In principio: Held Long Enough Part 2

Posted on Wed Jul 22nd, 2026 @ 2:11pm by Master Chief Petty Officer Julian Trent

1,902 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: USS Murmansk
Timeline: 2375

Julian leaned closer without touching the exposed components. “Can you bypass it?”

“I can bridge the local control to the secondary relay,” she replied, pulling two connectors from the kit before studying the cut-out inside the junction. “Somebody will have to hold the manual cut-out during the dead cycle.”

Julian followed her attention towards the discoloured protective housing. “I’ll take the cut-out.”

Velez looked towards him. “It’s closer to the live conduit.”

“I know,” Julian replied, taking the manual tool from the edge of her kit.

“The gloves are rated for the current load,” she said, glancing down at her own hands. “I can do both.”

“Two pairs of hands are better than one, and we want to get out of here quickly,” Julian said, looking back towards the scorched housing. “But I won’t do it if I’m stepping on your toes.”

Velez hesitated, then nodded once. “Fine. You hold the cut-out, and I bridge the control. Move the moment the warning sounds.”

“That was the plan,” Julian replied, settling beside the junction as she shifted into position.

The warning tone sounded before either of them could continue. Julian caught the front of her uniform and pulled her back as power surged through the assembly. Blue-white light snapped across the damaged components, bright enough to leave shapes behind his eyes. The conduit hummed beneath the deck, and somewhere inside the wall metal began to vibrate against metal.

Velez remained close to him until the power dropped, then pushed his hand away from her uniform. “You could have warned me without grabbing me.”

“I thought the alarm was making a reasonable effort,” Julian replied, releasing her as he checked the timer. “Seventeen seconds.”

Velez swore under her breath and moved. They worked across three cycles, with Velez stripping the damaged interface, fitting the replacement bridge and recalibrating the secondary relay while Julian kept count and used the manual tool to hold the cut-out. The corridor trembled around them with each distant impact, though the hull frame remained within tolerance.

On the fourth cycle, Velez pushed the final connector into place and watched the indicator change from red to amber. “Bridge installed,” she said, shifting backwards as the warning tone sounded again. “Move.”

Julian pulled the manual tool free and stepped away from the junction just before power surged through it. The replacement connector held. The light along the secondary relay stabilised, and the weapons status on his wrist display changed from unavailable to local control.

He looked towards Velez, allowing himself one breath of relief. “Nicely done.”

She was breathing hard, though satisfaction cut through the fear in her face. “You are welcome, Petty Officer.”

The deck moved beneath them, but not with the familiar roll of the ship taking fire. This was smaller and closer, a hard sideways jolt followed by a deep metallic crack from somewhere behind the wall. Julian looked towards the hull seam and saw the fracture widen. The emergency lights flickered as pressure dropped for a fraction of a second, then stabilised when the emergency forcefield caught.

“Get out,” he said, reaching for Velez and pulling her with him.

Another crack tore through the wall before they had taken more than two steps. The damaged hull frame shifted sideways, wrenching the weapons relay housing away from its mount and tearing through the conduits behind it. The warning tone was still sounding when the exposed junction erupted, throwing a burst of heat, debris and broken metal through the corridor. Julian caught Velez across the shoulders and drove her towards the deck, following a split second later.

Something struck his back, another piece tore through his side and the third impact entered his chest with enough force that, for one confused second, he thought the bulkhead itself had punched him. Julian hit the deck on top of Velez, one hand braced beside her head. Sound disappeared beneath a high ringing note, and the corridor became emergency light, smoke and fragments still falling from the ceiling.

Velez moved beneath him, which meant she was alive. Julian tried to push himself up, but his left arm did not cooperate.

“Petty Officer?” Velez’s voice reached him through the ringing as she twisted onto one elbow. Her eyes widened when she looked at his chest. “Julian, don’t move.”

Julian followed her attention. A length of dark metal protruded through the gold of his uniform below the left side of his sternum. Blood had already spread around it, too dark under the emergency lighting and far too quickly.

“That…doesn’t belong there…” he said, though the words came out thinner than he intended, the breath wheezing inside him.

Velez crawled free and turned towards him, one hand hovering above the metal. “I need to get this out.”

“No, leave it where it is,” Julian said, catching her wrist before she touched it. Pain moved through his chest in a sharp, crushing wave, and the corridor narrowed around the edges. He tightened his grip until she looked at him. “Do not pull it free.”

“You’re bleeding,” she said, panic beginning to sharpen the edges of her voice.

“I know,” Julian replied, forcing the word past a breath which would not deepen. “Worse…if you pull.”

Velez reached for her commbadge with her free hand. “Velez to Damage Control, medical emergency at junction eleven-four,” she said, her voice rising despite the control she forced into it. “Petty Officer Trent has penetrating trauma to the chest. We need transport immediately.”

