by Keiran O’Sullivan
90614.20
Concurrent with Round One
-=Bridge, USS Zenith=-
90614.20
Concurrent with Round One
-=Bridge, USS Zenith=-
“They’re coming around for another pass,” LT. Tubman informed Keiran O’Sullivan from his position at tactical. “Shields are holding.”
“Keep rotatin’ the modulation between the frequencies I specified.” Keiran instructed as he paced. He never could stay seated for long at times like this even though the habit of standing had landed him on his back more times than he cared to count when the ship, whatever ship he found himself on, was thrown off kilter.
“Who the hell is flying that thing?” Ensign Steele wondered as she tried to monitor the garbled transmissions of bridge sounds coming into her earpiece from the Serendipity. Unfortunately they were either too quiet to be heard or too loud to be understood. “They’re insane. I didn’t know there was anyone still aboard ship that could fly like that.”
A grin crept across Keiran’s face, one he couldn’t prevent for the pride that inspired it. “That…” he crowed softly, “is my wife.”
A second later, he nodded to the ensign sitting the Zenith’s helm. “Don’t try to cut her off, wha’ev’r ya do.” He warned. “She’s too quick and we’ll go flyin’ all right. Just keep doin’ what ya can to draw enemy fire.”
So far, the ensign was doing a good job of waving the Zenith before the Domox like the proverbial red flag in front of a bull.
Keiran shot a look at Vol Tryst, who was sitting quietly in the XO’s chair. He considered asking if the man had any insights to offer, but the look on Trysts’ face led him to believe that Vol was hard at work, trying to process everything that he could around them and that he’d speak up if there was anything imperative that O’Sullivan, or Zanh, needed to know.
His surroundings shuddered again as the Zenith took another hit. Keiran staggered but managed to stay on his feet. He nodded with satisfaction. Another punch they’d taken meant another the Sera, and Liis, were spared.
“Shields are dropping!” Tubman warned.
“The secondary computer core is fried.” Lt. Kendall explained from the engineering station.
“I need shields, Mister Kendall!” Keiran barked.
“The bioneural gel pack network has several breaches…trying to reroute power to the shields!” Kendall responded.
“I hate those damned things.” Keiran muttered, as the ship took another volley of Domox fire and he was finally shaken free of the deck.
He clattered down in a heap as PADDs, people, and anything else that wasn’t bolted to the ground or nailed to the walls flew into the air.
Sparks rained from the science panel, but fortunately the ensign manning it had been thrown from his seat before he could be burned by the explosion. The man moved to a vacant station and quickly returned to his work.
Dwan struggled to his feet again and moved to offer Keiran a hand, but O’Sullivan waved him of.
“Am fine! Keep firin’!” he demanded.
As he was about to rise, Keiran stopped cold where he sat. Something else had gone flying from the force of the last blow they’d taken, and it had rattled across the deck, bouncing along until it finally came to a stop up against the tip of his boot.
Instantly, he knew what it was.
What he didn’t know was whom it could possibly belong to.
Looking up slowly, he scanned those around him, one by one as they returned to their stations.
The very last set of eyes he found across the bridge was the one that told him all he needed to know.
Locked onto the gaze of Landry Steele as she slowly lowered herself back into the seat at the Communications station, Keiran glared. Her eyes registered panic as she saw what he held in his hands.
Her own hand flew instinctively to her hip, to the spot where the item in question had been hidden before. Of course, it was no longer there.
It was too late. He saw it, he saw her, and he knew.
Keiran O’Sullivan was now holding her Temporal Compass.
“Where the hell did’ya get that?” Keiran whispered, and though Steele couldn’t hear the words, she knew what the message was.
“Captain, the Domox are making another run.” Dwan warned.
Keiran clasped his enormous hand closed around the compass, concealing it for now from the others. He turned away a moment and pocketed it before he returned his attention to the matter at hand.
He’d have to talk to Steele, but now wasn’t the time for it.
