By Commander TC Blane and Ensign Dane Cristiane
80213.15
Following Sweating It
-=Bridge USS Alchemy=-
80213.15
Following Sweating It
-=Bridge USS Alchemy=-
TC sat in the command chair as he stared out at the large star that now was situated behind them. The events that lead up to this point tumbled around in his head as well as their current situation.
“Bru, what is our exact current position?”
"We're maintaining orbit twenty million kilometers from Beta-626. And frankly, I wouldn't want to be a millimeter closer."
He turned to Dane. “Ensign, give me a damage report.”
Dane rose from the currently useless communications panel and headed over to the engineering station. Figuring they weren't going anywhere for a while, he took his time in sauntering from his first location to the second, as well.
He sighed as if it were all a great big bother, finally deigning to throw a cursory glance toward the panel and hit a few buttons. He stared back at Blane, drew a leisurely breath and hissed it out slowly between his teeth before he spoke.
"We're screwed. Sir."
TC swung around to face the ensign as he hopped out of the command chair and approached the young man.
“That, Ensign, is not the reply I was looking for, in fact, that is more of an opinion of the current situation.”
He glared menacingly at Dane. “When I want your opinion I’ll wring it out of you. Now give me the damn damage report!” His eyes conveyed the sincerity of his statement.
Dane's face reddened slightly, as he felt the eyes of everyone on the bridge staring at him disapprovingly. Apparently he had vastly overrated his charm, and now was not the time for any attempts at humor.
"Standard warp drive is offline." He performed a more thorough assessment of the engineering systems before offering, "I can't even get a reading on the transwarp components. It's like they don't exist anymore."
"They probably don't." February grumbled, as she realized that she was beginning to feel at once both hot and cold. A shiver shook her shoulders.
*This can not be a good sign,* she thought. *C'mon Grace, you old geez, you just had shore leave. Suck it up.*
"Communications, weapons, external sensors are all offline. Shields are down to fifteen percent." Talbot chimed in from Tactical, showing Dane up and reinforcing Dane's first impression that this guy was a real piece of. . .
"Should we maintain position, Sir?" February asked. "Or should we set a course at impulse back toward the Sera's last known location?" February was wondering as she spoke if in fact the Sera had not already set course to try to find them.
TC turned back toward the helm and looked at Grace. She looked terrible.
“Lieutenant, you are relieved. I want you to report to Sickbay and have the whoever isn't working on Kellyn treat you for radiation exposure.” He held up his hand to stop the protest that he was sure to come. “That is an order.”
He turned back to Dane. “Take the helm, Ensign. Move us away from the star at maximum impulse. Once we are a safe distance from the star and the radiation plot a course around the star to the last known location of the Sera.”
"But if they've come looking for us, and don't know we transwarped through the star won't we miss them?" Dane regretted the words as soon as he'd spoken them, but it was too late.
"I'm sure that if they leave their last known location, they'll leave a signal beacon. Or a trail of breadcrumbs. Set the course!"
He addressed Talbot next. “I need an assessment of out tactical situation. See if there are any bad guys out there, hijack the navigational sensors if you have to but we need to know what is around us.”
TC strode back to the command chair and hit the comm. “Bridge to engineering.”
[Breaux here, Sir.]
“I need you and Dengar to make getting our communications array back online your top priority. I need to hail the Sera ASAP before our good Captain goes flying our base ship into the star looking for us.”
[Understood]
TC turned and sat down hitting the comm once again. “Bridge to Sickbay, I have Lt. Grace enroute to you. She’ll need treatment for radiation exposure.”
[Aye sir we’ll be looking for her.]
TC paused a moment before continuing. “How is our engineer?”
[We're still working on the resuscitation. We'll keep you advised. Sickbay out.]
Micah Samson and Blane glanced at each other, sharing a look that conveyed their unspoken concern. They'd known Kellyn longer than anyone else still on the bridge at this point, and that was not the news that they wanted to hear.
-=Turbolift=-
February leaned against the wall inside the lift and closed her eyes.
She wasn't a whiner when it came to physical discomfort, she'd had her fair share in her life. But this was something different. She felt a certain sense of foreboding- convinced that something was really wrong with Grace. The radiation was poisoning the symbiont, had to be, and she was powerless to stop it from happening.
