Lt. Schrader proceeded directly to the bridge from sickbay, his concern for the away team numbing the pain in his shoulder. As he stepped through the door, he noted the grim expression
on Mr. Schultz's face.
"What happened, sir?", he asked urgently, though he suspected he wouldn't like the answer.
The Huckster shook his head wearily. "The Commander has been shot."
Schultz nodded. "I'm afraid so", he replied, "we just got word."
The pilot stumbled under the shock the science officer's statement, as though he'd been struck by the wave of guilt washed over him. Maybe if he hadn't gotten shot himself, this never would have happened.
"I cant believe he's dead.", he croaked, his voice thick with emotion.
"Dead!", Schultz demanded, "who's dead?!?"
Schrader looked at the Huckster with some confusion. "You said the commander was dead!"
"No", Schultz argued, "I said, 'I'm afraid so', when you asked if he was 'you know'."
Schrader threw up his hands in exasperation. "Everyone knows that, 'you know', means dead!", he exclaimed. He composed himself with some effort before continuing. "What did y'all mean
then, Mr. Schultz?"
"I meant that he was unconscious."
"Oh, I see", Schrader observed. "Is he going to be alright?"
"I believe so.", Schultz replied. "Corporal Broski states that the commander sustained a head injury, but he thinks he bring him around relatively quickly."
"Yeah", Schrader remarked, "how's he plannin' on doin' that?"