Static answered, and she struck the badge again. “Velez to Damage Control, respond. Medical emergency at eleven-four.”

The corridor lights failed completely before returning at half strength. Julian released her wrist and pressed one hand against the deck, trying to shift enough to see the sealed door. The movement sent something hot and wet through his chest, followed by a strange flutter beneath the pain.

His heart was no longer beating properly. The thought arrived clinically, followed by the details he understood well enough to fear: irregular rhythm, reduced output, possible tamponade or direct myocardial damage. Nico would have known exactly what the blood meant.

Julian closed his eyes for half a second, then opened them because Velez was still staring at him. “Local comms are down,” he said, swallowing against the metallic taste gathering at the back of his throat. “Go to the door and try the comms panel.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she said, shaking her head before looking towards the sealed door.

“You are going six metres away,” Julian replied, pressing his palm harder into the deck when his arm began to shake. “Try the panel, manual alert. Go.”

Velez looked towards the door, then back at him, torn between the instruction and the blood spreading beneath him.

“Please, Velez,” Julian said, putting enough steadiness into the words that she moved before fear could stop her. He knew how he had to look. Blood loss wasn't pretty. Neither was shock.

She scrambled towards the emergency panel, one hand slipping briefly against the deck where blood had spread farther than Julian wanted to examine. The manual interface sparked when she opened it, but she ignored the heat activated it.

Julian lowered himself onto one elbow as breathing became work. Each attempt stopped short, caught somewhere around the metal lodged inside him. He could feel his pulse in places where pulses did not belong, fast and uneven beneath his jaw, then briefly absent before returning with enough force to make the medallion shift against his skin.

The chain had caught beneath the shrapnel. Julian looked down and saw a small length of it against the blood-soaked fabric, bright where the uniform had torn open. Saint Luke was somewhere beneath the metal, pressed against the chest Nico used to touch whenever Julian had come back injured. For one absurd moment, Julian wanted to laugh.

Velez’s voice carried from the panel as she fought to keep it steady. “Damage Control, respond. We have one critical casualty and structural instability at eleven-four.”

A voice answered through heavy static. Julian could not make out the words, but Velez’s shoulders changed with relief, followed immediately by fear. She returned to him on her knees.

“They’re cutting through the door,” she said, placing one hand against the deck beside him. “Medical is on the other side.”

“Good,” Julian said, letting his head rest briefly against the deck before lifting it again. He kept his eyes open, but they were no longer as focused as before. He felt colder. Blood loss. “It held long enough?”

Velez stared at him as though the question itself was offensive. “You cannot possibly care about that right now.”

“I care if…it held long enough,” he said, each word requiring more breath than it should.

Her face twisted with disbelief before she glanced towards his wrist display. “The status went green before the breach. It worked.”

Julian nodded once, the small movement sending pain through his chest. “Good engineering...” he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment before forcing them open again. She said something he did not catch. Julian wanted to ask her to repeat it, but he could not draw enough breath.

Metal groaned at the far end of the corridor. A cutting beam burned through the edge of the sealed door, throwing orange light across the smoke. Velez shifted closer, one hand pressing against Julian’s shoulder while the other hovered near his chest without touching the shrapnel.

His heartbeat changed again, first too fast and then too slow, while the medallion moved against the wound with each broken rhythm. Julian looked towards the cutting light and made himself remember and think. Nico kneeling beside the bed with the chain wrapped around his fingers. Nico touching Julian’s chest after Wolf 359 stories or bad dreams or battles which had ended with both of them alive. Nico smiling against his skin and saying there you are, as though a heartbeat were proof enough of anything. If this was it, Julian decided, then he would go out thinking about that.

Medical personnel came through with a grav-stretcher, forcing Velez aside as they dropped beside him. Hands cut through his uniform, stabilised the shrapnel and pressed instruments against his neck and chest. Someone found the chain and tried to move it away from the wound.

Julian’s hand closed over theirs. “Leave it where it is,” he said, though the words barely carried.

The medic looked towards his face while trying to work around his grip. “Petty Officer, I need access to the injury.”

Julian tried to tighten his fingers and failed. “Don’t…lose it.”

Understanding passed through the medic’s expression before they nodded. “I won’t lose it. I need you to let go now.”

Julian released their hand, and the tricorder above his chest gave a warning tone which changed too quickly for him to follow.

“Cardiac rhythm is collapsing,” another medic said, their hands moving across the portable monitor. “Prepare direct support.”

Velez stood beyond them with one palm pressed against her mouth. Julian looked at her because she was still there and because someone needed to make sure she understood none of this was her fault, but his eyes closed before he could make the words come. The last thing he felt was a hand pressing against his chest.

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