Chapter Text
Transporter Room— Moments After the Away Team Beams Aboard
The transporter beam faded and chaos took its place.
Erica lay crumpled on the deck, M’Benga’s hands pressed hard against the gaping wound in her abdomen. Blood seeped between his fingers as each of her breaths came out ragged, wet. Her head lolled against his shoulder while he shouted over the noise.
La’an was still supporting a dazed Sam Kirk, eyes glassy from impact when the Gorn hit him. Around them, medics rushed forward.
“We need to close the wound now!” M’Benga barked, voice tight with exhaustion.
The team moved with precision: hyposprays hissed, tricorders scanned, autosutures flashed to life. Erica’s vitals leveled, barely. She was unconscious, body limp, the red glow of warning lights painting her too-pale skin.
“I can walk,” Sam insisted, though he clearly couldn’t. La’an gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue, half-guiding, half-dragging him toward the overflow infirmary.
The space was overflowing. Cots lined the walls, biobeds filled with civilians pulled from the Gorn digestion sacs. The air was alive with the chorus of beeping monitors and the low hum of barely contained panic.
“Medical emergency. Critical abdominal trauma! I need a biobed, now!” M’Benga called out.
A nurse quickly shifted a semi-conscious colonist aside. “Set her here. Hurry!”
They lowered Erica gently onto the bed. Her vitals flared red across the monitors.
“BP’s crashing,” the nurse said, activating a vascular regenerator. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”
Her gaze flicked to Erica’s mangled hand, several digits gone.
“The hand can wait?”
“Focus on the abdomen,” M’Benga said sharply. “Stop the internal bleed first.”
Across the bay, La’an eased Sam onto a cot. His movements sluggish. The room pulsed with sound: hissing instruments, clipped orders, and the quiet heroism of too few hands doing too much at once.
“Infirmary, report,” Una’s calm voice came through the comm.
M’Benga didn’t look up. “All accounted for. Lieutenant Ortegas is critical, but stable for now.”
“Understood,” Una replied. “Keep me updated.”
Erica lay still under the medbed lights, her lips tinged blue despite the oxygen feed.
A nurse hesitated. “Doctor, we can call someone else in…”
“I’ve got it,” M’Benga said, voice low and firm. “Penetrating wound, upper abdomen. Partial liver tear, possible bowel perforation. Autosuture.”
They worked quickly, sealing layer after layer.
“She’s responding,” the nurse murmured, watching the vitals rise. “BP stabilizing… heart rate normalizing.”
M’Benga finally exhaled, the red on the screen fading to green. “Internal repair complete. She’ll need rest, but she’s stable.”
He stripped off his gloves, exhaustion in every line of his face. “Transfer her to post-op. The hand can wait.”
“And you, Doctor,” came a familiar voice, soft, but steady.
He turned sharply. “Christine? We thought—”
“Spock pulled me out,” she said simply, a faint, tired smile flickering across her face. “Now sit down before you fall down.”
Overflow Infirmary - Later
The infirmary had quieted, but the hum of life-support monitors filled the air. Erica’s world drifted in and out, a haze of light and sound.
…blood volume’s improving…
…no signs of infection…
…she’s holding steady…
Warm fingers wrapped around her uninjured hand, grounding her.
“She’ll be okay,” Christine Chapel murmured softly, as if saying it would make it true.
Then came the quiet beep of an open comm channel.
“This is Nurse Chapel to the bridge.”
Una voice answered, steady and controlled.
“Go ahead.”
“The away team’s stable. Lieutenant Ortegas survived surgery: internal injuries, blood loss, but she’s holding. La’an, M’Benga, and Sam Kirk are treated and resting.”
There was a long pause before Pike’s voice came through as well, quiet but filled with relief.
“Good work, Christine. Take care of yourself too.”
“I’m fine,” she said softly. “Still a lot of colonists to see to.”
Erica heard the voices through the haze, familiar and warm. She wanted to answer, to tell them she could hear, but the sedative was too strong.
