Lt. Robin Hopper: Threshold
Robin Hopper
((Bridge, USS Jemison))
Hopper made her over to Ukinix, speaking to him directly, confidently. It seemed clear enough to her what needed to be done. Without an immediate threat present, they had to work with what they saw before them.
Hopper: If we can get boots on the ground quickly, we might be able to check in with the miners, establish more details – get a look at the situation, see if we can buy more time, and begin preparing them for evacuation.
Richards: Rig shields down to 42%...
Ukinix: ::Grimacing:: Oh geez.
Nadeshiko: Response
The situation was grim – but not impossible. The damage to the mining rig and the potential harms of the benamite-induced spatial fractures could be mitigated… if they acted quickly enough. They were going to need to get down there and start working on both prongs of the problem as quickly as possible.
Hopper: I’ll volunteer to lead the away team, Sir. I understand the science and I’m familiar with mining facilities like this…
She thought back to her time growing up on Theta VII. Maybe it hadn’t been such a dead-end world after all. While she had grown up on a hydroponic farm – her family having lived on Theta VII for only one generation, many of her classmates’ families had been living there since it was just a mining colony on the fringes of Federation space. Her relative familiarity with the local mining ops was sure to come into play here.
Hopper: But I’ll need some help.
Richards: I’ll go.
Robin looked over her shoulder at Nathan, standing at attention. oO It’s cute you think you had a choice. Oo She smiled at him, grateful for his enthusiasm all the same, and then returned her gaze to the CO as he spoke.
Ukinix: Don’t worry, Lieutenant, I wasn’t going to send you by yourself anyway. Captain Rahman would have my guts. ::To Nathan:: At ease, mate.
Richards: I can fly us in and out quickly and safely. I may also be able to bolster their shields to buy us more time for evacuation.
Hopper: ::To Richards:: I’m going to need your help on the rig, but I’d like to keep the shuttle ready for a quick evac. ::To Ukinix:: Can I borrow the helm officer as well, Sir?
The British helmsman turned about in his seat.
Flint: With all due respect, Mr. Richards, I recall the last time you faced off against a spatial rift and I don’t think any of us are looking for a repeat of that. ::To Ukinix:: The Jemison is parked, Sir. Ensign Sh’Jinn can handle her for the moment.
Hopper rolled her eyes at the Lieutenant’s unnecessary comment on Richards’ injuries sustained during the mission just prior to her arrival on the station. Unnecessary, but not wrong. She did want him to be careful… even if this was only a simulation. They had to treat it like a real mission without any unnecessary risk.
Hopper: We’ll keep it short – and let’s keep a channel open. ::To Nadeshiko:: Any heads up of impending catastrophe would be appreciated.
Nadeshiko: Response
Ukinix nodded to Flint, then looked to Richards.
Ukinix: Alright, then. Grab a shuttle and take Lieutenant Richards and Flint with you, report in regularly. EVA suits please. Monitor for radiation levels, I want you to limit how much time you’re on the asteroid, and then come back and get checks for radiation and treatment. Two hours max. Understood?
Richards: ::Nodding:: Yes, Sir.
Flint: Aye. ::Tapping his combadge:: =/\= Flint to Sh’Jinn. Your lucky day. =/\=
Ukinix: Righto. We’ll stay here and coordinate with the rest of the group, Nadeshiko and I will monitor the local environment and keep you posted in case anything changes. ::To Robin:: Good luck, Lieutenant.
Robin opened the panel beside the FO’s seat and removed a Science Officer’s tricorder, clipping it to her hip. Looking up at Wil, she raised her eyebrows.
Hopper: Today I’m the First Officer on an Intrepid. I’m feeling lucky – but we’ll be careful too.
As they crossed the bridge to make their way to the turbo lift, Wil turned and rested one knee on the captain’s chair to address them one last time before the doors shut.
Ukinix: This is a simulation, and the ships’ computers will be simulating health damage, but treat it as real, the miners will be. This is a disaster drill for them too.
She responded with a quick decisive nod, then made her way towards the turbolift, Richards and Flint trailing her. As the doors whooshed open, she turned to Wil with a slight tilt of the head.
Hopper: Won’t be long… ::Smirk:: Don’t let anyone sit in my seat.
The doors shut.
((Turbolift))
Hopper: Deck 9.
The lift began to move. Robin turned to Nathan and caught his smiling gaze. She cocked an eyebrow.
Richards: Your first away mission as an acting XO. ::Raising eyebrows:: I think that trumps dinner and drinks with the Commander.
Hopper: There’s professional progress and there’s social progress, Lieutenant. I’m of the opinion that both are equally important.
Flint: Beer and cricket.
She turned to look at him, a little confused.
Hopper: Hm?
Flint: Nothing, ma’am.
Richards: ::Chuckling:: How about now, can I kick tires and light fires?
Hopper: ::Containing a chuckle:: Patience. ::To Flint:: Mr. Flint, proceed to Deck 10 and start pre-flight. We’ll be right behind you.
The turbolift stopped, and the doors slid open.
Flint: Ma’am?
Hopper: Lieutenant Richards and I are taking a brief detour.
Richards: Response?
((1 Minute Later — Deck 9, Sickbay))
As the doors to the Jemison’s Sickbay slid open, Hopper led Richards inside with a businesslike hurry in her stride, nodding to the junior medical officers on standby as she passed them on her way to the EMH’s office. She was surprised to see him sitting at his desk with his feet up, a PADD in hand.
EMH: ::To Himself, looking at PADD:: You can be my doctor any day, T’Senara.
Hopper: Doctor, we are at Yellow Alert. Is this what you call “prepared” for triage conditions and testing radiation poisoning?
