'Lyn, right?”
“You are correct! She insisted on getting familiar with the shield systems. So that’ll take a while…” She sighed. “Man, I thought it would be more banter and bonding, like Kirk and Spock, you know? But she’s so… so…”
“Logical?” He asked with a smirk.
“Hey!” They both had a laugh. She loosened her shoulders before speaking again. “But yeah, with no Sam or T’Lyn, it's just me for the time being.”
“Really? I’m surprised you didn’t go with him. Heard he and Billups were gonna meet up with some of his engineering buddies to take a better look at his implants.”
She sighed. “Yeah, Sam… ‘requested’ I not be there," she said in air quotes. "Considering the last time it short circuited, I chased him around the ship.”
“Yeah, that was funny though," he gave a small chuckle. "But yeah, sorry I haven’t put much thought into where I’m going yet. I know that makes me a bad conversationalist by having nothing to talk about.” He laughed it off, but she knew his tells enough to know something was up.
She decided to play along. Giving a friendly chuckle to match and elbowing his shoulder. “Oh, not meticulously planning your next ten moves? Now who’s sounding like Mariner.”
D’Vana knew this was going to work, just hit the ‘Mariner button’ for the best results...
And she was right, Brad cracked like an egg. He stopped moving, pressed his PADD to his forehead while giving a frustrated sigh, and proceeded to make his way over to a window and lean on it. She followed him, it was obvious he wanted the two of them out of everyone’s way.
He got into a loud whisper. Audible enough for the two of them to hear, but would be drowned out by everyone else’s conversations, “Alright, you got me. I do have a plan for shore leave. Will you promise not to tell anyone if I tell you?”
“Pinky promise!” She held out her hand and stuck out her pinky, her face partly gleaming with her trademark joy. He taught her that during her first week on the Cerritos and she thought it was the cutest thing ever.
He locked his pinky with her’s before continuing. “You know my teleporter clone? William?”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“Well... His abrupt death got me thinking…”
“You shouldn’t,” She looked him dead in the eyes to emphasize how seriously she took this. “I don’t want you getting another heat stroke again.”
“No no, not existentially. I realized I never did the things I told myself I’d do. So I made plans to go see this holosuite experience of the lives of The Beatles down in this town called Liverpool.” He sighed longingly at the thought. “Get to see my favorite band and screw over Will. What’s not to love?”
“The part where you’re doing it to show up a dead version of yourself!”
Brad rolled his eyes. “D, it’s not-"
“Brad, I’m serious. You shouldn’t think like that. That hostility will eat you up if you’re not careful.”
He scoffed. “D'Vana, trust me. There’s nothing to eat me up. I’ll be fine.” She didn’t buy it for a second.
She may not have cybernetic implants like her friend Sam Rutherford or even the world weariness of her colleague Mariner; but she can read people, and could tell when a friend needed her. Especially Brad, who had a tendency to do something stupid when left unchecked, even before he started this 'Bold Boimler' kick. Last time she left him alone was during his Crisis Point holodeck program, he got heat stroke with Mariner and kept thinking the meaning of life was inside a rock pile, all because his teleported clone died. And here he was saying that it wasn’t affecting him, that she shouldn't bother? She couldn’t stand it.
“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t see this as some victory lap over William.”
“That’s fine. You don-”
“I wasn’t asking.” She crossed her arms and gave a steely look.
“No!”
She just shook her head, done with her usual amicability. “Brad, I’ve seen this before. You think it’ll be nothing, but you’ll keep coming back to it again and again. Until all you have is a chip on your shoulder and nowhere to go,” She tenderly put her hand on his shoulder. “Please, you deserve to be happy with your friends, not to have your past weigh you down.”
One thing she didn't appreciate about talking with Brad was his tunnel vision. He would be so dead set focused on something while ignoring everything else around him. The kind of person that would ignore third degree burns just to meet a guy to sign a plate. Made for a solid ensign that got results. But if he was serious about moving up the ranks, she knew he would have to change his mindset if he wanted anything above Junior Lieutenant, and that’s if he was lucky.
And she really was worried about him. Whether he was assimilated into a fake Borg collective or almost drowning in Cetacean Ops. It seemed like one day, Brad was going to land on something as stubborn as he was. And she didn’t know how she would handle that.
