by Keiran O’Sullivan
90628.18
Concurrent with All Fall Down
and Not So Sweet Vindication
-=USS Zenith=-
90628.18
Concurrent with All Fall Down
and Not So Sweet Vindication
-=USS Zenith=-
Keiran watched in shock as the Domox ships disappeared back through the portal.
“Liis,” he blurted, “What’s goin’ on over there…”
[Stand by.] Zanh requested, and after hearing a chilling confession from the Sera’s chief engineer claiming that he’d killed everyone on the other side of the passageway, Keiran’s heart sped up.
“What did he just say?” He asked Dwan for confirmation, disbelieving it was possible, though his heart already told him that he already knew.
“Dengar said that he killed them all, Sir.” Tubman reiterated softly. “They’ve closed the channel on that end.”
“Get her back.” Keiran demanded. “I need to speak to the Captain privately right away.”
Keiran blinked repeatedly, trying to remember what he needed to do next, to begin to decide what he should say now.
“They’re not answering.” Tubman said regretfully.
“Keep tryin’.” Keiran asked. Slowly, he took jerking, unsteady strides toward the viewscreen. He continued staring at the empty space where the Domox ships had been- where he had hoped so much that Nicholas Lassiter and the other eight hundred and seventy souls that had been stolen from the very deck beneath his feet, would be.
He had wanted, so much, to save them.
To save Gemini Lassiter’s son. Now…
He glanced over to Vol Tryst, who sat still as a statue and silent as the grave before him, staring straight ahead in shock.
“Tryst,” Keiran said, fighting for every word. “Tell me that there’s a chance for them. That an’a’one could’ve survived that.”
Vol’s expression did not alter. His body did not change position, his head only turned nearly imperceptibly to the side, confirming Keiran’s fears.
There were no survivors beyond the breach.
Tears burned O’Sullivan’s eyes like the very flames of Hell, but he fought them back. No time for them now, most of all not in front of the crew around him who’d been through so much already.
“Status.” He rumbled gently. “Please.”
“Shields are gone, Captain,” Dwan began, “Damage is heavy ship-wide. Hull is a mess all over the place…” the man shook his head. “We’ve lost life support on decks seven through fifteen. The port side of the ship on those decks is open to space.”
“Well then.” Keiran whispered softly, choking again on the lump in his throat. “Doesn’ matter much does it? Is no one down there an’a’way.” The despair in his voice stirred and touched the hearts of all present.
O’Sullivan was, above all else, a thoughtful and deeply emotional man, and as hard as he’d tried to fight his very nature to this point during this mission, it was getting more difficult by the second. “Seal those decks, Mister Tubman.” He requested. “There’ll…be crews comin’ aboard to…” he stopped. “To.”
He stammered as the image of a young face took form in his mind and stopped all other thoughts instantly. “Oh, God. Poor lil’ Gira. How am I ever gonna,” Keiran stopped.
Finally, he allowed his head to drop into his hands. His massive shoulders slumped, and he tried to breathe only to find that the air felt like daggers stabbing his lungs, unforgiving blades of steel against his flesh, running him through.
Raising blue eyes brimming with tears back to the viewscreen, he took a moment to do the only thing he felt right doing in this moment; when the reality of all the lives lost was just beginning to hit them all. To hit him.
He prayed.
He focused blurred vision as best he could on the place where the last ship had disappeared, to the now still and silent void of black, dotted only by lonely, dimming stars.
“Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord,” Keiran closed his eyes and bowed his head, and the others could only listen, mesmerized. “And let perpetual light shine upon them.”
“Amen.” Tubman concluded, when finally able to find his voice.
Landry Steele was frozen at her station. She imagined that the lights on the face of her compass, which was still in O’Sullivan’s pocket, must be doing one of two things right now and she was desperate to know which it was.
It was either lit up like a Roman candle, or it was silent and resolutely dark.
“Captain O’Sullivan,” She rose from her chair and moved toward him. “I must speak with you, Sir. Right away.”
“No’ now, Landry.” He warned, as he continued staring at open space on the screen. “Dwan, isn’t the Sera respondin’ yet? I need ta speak to m’wife.”
“Still no response, Captain, I’m hailing continually.”
“Captain O’Sullivan,” Landry repeated firmly, “Sir, under code forty one, section thirty two alpha of the,”
“TEMA?” Keiran turned toward her, glaring. “You’re here on behalf of TEMA?”
“Aye, Sir. As an observer.”
“I’m so sick’a those people.” Keiran groaned. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “Observer, yeah? Well what do you make of what’ya’ve observed today, Ensign? We just lost…” he stopped, again taking his head into his hands. “We just lost.”
“Sir, we must discuss the…” her eyes flashed, and he remembered suddenly that he had in his possession something that belonged to her.
He exhaled slowly, wincing as the same stabbing sensation pierced his chest as before with the act of inhaling. “A’right. In the other room, then.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Captain,” Dwan interrupted, “There’s another ship coming into sensor range. It’s the Gauntlet.”
“God in Heaven.” Keiran gasped. “No, she cannot find out like this. It could well kill her.” His thoughts were with Gemini now. She was his friend, before all else, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her finding out she’d just lost her only son over a cold subspace channel. “Get me Captain Zanh now. I’ve got to tell her not to-“
“They’re still telling us to wait,” Dwan replied.
“Then for the love of God, man, get me Gemini Lassiter. HURRY!” Keiran roared.
“Captain O’Sullivan, Sir, we must-“ Landry persisted, and Keiran raised a hand to silence her. His index finger stopped merely centimeters from her face, and he looked as she’d never seen him before.
“I don’t care if you’re here representin’ the bloody gods of Time itself, Ensign. Shut. Up.”
Landry shivered, stunned for once into complete silence.
Keiran spun away, and as he came to a stop over Tubman’s shoulder, he ran his hand back through his hair desperately, nearly taking a handful out by the roots. “Why the hell don’t they answer?” He murmured, as he himself tried hailing again on another frequency, one which would declare loud and clear that this was an emergency and that he needed the Admiral’s attention ahead of all others asking for it. “Why won’t she answer!”
“They’re saying that she’s talking to Captain Zanh and that we have to stand by.”
“No, oh, no.” Keiran shook his head. Liis was not the person to be telling Gem this. Knowing Gem, she wouldn’t wait for answers, she wouldn’t listen to reason, she wouldn’t hear sense…
“Lair Kellyn wants to speak to you,” Tubman announced suddenly.
“Sorry, she’ll hav’ta wait.” Keiran said. “Lassiter. Now.”
“Captain O’Sullivan.” Landry’s voice wavered as she stood behind him once again. “Sir, I must speak with you now.”
Realizing that it was likely already too late to prevent from happening what he had hoped to prevent from happening, Keiran finally relented. “Follow me.”
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Commander Keiran O’Sullivan
Security Liaison
to The Alchemy Project
Currently in command of the USS Zenith
Commander Keiran O’Sullivan
Security Liaison
to The Alchemy Project
Currently in command of the USS Zenith