Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds - One Is the Loneliest Number
Quinn Reynolds
((Vermillion Wastes, Gateside Dimension))
They had found the power source for the gate: a massive, hundred-metre tall tree. Almost as soon as they had begun theorising how to power it down—if that was even the term—vines had sprung out of the ground and wrapped around the lower part of the trunk. A defensive measure, it seemed, though evidently from the more hostile part of the dimension that wanted to continue its encroachment into theirs.
Quinn crouched down, considering the vine-wrapped tree, the medkit, and the other equipment they'd brought with them. If someone had suggested they might need a cooling bomb when they were equipment planning, she would have gently laughed at them. And yet, here they were. Trying to convince a massive tree that winter was coming, in a realm that might well have no such thing as seasons.
Reynolds: I don't think we could make a large explosion, not without introducing too much heat. But we might not have to. If we're clever with our placement, and use the subspace generator well, we could amplify the cooling effect from a relatively small reaction.
Valek: ::He moved closer to the tree and roots, and spoke over his shoulder.:: We must ensure the roots surrounding the tree are bypassed.
Spelvan: Hm. This appears to be a plausible plan after all.
While Valek walked the perimeter of the tree, Spelvan got back to his feet, looking satisfied with the current state of affairs. It felt like progress, and Quinn allowed herself to entertain a little optimism. Only a little. Life had a way of finding complications at the worst possible moments, after all.
Valek: Admiral, Ensign, I have identified two possible locations suitable for the procedure.
Spelvan: ::He nodded gratefully,:: Thank you, Ensign.
Reynolds: Show us.
Valek took another circuit around the tree, pointing out the two spots he had located. They weren't large, but that wasn't necessary for their plan. As long as they could fit their little chemical bomb inside, it would be enough. She almost shook her head at the thought; out of context, it sounded perfectly ridiculous and a little alarming.
Valek: ::He pointed to the two openings:: These locations provide sufficient clearance for the procedure. I can begin calibrating the phaser rifle on your command Admiral.
Spelvan: Good. Then the Admiral and I can start working on the endothermic device imminently.
Valek: Agreed.
Reynolds: Let's crack on, then.
It was something close to relief to tackle a problem with known parameters. Chemical interactions, component specifications and tolerances, and all the other numbers checked in a lab, tested in the field, and recorded in manuals. Explaining to a doctor how to build a bomb was definitely not one of the stranger things she'd ever done, and Spelvan proved to be a quick learner and deft at anticipating the next step. In another time and place, she might even have enjoyed the process.
While they worked, Valek sat nearby, phaser rifle on his lap and a small maintenance kit to hand. With the casing off, he worked on the emitter array, making the adjustments he required.
Spelvan: The only remaining component is to set the timer to detonation. How long do you think we will need to get away safely?
In Spelvan's hands was the fruit of their labours; the endothermic device. Around them, the remains of the cardiostimulator and subspace generator cannibalised for parts. Valek replaced the rifle casing, his work done, and looked toward them as he stood. Quinn grimaced, covering the expression with a shift of her body, planting her hands and getting back to her feet. She had heard the question under the question, and the answer was plain: she could not move as fast as either of the two Vulcans.
Valek: Unknown, Ensign. The Admiral may be better positioned to estimate the required timeframe. However, it would be logical for one of us to perform the task while the Admiral maintains a safe distance.
Reynolds: Much as I hate to admit it, you're right. I'd only slow you down.
Spelvan: I can drop the device, Admiral, and give you more time to take cover.
Valek: That is a logical choice. I will remain with the Admiral and maintain security.
The desire to walk back on her compliance surged, but she had no good reason beyond a quiet hatred for stepping away from someone she was responsible for. With a glance down at his phaser rifle, Valek moved to the spot he had pointed out earlier.
Valek: Admiral, Ensign, The phaser rifle has been modified with a low yield beam. I am ready to discharge at this location. ::He used the rifle muzzle to point to the opening.::
Reynolds: No time like the present.
Spelvan: Response
Valek: Collateral damage should be minimal. I recommend you maintain a safe distance until the procedure is complete.
He lifted the rifle and stepped forward, thumbing over the trigger. There wasn't much to see or hear; the molten beam of the phaser's discharge, the steady whine as power cycled through the emitter arrays. The edges of the burr hole glittered in gold and ruby before they cooled in a perfect circle. To Quinn's quiet surprise and relief, there was no reaction from the vines, the tree, or the surrounding landscape.
The entire process took half a minute. When he was finished, Valek stepped forward again to inspect his handiwork, then turned toward Quinn and Spelvan.
Valek: Excavation complete. The opening is sufficient to accommodate the device. I estimate the tunnel extends approximately fifty meters beneath the tree’s root structure.
Reynolds: I'll back up. ::She paused, considering for a moment.:: I won't go far. I haven't noticed many changes in the landscape since we arrived here, but I'd rather not take my chances.
Spelvan / Valek: Response
Quinn paused before she moved, reluctance pulling at her feet like an anchor. There was a small tightening around her mouth, the rest of her face carefully schooled into neutrality. She hated the idea of leaving Spelvan there, on his own. He was a doctor, not a munitions specialist, and he was handling a device he helped to build but was far from an expert in.
Reynolds: Give yourself a healthy margin of error, Spelvan. There's no need to cut it close.
Spelvan / Valek: Response
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0