She knew that there was no point in trying to argue with TC Blane once he'd made up his mind about dismissing her from her station.
Even if he wasn't commanding this mission, their unique relationship- that of being each other's 'chosen' sibling. . . would have ensured that if she hadn't agreed to go get treatment voluntarily he'd have thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of Vanta Root vegetables and carried her there himself.
When she arrived, everything in the Alchemy's small Sickbay was in chaos.
She saw a lifeless figure lying on the center biobed and hated to think that it could possibly be Lair, but she knew that it was.
Kellyn had some visible burns and her uniform, which the medical team was hurrying to cut off of her, looked tattered, as if it had been sheared with scissors while she was still wearing it.
Her boots, which were lying on the deck beside the biobed, actually showed signs that the thick soles had melted as whatever had sent the shock through Kellyn sought ground.
February knew that she'd be in the way here, and she didn't want to be. Not having any idea that TC had already contacted the staff, she backed towards the hallway again, thinking she'd slip away unnoticed.
"Lt. Grace," Nurse Miller rushed forward, hypospray in hand. "Commander Blane told us you were on the way. This should help you feel a little better. The EMH is offline and the doctor is,"
"I know," February interrupted, "It's all right. I'll be all right."
"She'll want to check you over," Kathy insisted. She gave Bru the hypo for exposure, and then something to calm her stomach. She pointed to the biobed in the corner. "If you'll just wait there, we'll get to you just as soon as we can."
February nodded. She sat down, fully intending when she did so on following orders. But within minutes of watching and listening to the staff work on Lair, she couldn't stand to see any more and looked away.
She thought of all the people whose lives would be affected if Kellyn didn't make it. Most of all, she thought of Salvek, and Arie.
As she contemplated their situation, February's mind focused on two harsh realities.
One, that it was going to be awhile before anyone on the medical staff would be looking at her, and even when they did likely they wouldn't have the facilities here aboard the Alchemy that they'd need to really treat Grace properly.
Secondly, if she didn't get back to the helm and Cristiane was really flying this thing, it may not matter because she was entirely certain that he'd find a way to get them all killed, somehow.
She knew what she had to do.
Mind made up she stood, and quietly made her exit from Sickbay. Directly, she returned to the bridge.
Blane eyed her warily as she exited the lift. "Everything all right?"
"Yep." Bru replied. "I'm fine. I'm ready to return to duty, Sir." She moved toward the helm and she stood behind Cristiane, waiting respectfully for Blane to give the order.
TC folded his arms, not fully convinced but also knowing that he needed her experience at the helm. “OK, take your station.”
Once Dane exited the seat and TC waved him over. “Head down to engineering and see what you can do to lead a hand. Even if it is handing socket wrenches out of a toolbox it will help. Especially considering they are down an engineer.”
Dane nodded and then stared away. TC called out behind him.
“I need you to be my eyes and ears down there. I don’t want to keep pulling the engineers away from the repairs so I want status reports from you. Understood?”
Dane sighed dramatically and blinked repeatedly. "You want me to be your gofer."
"Exactly."
"Yes, Sir."
As the lift doors closed, he muttered. "First I'm Zanh's lackey. Now I'm Blane's gofer. Next, I'll be forced to put on a hat and have a tea party with the XO's little brat."
As he strode into Main Engineering and saw the blast marks that scarred the otherwise pristine, onyx colored deck, his stomach lurched.
That had to be, he realized, the space of flooring where Lair Kellyn had been standing. Seeing the sight, he felt like an ass.
Here Salvek's wife- that 'brat's' mother- may have just died in service of the ship and crew including his sorry hide, and he was bitching about taking a few orders.
At times like this, he asked himself with all seriousness if everyone who ever said that he was worthless hadn't been right, after all.
-------------------------------------
Commander TC Blane
Acting CO
USS Alchemy NX-53099
and
Ensign Dane Cristiane
Communications Officer
USS Serendipity/Alchemy
Commander TC Blane
Acting CO
USS Alchemy NX-53099
and
Ensign Dane Cristiane
Communications Officer
USS Serendipity/Alchemy