Out of Battle
Rating: PG
Warning: Deathfic and AU
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise, and the first and last lines are those of ‘Strange Meeting’ by Wilfred Owen.
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It seemed that out of battle I escaped...
Cold. Captain Reed wrapped his hands round the mug of tea, tasting of beef and god knew what else, but warm. He took a mouthful and turned to look through the periscope. No-man’s Land looked as it always did, frost conspiring to make the jagged edges seem sharper. He turned away, satisfied that nothing was going on and leaned back against the trench wall.
“Anything happening?”
That voice, so out of place. An accent that wanted to be somewhere warm, and wasn’t averse to saying so. How he had ended up here... how had any of them ended up here? Malcolm shook his head in reply. Lieutenant Tucker took his place beside Malcolm, the same posture, hunched around a cup of tea.
Silence. The zig-zag of the trench meant that sounds of others were muffled, distant. Occasional shots, occasional shells, but far enough away to be someone else’s problem.
“I had the oddest dream last night.”
Charles grinned at him.
“Just odd.”
“So tell me.”
“We were aboard a ship. And not upon an ocean, but sailing between the stars. And it was all bright, but grey, metallic, cold.”
Charles shivered. Odd that a description could make him shiver, yet he was unmoved by the temperature.
Malcolm continued. “Cold but alive. It hummed, had a pulse.” He reached up and gently brushed a warmed thumb along Charles’ icy cheek. “You see? Alive, cold.”
Charles took Malcolm’s hand from his face and held it gently. “And what were we doing on this living ship?”
“I worked in the Armoury; you were an Engineer.”
Charles made a face. “You mean the messy jobs. Oil, coal, grease...”
“No. Everything was clean, perfect. The engine was neat, no oil, no grease. A heart, beating.”
Charles smiled. “I like the idea of looking after something’s heart. But you said there were weapons. Who do they fight out there?”
“I... don’t know. There must be a reason to have weapons, mustn’t there? But they looked so unused, neatly stored. And I knew as I dreamed that they were not meant to kill.”
“Weapons that don’t kill?”
“They were meant to stop others from harming them. Guns that could disable an enemy yet cause no injury.” Malcolm paused and looked directly at Charles. “This all sounds so fanciful by the light of day, but as I woke... it seemed as real as this is.”
Charles turned so the two men were facing each other. “It sounds wonderful. Sailing between the stars on a living ship.”
They both looked again at their mugs of now cold tea. So much unsaid. Never voice your hopes, in case that kills them. Once more unnatural quiet.
Malcolm sighed. “Hold the fort while I get a fresh brew?”
Charles dropped, slumped to the ground, the crack of a sniper shot.
Malcolm fell to his knees. “Charles?” He should have known he was next. Should have moved. But he couldn’t.
Let us sleep now.
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