He took a deep contemplative breath. “Just so I heard you properly earlier. You don’t have any plans?”
She cheerfully shook her head, knowing where he was going with this. “Nope!”
"And... there's nobody else you wanted to go with on anything?"
"Still nope!"
"And you're sure you want to come with me?"
She just gave a cute nod and a tiny "Um-hm"
“Me?”
“Yep!”
“You serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well... alright. If you really want to, I guess you can come. I’m sure the reserva-” He didn't finish, because halfway through she had the biggest grin he ever saw on her face before getting embraced in the tightest hug he’d ever seen her give someone else.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”
“Uh Ten-Tend-Tendi, per-personal space.” He struggled to form words as most of his brain and remaining cells of oxygen in his system went to prying her off with his free hand, but couldn’t budge from her vice-like grip. D'Vana ignored his protests and his increasingly tensing body. She just hugged him tighter and sighed happily.
It was at this point, their fellow crewmates in the hallway started taking notice. One or two chuckled at the sight. Ensign Volis flashed the two a brief envious look. Ensign Karavitus gave a little “aww” at the sight of the two. Ensign Moxy gave Brad an up nod and a friendly smirk, basically saying “Nice girlfriend. Knew you two were together!” He wanted to say something but she was already gone by the time he processed what she was getting at.
Little did Brad know that Moxy was closer than he thought. D’Vana did have a crush on him for a while now. She didn’t know if it was the performatively extroverted yet scheming culture of the Orions ingrained in her psyche or her desire not to hurt their friendship holding her back, but she knew that actually sharing those feelings wasn’t something she could undo. So she kept it down, and will probably have to keep it down for as long as they know each other. Honestly, she wished he’d make the first move so the whole thing would be easier.
Maybe she should walk around him wearing only a towel more often…
It was only after a minute did she realize what she was doing. She let go and awkwardly scratched the back of her head, not noticing him struggling to regain his breath. “Heh heh, sorry buddy.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He dismissed, albeit a bit too quickly for D'Vana not to think something, but he kept going. “I don't know about you, but I’m honestly too distracted by how well everything’s going! Beckett’s back in Starfleet, Sam’s head is screwed on straight, the California-class is getting its recognition. And if we’re lucky, we’ll get this registered as a First Contact!" He sighed happily, "Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this son of York.”
“Huh?” Was all D'Vana could muster.
“Oh, sorry. It's the opening line to a play called Richard III, written by a man named William Shakespeare. Basically, what I just said was ‘The worst is behind us, better times ahead.’”
“Ah okay. Look, I’m sorry because I swear I’ve said this like a hundred times, but Human art seems so much more… more… well, artistic. We don’t have this much going on in Orion works. It’s all so tropey and, dare I say, trashy by comparison.”
Brad Boimler, a Starfleet officer, and thus open minded of other peoples, wouldn’t let that slide on the clock. “Nope, nuh uh, no. You can’t hold Andy Sidaris as one of your examples of ‘fine Earth art’ and complain about how ‘trashy’ you think Orion culture is.” Getting it across in an interpersonal way was just a bonus.
She shook her head. “Okay, Die Hard. One, it’s my culture so I can do whatever I want. And two, the women do more than just stand around in skimpy outfits. They get the final kills and drive the plot!” Her enthusiasm about it, plus his limited knowledge on Orion art convinced him to drop it.
In actuality, he agreed with her about Orion works. From what little he could get his hands on and talk with her about, they make John Norman look like Jane Austen. But he was still on shift, so he was still required to annoy his friend with protocol concerning cultural open-mindedness. She didn’t have to insult one of his favorite movies though.
But once he realized he was as far as he was going to get with that, he conceded. “Alright, you’re correct on that. Plus I’m worried if I push it, I’m gonna lose the other Miami Connection fan on this ship that also isn’t Beckett.”
“What’s wrong with Mariner?”
“Nothing, but every time all of us watch it, she insists on getting drunk and challenging me to a 'karate' fight. I mean, at least Sam calls it Tae Kwon Do like you’re supposed to.”
“You know she just likes grappling you, right?”
“I mean, I guess. But why though?” He looked at her with genuine confusion.