Richards: Response
The white-haired EMH slowly looked up at the pair, and lowered his PADD so that it was sitting on his lap, the illustrated comic’s cells visibly showing the comic that he was reading. Hopper furrowed her brow.
EMH: Welcome to sickbay. Are you the medical emergency?
Richards: Response
Hopper: I’d like to see you on your feet, Doctor. We’re conducting a rescue operation and, personality subroutines or not, I expect an EMH to be active when activated.
oO Unless you want to be the medical emergency… Oo
Hopper: I take it you have replicated doses of Hyronalyn in anticipation of the aforementioned situation? I need a supply to bring with us to the mining rig.
At last she seemed to have the attention of the lethargic hologram.
EMH: I see. Well, I can arrange that. How much Hyronalyn do you need?
Hopper: Minimum six doses — enough for our team and backups. Preferably more, if you can prepare it quickly, in case we encounter any sick survivors. There are several hundred miners stationed in that rig.
Richards: Response
The EMH finally got up and made his way over to the nearby replicator.
EMH: That much, eh. I’ll see what I can do. ::Moving over to console next to replicator:: I can also provide a small box of garlic.
Richards: Response
He began tapping the console next to it, to enter instructions into the replicator. Hopper rolled her eyes. She was going to be writing a fairly critical letter to the programmers responsible for this new iteration. Maybe two years aboard Captain Sh’Thorn’s Wall Street had set her expectations too high, but in Hopper’s opinion, an EMH was meant to be a replacement for a Starfleet Doctor, capable of instantly tackling emergency situations — not a lazy old man. She understood that previous iterations had been criticized for their lackluster bedside manner, but this struck her as too far the other way.
Hopper: ::Unimpressed:: Are we expecting Delta Rays to turn our miners… into vampires?
EMH: Garlic tastes good in a pasta. You just never know.
Robin gave Nathan a window into her thoughts with a scowling glance.
Hopper: ::Mouthing silently:: What the hell?
Richards: Response
Beams of energy began to criss-cross in the replicator. Once completed, a matte dark gray case sat in the replicator’s bay. The hologram grabbed it with two hands, and then turned around to give it to Richards.
EMH: There you are. A box to take with you. Keep in mind it’s complex.
Richards: Response
EMH: No, the word “Hyronalyn” is complex. Some people have difficulty pronouncing it.
Hopper: Right. Thanks very much. ::Turning to Richards:: Let’s go.
Richards: Response
EMH: Take one hypospray each, and call me in the morning.
Hopper was already nearly out the door. She waved urgently at Richards to follow her.
Richards: Response?
((10 Minutes Later — Type-11 Shuttle, Vermillion))
The shuttle viewscreen was a field of purple and black – the bright gasses of the nebula in the background and the looming shadowed silhouettes of the asteroid and its numerous cousins. Ahead of them, the mining rig cast its own dim lights into the surrounding darkness – flickering viewports and flames struggling against the rig’s internal containment systems to stay lit, visible through the cracks in its outer walls.
Flint: Beautiful… ::Turning to the others:: In a dark and sinister kind of way.
Hopper hadn’t really had much occasion to speak with the XB helm officer since arriving on Amity. In fact, the man seemed to avoid social events and interactions. She wondered if his musings now were a way of managing stress. She decided it was probably better to support that connection than shut it down – even if she personally found the sight more haunting than beautiful.
Hopper: It’s certainly convincing… They’ve done a good job simulating the damage and conditions… Of course, we may need to exercise our imaginations a little more when we arrive – but remember, we should treat this with total sincerity. Speaking of which…
She turned from the helmsman at the conn to Richards, seated at tactical, to his right.
Hopper: I’m sure those delta waves are testing your power distribution skills. How are the shields holding?
Richards: Response
Hopper: Redirect everything you can to forward shielding for now… Anything usable on sensors now that we’re getting in close? Life signs? The closer we get the tighter the radiation bands – worse if we get in their way, but you should be seeing reduced interference.
Richards: Response
Hopper nodded, looking back down to her own console. They were beginning to experience intermittent connectivity issues back to the Jemison, which concerned her. When they’d arrived and attempted to hail the rig, she had hoped their communications array was damaged or malfunctioning…
Hopper: ::Sigh:: It seems like the benamite reaction is generating a dampening field around the asteroid – creating a screen that our signals, comms, transporters, are going to have trouble getting through. Lieutenant Richards, any ideas for boosting reception on our end or the Jemison’s?
Richards: Response
((OOC – Can backsim here a bit as needed; Feel free to tag the Jemison via comms as well))
The dark asteroid and flickering lights of the mining rig now filled the entire viewscreen – the purple nebula no longer visible.
Flint: We’re getting close now, ma’am. Scanning for a suitable docking platform now. You might want to grab your kits and prepare for drop off.
Richards: Response
Hopper made her way to the back of the shuttle, nodding at Richards to do the same, picking up a helmet and locking it into place atop her EVA suit. The internal illumination indicated a proper seal. Next, she took a Type II Aquila phaser from the small onboard armory, and clipped it to her hip opposite the tricorder.
The shuttle, meanwhile, closed the remaining distance and began docking with the mining rig. Several beeps emanated from the conn.
Flint: ::Glancing at his console:: Looks like the Halsey’s sending us some support. I’ll clear the docking ring as soon as you and Richards exit the shuttle, let them join you.
Hopper: Sounds good – but don’t get too far. We need to maintain communications at least with you. This is our only ride out of here.
Flint: Aye.
Richards: Response
((OOC – For the inbound Halsey members, feel free to tag us whenever you want!))
TBC