Her last drifting thought before the darkness took her again was of the ship, the hum of the Enterprise, steady and alive, and the quiet, certain knowledge that she was home.
Overflow Infirmary — Awakening
Sound returned first, the soft beeps, the low murmur of voices. Then light, pale and sharp behind her eyelids. Then the ache, deep and pulling through her middle.
Erica drew in a breath. It hurt. But it was real.
When her eyes blinked open, the blur resolved into a familiar face, blonde hair hastily pulled back, blue eyes tired but warm.
“Hey,” said Christine Chapel, her voice gentle. “Welcome back.”
Erica blinked. “...Christine?”
“In the flesh,” Chapel said, smile trembling a little. “Barely standing, but yes.”
Erica frowned, voice still weak. “We thought you were—”
“Dead?” Chapel finished softly. “Yeah. We all thought that for a while. Turns out I’m not easy to get rid of.”
From across the room came another familiar voice, calm, steady, grounding.
“Lieutenant,” said Commander Una Chin-Riley as she approached. “It’s good to see you awake.”
Erica managed a faint smile. “Good to be awake. Mostly. What’s the damage report?”
Chapel beat her to it. “One deep abdominal wound, a few repaired tears, and a hand awaiting regeneration. You were in surgery for almost an hour.”
Erica’s brow furrowed. “The others? M’Benga? La’an? Sam?”
“All safe,” Una said. “You were the only critical one.”
Erica’s gaze shifted back to Chapel. “And you…”
Chapel’s expression softened. “Yeah. It’s a long story. You can yell at me about it later.”
Una’s lips quirked faintly. “Captain Pike’s been getting updates every ten minutes.”
Erica let out a soft breath. “That sounds like him.”
“Rest,” Una said gently. “That’s an order.”
Erica nodded, already sinking back into the medbed as the voices faded into the hum of the ship.
Christine’s alive, she thought. We made it.
Overflow Infirmary: The Next Morning
The infirmary was calm now, dim, warm light reflecting off smooth panels, many of the rescued colonists already transferred to temporary quarters until they reached Earth. The rush of the emergency had faded.
Erica lay propped up slightly,her left hand suspended in a faint blue regeneration field.
The door hissed open.
“Erica?” came Pike’s familiar, steady voice.
Erica smiled faintly. He stepped closer, hands resting on the bed’s edge. “Good to see you upright. How’re you feeling?”
“Like I lost a bar fight with a warp core,” Erica said. “But alive. So, better than yesterday.”
Pike smiled, small, genuine. The kind that softened all the lines of command. “You scared the hell out of us.”
“Guess I like to keep things interesting,” she murmured.
“I’ll let M’Benga and Chapel know that. I think they’d prefer less interesting for a while.”
She chuckled weakly, then her voice softened. “Christine’s really okay?”
“She is,” Pike said. “Tired, but fine. She barely left your side last night.”
Erica’s expression eased, relief flickering through the fatigue. “Good. I thought I lost her.”
Pike nodded slowly. “We’ve all thought that too many times lately.”
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence.
“You know,” Pike said finally, “the bridge feels empty without your voice up there.”
“Give me a week,” Erica said, a faint grin tugging at her mouth. “Maybe two. I’ll have the Enterprise flying prettier than ever.”
“Engineering might want a turn first,” he teased. “But I’ll hold you to that.”
He hesitated, then reached out, a hand on her shoulder, steady and kind. “You did good down there, Erica. You got your people home. That’s what matters.”
Her eyes glistened, but she smiled. “Thanks, Captain.”
He tilted his head. “Pilot to pilot: what was it like flying that Gorn ship?”
Erica huffed a quiet laugh. “Wild. The controls were almost intuitive. Not exactly a smooth ride, though.”
“I can imagine.” Pike’s grin returned. “Rest up, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”
As he turned to leave, Erica leaned back, eyes half-closed, the steady hum of the Enterprise surrounding her.
Home, she thought, as she drifted back into sleep.