D'Vana rolled her eyes, she couldn’t believe he was that dense. Fortunately for her he didn’t see it, he seemed to be staring out the window, “Well B, maybe I could help you with some training. I’m sure I have a move or two that she won’t see coming.”
“Probably, I don’t know…” Brad was listening, though not devoting a lot of his brain to it.
“Come on, Orions have their own martial arts. You’re gonna love Ark-Tai!” She started wiggling her eyebrow, “Besides, bold people need to have some hand-to-hand training.”
“I guess you’re right. Well if you want, I could schedule some time on the holodeck for… for… hey, has that ship always been there?”
“What ship?”
“That one.” He pointed out directly ahead of him. Soon everyone else in the hallway caught what was going on and saw it too.
Everyone on deck 5 came face to face with a Bird-of-Prey that just finished decloaking...
...and its cannons aimed directly at the hull of the ship.
There was a dreadful silence for only one second, but it felt like eternity. Then the only thing they heard was this deafening order…
“ALL HANDS BATTLESTATIONS!”
The rising shields of the Cerritos were shattered in seconds. The full armament of the Bird-of-Prey reigned down on the simple support ship. With the fight in its favor, the ship’s engines fired up and took flight! The Cerritos’ weaponry tried to damage it, but the maneuverability of its opponent ensured its dominance over the struggle.
Without any real idea where to go but forward. The two sprinted like crazy towards anywhere that wouldn’t likely be a target. Fortunately and unfortunately, they weren’t the only ones with that idea.
Brad and D’Vana tripped, but got past an energy barrier just before it materialized after a direct torpedo hit. Lieutenant Bingston wasn’t as lucky, he was banging on the barrier in the hopes that one of the two could save him. He was on what was left of the interior for only a microsecond, but it was enough to see the life escape his body in the callous vacuum. Luckily for him, his screaming meant he already exhaled, so his lungs wouldn't have to work as hard to collapse. His brain had just enough time to have the synapses fire off one last message of pain and fear to the amygdala before all activity ceased all together. The blood in his veins simultaneously boiling and freezing as he and the other unfortunate souls drift off into the final frontier.
D’Vana couldn’t watch, Brad couldn’t look away.
“D, you alright? D, we gotta go!” He helped her up.
“Ye… yeah…” She struggled to collect her bearings. “I just need a minu-” Another explosion rocked the ship. “Got a minute, let’s go.”
The end of the hall was the closest thing the two had to salvation in their situation. It was still in the mercy of the bird's armament, but it did lead to rest of the ship which wasn’t. The two separately weighed their options do they take their chances with a section of the hall. Between them and a way out was an injured ensign. They were lucky to identify the guy without dying on the way there. It was Ensign Sherwyns, both of them remember him as “racquetball guy.”
“Hold on! I’m gonna try to get him up!” D’Vana ordered, Brad nodded. But it was easier said than done, he was too heavy for either of them to pick up, plus his injuries were too severe to move him around anyway. If she wanted to save this guy, she would have to do something now. She pulled out a dermal regenerator and started tending to the immediate wounds.
“Give me a second, I’m going to try to get him good enough to drag him to this door here!” She ordered again, but Brad wasn’t focusing on that. Rather the cogs in his head were turning. The sounds of disruptor blasts and explosions rocked the ship all around them, and it was getting closer.
A torpedo fired, and it looked like it was going to hit their deck! He ran it through his head, the blast could tear the hull and suck them out into space, if they were lucky. Seeing the panel between the three of them, Brad did the one thing he could do. Without thinking, he pressed the control panel on the wall. The energy barrier popped up between them though only he noticed. Whatever happened, at least the others would be safe.
The torpedo hit the ship's deck. Brad could hear it from behind him, just as he thought would happen. Fortunately it wasn’t a brechable blast, but it propelled him forward… less than a foot, head first into the barrier. His badge fell onto the floor during the movement. There was a KRACK upon impact, causing D'vana to turn her head. She saw her friend, with blunt force trauma on his now bleeding forehead.
“You guy’s alright?” Brad struggled to get back up, but when he saw that their clothes weren’t even scuffed by the blast raised his spirits! “Ha ha! Yeah!” He cheered, caring more about his friend being safe than anything else. Even the fact he was on the side where a fire was spreading and it was hard to stand for some reason.