“Sir, I’m reading an energy buildup here…” Kendall reported nervously.
“Where?” Keiran growled, thinking that he meant ‘here’ as in ‘somewhere on the Zenith.’
“Here!” Kendall shouted, rattled by his commanding officer’s tone. “On the bridge, here!”
Keiran spun in a circle, still uncertain just where ‘here’ meant. “Kendall, I need those shields!”
“Shields are coming back online in ten seconds,” Kendall said, stopping and shaking his head. “Nine…eight…damn it’s too late! The energy readings are increasing. I think it’s a transporter.”
“Intruder alert!” Keiran shouted, drawing his phaser but still not entirely sure where to aim it.
A bright light appeared and then quickly faded. The shields came up again, and the helmsman began to fly another evasive pattern to distract the Domox from the Sera.
Keiran suddenly found himself staring into the face of a terrified looking woman in a Starfleet uniform. “Ensign?” he questioned gently, unsure just who or what he was dealing with.
“Grey.” She responded. “Natalie…Grey.” She began to sway, and despite his better judgment Keiran found himself reaching out and clasping his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling. She spoke one more word before going limp in his arms. “Nick.”
Vol Tryst leapt up from his chair and assisted O’Sullivan in moving the unconscious woman to the nearest available chair. Keiran’s eyes questioned Vol.
“Nick?” Keiran repeated, wondering if it possible she could be speaking of Nicholas Lassiter. Had to be…”What do ya make of her, Couns’lr?”
“I believe she is who she says she is,“ Vol began slowly. He’d felt the woman’s pain clearly the moment she appeared before them. A pain so deep, and so paralyzing that Vol himself had at first been unable to move because of it.
“Captain O’Sullivan!” Landry called reluctantly to get his attention.. Even though she hated to remind him of her presence at this particular moment in time, she had no choice. “There’s an incoming hail from another ship. It’s…”
“It’s the Alchemy!” Tubman completed the thought for her, as Keiran responded.
“Onscreen.”
[Could you use a little help, Commander?] Lair Kellyn asked. Over her shoulder, Keiran saw Dane, who looked very relieved that from the expression on O’Sullivan’s face, it appeared that his message had gotten through.
“Aye, we could at that. Much obliged, Lair Kellyn.” Keiran nodded. “Much obliged.”
The screen went black, and Dwan watched as the Alchemy zipped along, joining the fight.
Keiran watched as the woman in the chair began to come around, and he leaned down to inspect her closely.
He knew that it was still possible she was an imposter, a plant beamed over from the Domox ship, but knowing what Tryst now understood of their adversary, Keiran believed him when he said that she was the real thing.
“Nick.” The woman repeated, and Keiran spoke softly to her as Vol once again reeled.
Her emotions were strong, they ran deep, and she was grieving for this man, Nick, whoever he was.
“Nick who?” Keiran asked.
She started mumbling incoherently, and Keiran finally put a strong hand upon her shoulder and gently shook her once. “ Ensign! You said the name Nick. Nick who?”
Tears filled her eyes, and she began to tremble. “Lassiter.” Her voice quivered as she grasped hold of O’Sullivan’s arm tightly. The room was still spinning, and she leaned into him as if still afraid she would fall. “Nick Lassiter. USS Zenith.”
“That's the ship yer on.” Keiran whispered. “Where is Lassiter?”
“He’s…” Natalie sobbed now, the truth of what had really happened crushing her. “He gave his life to save mine.” She couldn’t escape the horror of the last image of Nick in her mind. She wondered if she’d ever again be able to think of him any other way.
“He did what?” Keiran gasped. He did not want to hear what he was hearing.
“Nicholas Lassiter,” she moaned pitifully, “is dead.”
---------------
Commander Keiran O’Sullivan
Security Liaison to The Alchemy Project
Currently in Command
USS Zenith NCC-71215
Commander Keiran O’Sullivan
Security Liaison to The Alchemy Project
Currently in Command
USS Zenith NCC-71215