LTJG Lhandon Joseph Nilsen - Connecting…
Lhandon Nilsen
((Operations Center - Lower Level, Deck 7, USS Octavia E Butler))
The thought, "It could be going worse," had been plaguing Lhandon for several hours. While Lt Arlill had been on the surface of Cheyd'lang, behaving somewhat recklessly (which made his adopted little brother quite proud), Nilsen had found himself running the OC in Toxin's absence.
There had been a mission to pick up the SARS team in the works, and things had been smoothed over with certain elements of the Cheyd government to ensure their safety.
This meant that soon Lhando could return to being Toxin's right-hand man. That's not to say Lhandon wasn't ambitious, far from it; his conversations with Salo had given him much to ponder, especially concerning his future career. But whether he knew it or not, Lhando wasn't quite ready yet. And this position, next to Toxin, for now, suited him.
The operations department had been particularly busy during this time. It seemed like they were on a tour of the gamma quadrant, dropping off various evacuating refugees at safe harbors. With each stop made, the strain on operations became lighter and lighter. Lhandon had been proud of what his small department had accomplished.
They were nearly there, and Lhandon's time covering for Toxin's absence was almost over. He partly hoped that this would continue to demonstrate to Commander Etan that he could be trusted again. He still remembered that scolding, and he still despised the smell of Deka Tea. But he had learned in the last mission that the commander didn't hate him…which was a win
One morning, he entered the OC as usual, preparing to start his shift. The usual hustle and bustle of the OC was absent. Instead, there was a hushed sense of dread in the air. All of the operations staff were gathered around one terminal, not at the large table in the middle, but rather one of the smaller ones off to the side. It seemed as if a member of the operations staff had spotted something and called the entire department over.
Lhandon saw the looks on their faces. Instead of calling out, he walked over to them to see what they were so worried about. He made his way through the small crowd of about 15 people who were looking at the terminal. He placed his hand on the shoulder of one person and, as a polite excuse, they made space. For a moment, Lhandon had stopped breathing. His eyes focused on the screen, his mouth suddenly dry. His jaw opened ever so slightly.
Something big had happened on Earth but the details were sketchy, the words “Earth Space Dock holding” were seen. Words which are never good to see. There was a mention of ships turning on each other, or ships turning and pointing at Earth or something that he couldn’t make heads or tails off.
However, with the time it took for news to reach the Gamma Quadrant, even with the improved Uhura communication array, the events that the OPS crew had witnessed had already come and gone. The fate of Earth unknown.
Then an awkward silence fell. The reports ended. No words came to anyone, but eyes looked up and fell upon Lhandon.
Lhandon's thoughts were divided. He’s not from Earth but felt the shock alongside everyone else. The second was about his younger sister, Isabella. She wanted to be just like her brother, Lhandon, and was halfway through her second year at the Academy.
As those eyes looked up at him, the eyes of ensigns and petty officers, he felt the need to offer words but none came to him. What does one even say in a situation like this?
And what had there been to do in OPS that day? Normally, he would have had a list in his mind and some tasks in his pad. But his head was empty.
He eventually found some words after what felt like an eternity. It was the one thing he had wanted to do at that moment.
Nilsen: Take ten, call who you need to. Let yourself in the side rooms if you need it.
He didn’t have any grand speech like Picard, nor could he rally the troops like Sisko, or inspire them like Janeway.
The crowd had slowly dispersed. Some had headed off to make calls, others just hung around. He wished so hard that he could call Isabella.
He couldn’t, the Sol system is too far away from subspace communication, but there was one person he could call.
Connecting…
He stared at the screen, willing for Madison to have some news of her, safe and sound.
Connecting…
o0 Come on 0o
Connecting…
His eyes had looked up for a brief moment and he had surveyed the OC around him. Unconsciously hoping that if he didn't stare at the PADD, then it might just connect.
Connecting…
He went to his usual spot in the center of the OC and put the PADD on the table. "Maybe she got out? Maybe she wasn't there? That must be it, right? She'll be off-planet, making some engine go fast or improving the flow from one complicated part to another on some warp engine held together with 21st-century duct tape," he thought.
He had forgotten what station time DS9 was running on. Did all of Starfleet stay synced? That was something he should have known. It was a normal operations question. If he couldn't remember, he couldn't recall. Were they running on Bajor time instead? Would he have been calling at the equivalent of 3am?
The connection was successful, his younger brother Madison, the twin of Isabella, answered.
Nilsen: Mads? You heard?
End scene
Lieutenant JG Lhandon Joseph Nilsen
HCO & Acting Asst. Chief
USS Octavia E Butler
O240007LN1
He/Him/His (Both player and character)