A Mission Post by Lieutenant Commander Jin Rha-Yaleii
Mission: Coil of Darkness
Location: Earth, London
Timeline: Current
[London]
She discarded the borrowed hoverbike without a second glance, pushing through the crowd towards the column of acrid smoke. Fine dust and ash swirled in the air, covering faces and clothes as people milled about in confusion, some trying to get away, others staring blankly at the mayhem that had overturned their world in the blink of an eye.
A few uniforms, as dust-caked as everything else, caught the Efrosian's eye but they were swallowed by the throng.
Another attempt to get her commbadge to work only produced more grating static. She won free of the crowd and stepped into a scene right suited to the Efrosian concept of Fourth Hell.
Grey. Grey debris, grey people, grey and sickly yellowish powdery dust covering bodies, mixing with runnels of red, green, blue… the stench was too damn familiar. Reflexively raising an arm to cover her nose, Jin wished she could cover her ears as well to drown out the moans of the injured and dying, the soft whimpers floating over the stunned, heavy silence like the wails of the damned.
A metallic glint to her left drew the small Efrosian like a beacon, bright sunlight reflecting off an overturned shuttle while the blue sky arched over the desolation as if in mockery.
There. Human. Breathing. She dropped to her knees, feeling for the woman's pulse, and was rewarded with a hearty cough.
"Ensign? Can you move?"
Soulful almond-shaped brown eyes focused on the little pilot, and she let out a breath. The woman's eyes were clear, her motions sluggish but smooth. "Da. I am … what happened?"
"I don't know." Jin's voice was calm, too calm, echoing with the darkness of one too many hells.
Somewhere behind them the hum of transporters announced the arrival of emergency responders, and Jin's head snapped around, ready to call for a medic when the blonde Ensign scrambled to her feet. "It is only my ears. What do we do?"
The pilot looked across the flattened, scorched landscape strewn with debris and gruesome remnants of once living beings.
"What we can, Ensign."
====
"Raz, dvah, tree!" Jekaterina nodded at the small Efrosian to lift the beam and tugged on the unconscious Romulan's uniform. Slowly the man slid out from under the rubble, leaving an emerald streak in the dirt "We did not hurt him more, did we?"
"They're pretty tough, Ensign. And a bit of jostling is likely better than leaving that thing on his chest."
"Da. Likely. You know Romulans?"
"I've patched one up before, once or twice."
When the Commander didn't elaborate but rather examined the man's injuries again, muttering somewhat melodious under her breath that probably wasn't as nice as it sounded, Jekaterina sat down to rub the all permeating grime from her eyes. "Where are the transporters? Why do they not beam people out?"
"I'm guessing interference from the blast. Can't transport what you can't lock on to. Ah, kroiha-u yhfewri you idiot. You've lost enough blood already." The Efrosian swatted away a hand that apparently had tried to go for her throat – from unconscious to wanting to kill your rescuers in no time at all, go figure. Still, Jekaterina was impressed. Almost as much as she was by the rapid Romulan the tiny Commander was unleashing on the frowning male while she was stemming the bleeding and ripping up the dark uniform for makeshift bandages.
"Alright. Better. Let's get him to the shuttle."
"He is tall. You think we can carry him, Jin Maitlinovna?"
"This one's Rei'Krannsu. If we want to carry him, we'll have to hit him over the head first. Ssiun genmibh theah, di'praevusa."
Jekaterina wished her translator were working, because whatever the guy answered in a decidedly deadpan tone prompted an actual brief, husky laugh from the Efrosian.
===
"Whoa there! She's a Betazoid, not a rag doll. A bit more gently if you please!" the harried doctor shot his impromptu Sulamid nurse an aggravated look and saw the two Starfleet women return with another patient. He motioned at them to place the youngster on one of the last few empty spots in the shuttle, medical tricorder already whirring as he switched over to Andorian physiology. "We should depart soon, Commander. The Phlox Hospital is a good four minutes by shuttle and the transporters are still intermittent at best." Not that he'd risk using the transporter with half of the injured in the shuttle in any case if he had a choice. Which, fortunately, he had.
The short Efrosian pilot merely nodded and straightened. And then her face changed from the almost preternatural calm she had displayed throughout, to a commingling of shock, sorrow, joy and a thousand other things flickering across her lovely features, and with a strangled sound she bolted down the shuttle's ramp to meet the man in marine uniform carrying a bleeding Trill towards them.
Rafi.
She hadn't allowed herself to think about him, to wonder where in this hell of shattered bodies and acrid dust he might be, or if he was even still alive. And if her heart had twisted painfully every time she caught a glimpse of lion tawny hair or beautiful spots on bloodied, twisted limbs she had forcefully pushed the feelings back into the river churning beneath the surface.
She hadn't permitted herself to be distracted from what was needful – find help to tend to the injured, locate a doctor, a nurse; people to turn the shuttle back up and get everyone on board who couldn't be transported.
But even if the river roars under a sheet of ice, the sound still travels across the snowy hills.
Rafi.
His finely tailored suit scorched and tattered, the burnished dark gold of his hair matted with blood and dirt, his face covered in soot, she'd still have known him anywhere.
Not moving.
Muttering curses like prayers, Jin guided the staggering marine to the shuttle and helped him to carefully set down his burden.
"Don't you die on me, you hear? I'll haunt your spirit across the stars and into whatever place Trills go to strangle your Gods."
"Commander, I need to…"
Without ever taking her eyes off his face, without even noticing she had taken off her jacket, Jin bundled the fabric to tenderly place it under the Trill's head and moved slightly aside to make room for the doctor. She didn't ask 'how bad?', because it was painfully obvious. She only traced Rafi's features with soothing fingertips, her voice the soft song of a spring breeze and murmuring brooks as she recited his favorite stories, willing him to hear, to find his way back.
"Commander?"
The doctor's voice seemed to come from far away, intruding into the oh so brief moment she had let herself drown. But it jarred her to her senses all the same.
Stares. Some bewildered, some compassionate, some awed at the rare spectacle of an Efrosian singing a haunting, ethereal tune in her native language.
She glanced up and saw the Andorian's antennae quiver, the Betazoid's pain-filled black eyes, and breathed a feather-light kiss on Rafi's lips.
"Yes. Please secure for departure, doctor."
She would not fly the Yalhis. Not today.
===
Four minutes can easily be reduced to two and a bit with an experienced, fiercely determined pilot at the helm. One and a bit when the area is clear of all but emergency traffic. Battered and straining, the shuttle flew over the city like a silver arrow, throttling down only when it had reached the hospital's landing pad. As lightly as a falling leaf it turned and floated down, doctors and nurses rushing towards the lowering ramp even before the struts touched the ground.
"Promise me you'll at least think about it, Jin?"
"One thousand three hundred twelve, three hundred thirteen,…"
"Commander? Commander Rha-Yaleii?"
"Yes, doctor?" Jin didn't even bother to turn around, too focused on keeping the poor shuttle from coughing itself apart after the mad flight. From the sounds behind here there were two, … no, one last patient being carefully moved onto an anti-grav lift. Time to go.
"There are several medical personnel who could use a lift to-"
"Tell them to strap in."
"Yes, Commander. Commander? I'll … I'll keep you informed."
"Thank you, doctor."
"Jin?"
"… seventy eight, nine ..."
"That tickles."
I promise.
~End Log ~
LtCmdr Jin Rha-Yaleii
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Yalhis – Ship of Efrosian legend, carrying slain warriors to the afterlife not unlike Valkyries in Earth's Nordic culture. Polar lights are said to be marking the ship's passage.
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