83: Ouch

Ouch
by Ensign Warren Dalca
80113.01
Following The Cold Sting

--=Two Weeks Ago: Aboard the USS Mockingbird=--

Warren couldn't keep himself from chuckling, even though it still caused pain to even breathe. He stared up into the bright lights of the sickbay's ceiling.

"I fail to see what's so funny," Doctor Restik Darin, the ship's Bajoran CMO, grumbled.

The Klingon was laying in the biobed next to the ensign, arm reaching up lazily toward something only he could see.

The doctor swatted the brute's hand down and marched over to the wall console to monitor his vitals.

"Third degree burns from the explosion, lacerations from shrapnel... severe frostbite, multiple fractures of the ulna, torn ligaments, dislocated shoulder..."

"I won, Doctor. He knew I was coming, and I still beat him. We've been looking for Karn since the Alpha Centauri incident."

"...concussive damage to your eardrums, mild *food* poisoning, and a
sprained ankle," the Doctor finished.

"And he managed, somehow, to lose his shirt."

The woman's voice, while not expected, was a welcome sound to Warren's ears.

"Tara," he smiled. "You made it."

The Andorian lieutenant in charge of Karn's pursuit, Nya'Tara Fajr, had joined the Mockingbird over the last few months to oversee his capture, and had made quite the impression with the officers. If her unusual raven-black hair hadn't stood out, then the enthusiasm with which she pursued her work had.

They'd been separated right before Karn decided to start using explosives.

"And so did you," she replied, patting him on his bad shoulder.

"Ungh! Not..."

"Shh..." She smiled at him, then walked over to the doctor. "He'll live?"

Dr. Restik frowned. "Not if I can help it."

Warren winced as he sat up on his bed. "The rest of the team?"

"They're fine," she assured him, antennae angling at his exposed chest for a brief time. "Certainly better off than you. Congratulations, Ensign. I'm going to be mentioning you specifically in my report to Starfleet Headquarters."

He fell back on the bed. "Great."

"Is something the matter?" she asked. But Lieutenant Fajr had already been scrutinizing his behavior and knew how he felt about commendations and the like. Why he didn't want them, or what they brought. Opportunities.

"Oh, we come to that again. You mustn't let your life be dictated by your mother forever."

"I don't want to have this conversation," Warren snapped.

"Neither do I," chimed the good doctor, who slid between them to make a hasty exit. "I'll be in my office."

Both Warren and Nya'Tara watched him walk off. Then she turned to Warren.

"Frankly, I'm disappointed in you. This is no way for an officer to act. Certainly not one with your promise."

"Ooh, please, throw in a demerit with that commendation, why don't you?" He turned away. "Ouch..."

She leaned over the bed, whispering harshly. "You see... *this* is why I wasn't sexually attracted to you. You've got issues, Warren."

"Oh, god, not this... not now." He pulled the pillow out with his good arm and put it over his head.

Fajr crossed her arms and stared at him, antennae flat against her hair and eyes narrowed.

"We're heading back to Earth now. I know you'll be stopping off at the Daystrom Institute on the way. I'm scheduling an appointment with a friend of mine. She's a counselor, and a damned fine one. You're going to talk to her. Understood?"

He let out a big sigh. "Ouch," came the muffled sound, and he tossed the pillow aside. "You heard I was offered that assignment on Serendipity, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"And you think I should take it."

"Yes."

"What makes you think talking to a Counselor will make any difference?"

"I don't know, Warren. Hope? That you'll make the right decision for yourself, for once."

He stared up at the ceiling, eyes squinting at the bright light. "No promises."

She smiled. "Good enough for me." The Klingon's hand started to drift toward her, and she slapped it down.

"Think about the future, Warren, unless you want to end up like Karn here, at the end of your journey."

Warren allowed himself a grin, thinking about his victory today. It really was a good feeling, fulfilling his role as a security officer as he so rarely got to do on the Mockingbird. Taking that position would be a step in the right direction.

Karn stirred in the bed next to him. His arm reached up again, grasping at...

"Butterflies..." the Klingon mumbled drunkenly.

Warren barked a laugh, and his shoulder flared up again.

"Ouch, ahh..."

---------------------------------
Ens. Warren Dalca
Security Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012