TNG - A Time . 8 - A Time To Heal (c) by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek [Star Trek]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Tags: \Star Trek
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2011-01-02T07:59:38.064000+00:00

Chapter 14

U.S.S. Enterprise-E

PEART’S JOINTS made cracking sounds as he eased himself off of the biobed. Rolling his neck, he paid attention to the popping release of every vertebra. He let go of a tired gasp and rubbed his eyes with one hand. Dr. Tropp had patched him up in record time, and then told him to clear out of sickbay to make room for people who needed the bed more urgently. The deputy chief of security looked around for his shoes.

The door swished open. Perim hurried in, scanned the room until she found Peart, then walked directly to his side.

He caught her in a tight embrace. She kissed the side of his neck. The silken texture of her hair against his fingers was a comfort to him. Pressing her forehead against his, she closed her eyes. Listening to her, he realized how rapidly he was breathing. He focused on the rhythm of her respiration, and slowed his own breathing until it fell into tempo with hers.

Peart opened his eyes to see her looking back at him.

She didn’t speak. Somehow they both sensed that they were beyond small talk. Some threshold of intimacy had been crossed that made it no longer necessary to fill every silence.

Finally, he said in a somber tone, “I got a lot of good people killed today.” Her palm softly brushed his cheek. Self-loathing and shame welled up inside him like a dark fountain. “I might as well have painted bull’s-eyes on them.” Bitter tears stung his eyes. “They trusted me.”

Perim gently stroked her fingertips through the brush-cut hair over his ear. “What did Vale say?”

“She told Picard I was following her orders,” he said. “Then she put me back on the Enterprise.”

“You were following her orders, weren’t you?”

“She told me to pick a target,” he said. “I picked one. I wrote the attack plan.”

Perim sounded like she was desperately fishing for a way to salve his conscience. “But she approved it?”

He wasn’t letting himself off the hook so easily. “Yeah, but I gave the order to go through the door.”

She sat down on the biobed and gently pulled him back down next to her. Placing her arm across his shoulders, she said, “You knew it could end badly when you went in.”

“I know.”

Reaching over with her other hand, she interlocked her fingers with his. “And you’ve been sent through doors by people who knew it might get you killed. It’s part of the job.”

“Listen to you,” he said. “The Starfleet apologist.”

She sighed. “I’m not trying to give you a pep talk,” she said. “I’m still serious about wanting out. I’d leave tomorrow. I’d leave today. But I don’t want you blaming yourself for a mission that went wrong.”

He got up, grabbed his uniform jacket from the foot of the bed, and walked toward the door. “There’s no one else to blame,” he said. He heard her follow him into the corridor.

“You had your orders,” she said, walking behind him. “You went in there with them. And you almost died with them.

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