D'Vana on the other hand, had a different take on this. “Brad, you’re bleeding!”
He waved it off, hoping an air of confidence would mask his difficulties. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just uh… I just need a minute…” But between the wound, bleeding, and the tension, he looked like a psychopath in the third act of a horror movie.
“No you’re not. You’re hurt!” Check your forehead!” She pointed to where it would be on her end to help him out. “You need medical attention! Turn off the barrier and I'll help you!” She pleaded.
He felt around that spot with a finger, he found blood and a hole. “Huh, funny, I don’t uh... I don't feel anything right now...”
She was going to argue with him about it more when they faintly heard Beckett Mariner’s voice. “Mariner to Boimler! I hate to admit it, but you were right! I got readings of three guys in the warp core right now! Looking to set it on fire for some reason!”
He slapped his chest, everyone ignorant to the fact his badge wasn’t there anymore. “I hear you Mariner, I think I can get there from where I am!”
“Brad. What are you doing?” She demanded.
“Gonna go help save the ship, from the sound of it.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed!” She shouted.
“Yeah, probably.” He dismissed, like he’s made his peace with the whole thing. “You got that... uh... door... door right there next to you, that’ll take you to Medical… I think. Kinda… kinda hard to think straight right now… I need a minute... But I’m gonna take this... this uh... hallway to the Warp Core. It’ll uh, it’ll all work ou-” he coughed up blood all over the barrier
“Brad! You’re gonna die in a minute!” She kept screaming to make sure he could hear him for sure. She didn’t trust his brain to understand colors let alone verbal communication at this point.
His behavior didn’t help either. Instead of responding, he just leaned on the barrier, bleeding on it as he did, “You gotta get... get outta here, take that door and go to the uh... Medbay and I’llllllllllllll... take this hallway to the Warp Core. You gotta go, save lives. I’ll be fine. Besides, this… this is pretty bold.”
“Brad, all I did was give you advice to be more open to people. I wanted you to stop complaining and get out of your shell! Not fucking kill yourself!” She pounded on the barrier, thinking that it would budge. “Please, let someone else be the hero. Be with me…” Tears started forming in her eyes…
He shook his head, “D, I can’t and you... you know it. You said it yourself, we’re Starfleet, we got a job to do. Needs of... the uh... the many and all that.” He tried his hand at a confident smirk, but given the situation and his injuries he didn’t come off as assured as he thought he hoped.
“Brad, what about the needs of your friends?” She pressed her hand on the barrier, hoping he would do the same on his end.
He did.
“D’Vana listen, you gotta... you gotta understand that this is our... what's the word... duty. We can't just abandon it when it's inconvenient." The look on her face didn't change. "Listen, when all this is said and done, I’ll take you to Bozeman, I’ll take you to Liverpool, I’ll take you anywhere you want! I’ll even take you to Modesto! Just please, don't fight me on this. We gotta save the ship!”
She smiled at the prospect of seeing his home, she tried to hide it or hope the tears down her cheeks were more noticeable, but that did make her feel better. You find your rays of sunshine where you get them.
“Oh ooooh, there's a uh, smile! Here,” He held out his pinky, “Pinky Promise?” D’Vana held hers out to meet his. They pressed their pinkies on their side of the energy barrier, “I mean, it’ll have to do, but now you know I’ll come ba-”
RRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP
The sounds of the ship tearing itself apart cut this heart to heart short.
Brad ran into the burning halls of the Cerritos. A keen ear could hear him shouting “Okay, yeah, a pinky promise is awkward but hold me up to it when this is ov-” before the fires and more torpedoes engulfed the hallway.
D'vana tried everything she could to disable the energy barrier. She kept punching it, overriding the controls with her PADD, she even tried hotwiring some wires from an exposed panel on her end. It was all for naught. She couldn’t take it down, she couldn’t stop him…
It was only from the groans of pain from an injured Ensign Sherwyns did she give up on it and go back to her duty. She tended to him while checking back at the barrier every few seconds, hoping it would go down on its own. It was on her last check that she noticed a glint, it was a combadge on the floor.
“Wait, whose badge is that?”