First Lieutenant Arturo Maxwell - Green Smushy Pillow

[Kimonzi Lahl]

Well, I thought I was going to have the most dramatic end to my scene between the four members, but @Arturo Maxwell decided he was going to one up me at the last second.

Quote

((Engineering, Wreckage of U.S.S. Coleman, Phobos))

 

He had no idea why he had grabbed the shard.

It was as if he was being guided to do so by someone, or something near or around them. It was both certain knowledge and nothing more than a hunch all at once. And at the same time it was neither of those things.

A voice rang inside his head.

 

“Grab it, son! You huv tae get hame! Grab it!”

 

Maxwell: oO Da? Oo

 

He would have said it really being his Da was an impossibility, but Starfleet had taught him that the impossible was simply another probability that you hadn't encountered yet.

And so, the bizarre presence of an admittedly stale atmosphere aside he had removed his glove and picked it up.

The pain was immediate and intense, far worse than anything he had ever suffered before. Having half his face and body seared by a plasma weapon hadn't hurt this much.

As that thought came to mind, for a moment he was back in Sickbay on Ops covered in bandages and surrounded by beeping equipment. He could feel Ishani gripping his undamaged hand in a firm yet gentle grip, through one eye could see the pained concern of a dear friend that in those moments of fear was becoming something far greater. He felt a momentary ache of loss, as their relationship had grown and been all to short after she was unexpectedly transferred away.

Voices cut trhough the unbidden memory.

 

Nilsen: Max, open your hand.

 

Lahl: Let's it go!

 

He couldn't let go. His hand had become a fist around the shard, and the burning throughout his body screamed its fury through his every molecule as he began to fall into nothingness.

As blackness began to engulf his vision, another hand grabbed his.

 

Nilsen: I hope ::Argh:: I hope my idea was right. ::winching:: Max, is the pain better or worse?

 

Lahl: What are you two doing!

 

He didn't know if it was real or perceived, but in that moment came an almost blinding flash of energy and a surge of pain that for a heartbeat would have been less preferable than being vaporised.

The pain stopped, his vision cleared.

Deep purple arcs of energy continued skittering and sparking across his body, and the glow in his eyes intensified in what would have been a dramatic moment had they been stars of a holomovie.

He could see his team in front of him.

They were stood aboard the wreckage of the USS Coleman.

They were stood aboard the bustling, well-trained engineering deck of the USS Coleman hours before any danger had cast her down to Phobos.

They were stood aboard the same engineering spot, as the ships warp core was first fired.

They were stood in Sickbay of the USS Octavia E. Butler.

They were stood in all of these places, in the same moment, across different times.

 

Maxwell: Home.

 

His voice was clear, unpained and held a sharp focus to it.

 

Nilsen: I think, this is our ticket out of here. Grab on folks

 

Katsim: Grab on?

 

Lahl: Absolutely not.

 

His glowing gaze was turned upon each of them in turn.

 

Maxwell: Come closer.

 

Nilsen: Just think of the Octavia. thoughts of the family are really strong, and maybe because I was thinking of my family before we ended up here, I dunno,::beat:: I think this is my fault that we are here.

 

Lahl: Aye sir.

 

Maxwell: We're going home.

 

Lahl and Katsim stepped forwards, the circle of energy blazed to an almost blinding degree.

And then Max felt himself falling, drowning, pulling in every direction at once. He heard millions of voices near and far. Children being born, children playing, couples arguaing, business deals and laughter. The screams of pain and war. Violence and joy. It was the sound of everywhere.

Of everywhen.

 

((Sickbay, Deck 5, USS Octavia E Butler))

 

Were it not for the situation, his landing could have been hilarious.

He came into sickbay like a torpedo, in a standing position. His legs clipped a biobed, sending him into a flip that dumped him painfully onto the deck where he slid and smashed against a bulkhead.

Somewhere else he heard Katsim land with a cry of pain, and elsewhere still came a cacaphony of crashes and bangs like the contents of a kitchen had been dropped down a metal fire escape. That had to be Nilsen, or Lahl.

 

The breath was suddenly knocked from him by the last of their number. Instinctively he grabbed at the body that had thumped onto him, hoping to prevent a further collision with the bulkhead like he had. Too stunned by his landing and several collisions, he simply lay where he was with the weight of whoever it was pressing down on him and an arm protectively around their shoulders.

 

Nilsen: Erm... did we do it? I think we did ::laughs:: oh did we send it or did we send it?

 

Lahl: Hey…hey Maxwell…

 

Max felt a gentle patting against his arm.

Looking down himself, he found Lahl flat atop him with cheek smushed into his chest. She looked almost lifeless, and Max began to look around for assistance.

 

Lahl: I…I need you to do something for me…ok? One, there’s some high quality engineering tools in my quarters, they’re in the storage behind my bed…I need Caras to have those…please…b, I need you to keep Lhandon calm, ok? He’s going to beat himself up, and fish, tell Dr. Nis it’s not her fault. Alright? Thanks.

 

He couldn't – daren't – move considering the shape that she appeared to be in.

Realising he still had an arm locked around her, he released it and began waving to the stunned looking medical staff across from him.

 

Maxwell: Gonnae need a hand here!

 

Nilsen: Oh yes…erm…I ain’t a nurse, we need a nurse, and a doctor.

 

Several medical personnel rushed over and began to lift Lahl.

 

Maxwell: Easy, easy! Get her up ontae that bed. ::A pause, as he turned away.:: Doc! We need you here, now! ::And back again as he noticed her going under.:: Hey, Lahl? Stay with us, ok? Lahl? Lahl! Doc!