Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds - Rogue World
Quinn Reynolds
((Outer Hull, Saucer Section, USS Gorkon))
The celebrations and festivities continued, couples and friends sharing a dance, the buffet table almost depleted. Quinn lurked on the edges, accompanied by her husband and fellow commanding officer. Stomachs comfortably full of delicious food, each with a drink in their hand, the pair sat at a table in muted conversation. Ice cubes swam in a shallow sea of whiskey, clinking together as the German swirled his glass, shaking his head at his wife.
Brunsig: ...isn’t an obligation, Quinn. Just because you were—
The dark sky exploded in light and sundered the rest of his words. Diamond white flooded her vision, washed with watercolour ribbons of indigo and azure. So brilliant it hurt, and she squeezed her eyes shut, shielding them with her arm. It only lasted a handful of seconds, and then it was gone, space seeming even blacker than before in the absence of that luminous glow.
And there, born out of nowhere and nothing, was an entire world, basking in the radiance of binary suns. Bands of turquoise and cobalt clouds brought to mind ink swirling in water, and concealed the surface from the naked eye. It was beautiful, but Quinn’s heart was already thudding inside her chest. Though the planets and moons of the system looked stationary from their vantage point, she knew that already their delicate interstellar dance was being disrupted, gravities already marching to war.
Brunsig: Scheiße.
Reynolds: My sentiments exactly.
Her combadge chirped, one of a twittering flock. Junior officers from across the ship hailing their peers and superiors as they reacted to the abrupt arrival of an entire planet. No doubt a scenario echoing across the entire system, sensors lighting up and alarms screeching in Tyrellian listening posts, scientific installations, and traffic control networks. Was there even an alert or error code for “suddenly, a rogue planet”?
Nkai: =/\= Bridge to Admiral Reynolds. =/\=
Reynolds: I see it. ::She blinked, trying to clear the neon afterimages from her vision.:: We all see it.
Nkai: =/\= Yeah, it’s hard to miss. ::He paused for a few moments, then continued.:: It’s, uh... It’s worse than it looks, sir. The planet is on a direct collision course with Palanon. And we’re picking up an old Starfleet distress beacon from the surface. =/\=
She was already in motion, casting a sidelong glance at Walter. He, too, was in conversation with the crew of his ship, the Triumphant staff reporting much the same to their captain. No doubt by the time she made it to the bridge, there would be a queue of incoming calls—from the Tyrellians, from Starfleet, from the ships and installations around the system—all trying to determine their next steps.
She hadn’t a clue what they might be.
((A Short While Later: Bridge))
The planet she had seen with her own eyes now hung, suspended against the stars, on the main viewscreen. Magnified into sharp definition, she stared at the nexus of their current crisis. An entire solar system of sensors were focused on the planet, with almost nothing to show for it. A few scraps of information here and there, faded whispers of truth, but the rogue planet kept its secrets close.
Death, shrouded in a veil of beauty and mystery.
Then the image shifted, the operations officer responding to her order. A small white speck on the viewscreen snapped larger, one of the ship’s Yellowstone-class runabouts. The name USS Kerla was emblazoned on its side, and in her mind’s eye, she could see the occupants sitting in its cockpit.
Reynolds: =/\= Reynolds to USS Kerla. Our sensors have you on final approach to the signal. How are things looking? =/\=
O. Marshall/Fortune/zh’Tisav: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= We have some more information for you. The signal looks to be an old repeating beacon, about twenty-five years old. ::Her brows drew into a frown.:: It’s from a division which went missing during the Dominion War. =/\=
A simple fact. One which introduced layers of complexity she could hardly imagine. Were there still people alive down there, after twenty-five years? Had it been twenty-five years for them? And how in the hell had the division—not to mention an entire planet—ended up on the other side of the Federation from the Cardassian border?
O. Marshall/Fortune/zh’Tisav: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= There’s nothing in the atmosphere which should impede sensors or communications, but something is. It’s possible there’s some kind of active jamming in situ. And I don’t think I need to tell you it would be very unlikely that Starfleet would try to jam their own signal. =/\=
O. Marshall/Fortune/zh’Tisav: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= Let us know if you need anything. ::She paused.:: And watch your backs. Gorkon out. =/\=
The channel closed, and Quinn sat for a few moments, her frown deepening. It was possible there were Starfleet officers down there who needed rescue. It was also possible that it was nothing more than a massive graveyard, a decades-old monument to the fallen. Nor could she dismiss the niggling worry that something sinister lay in wait. But they had an obligation to investigate, and she knew she could rely on the team, whatever they found down there.
With a small nod to the operations officer, she opened a channel to the second of their away teams. As well as the faint transmissions from a Starfleet beacon, they had also detected entirely alien signals. A hint that there was sentient life, or had been sentient life, somewhere on the planet.
Reynolds: =/\= Reynolds to USS Kahnrah. =/\=
Neathler/Stoyer/Tagren-Quinn/Asra: =/\= Response =/\=
The screen shifted from one Yellowstone-class to another, though like the Kerla, swirling clouds of aqua acted as a backdrop. A pearl among the frothing tide.
Reynolds: =/\= Any sign of civilisation yet? =/\=
Neathler/Stoyer/Tagren-Quinn/Asra: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= It’s important we find them, or whatever’s left of them. Beyond the fact they might have answers we need, if there’s a living population that changes our options for diverting the planet. =/\=
Neathler/Stoyer/Tagren-Quinn/Asra: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= Keep us updated as best you can. Gorkon out. =/\=
That was the last of the teams headed toward the planet. As ever, she felt a churning in the pit of her stomach, a worry for the people venturing into the unknown. All she could do was all she could ever do; trust in their skills and judgement, and hope the universe rolled its dice in their favour. She took a deep breath to calm the tremors in her veins, and turned to look toward the remaining senior officers on the bridge.
Faces familiar and new. Sevo, who had been there since the start. Tahna, who had come aboard nearly two years ago, and had gone from strength to strength since those days as an ensign. Sirin, who Quinn had met in a nightmare just a few weeks ago. All clever and capable, and up to the mind-bending task ahead of them. Heading up to the rear of the bridge, and the science stations located there, she lifted her eyebrows in question.
Reynolds: How are we all feeling? It’s not every day you see a planet appear from nowhere.
Sevo/Sirin/Tahna: Response
Reynolds: All right. While our teams explore the planet, we need to learn where it came from, and how it got here, and use that to figure out how to put it somewhere safe. ::She shook her head, her tone wry.:: Simple as that.
Sevo/Sirin/Tahna: Response
Standing in front of a science console, she tapped at the blue-green controls with her skinny, bird-thin fingers. Reams of data filled the screens, the display hinting at kiloquads more in reserve. Information from across the sensor spectrum, lines curving and twisting across graphs, raw numbers scrolling impossibly fast. A wealth of information, though whether that translated into useful answers remained to be seen.
Reynolds: We have sensor data from the Gorkon, the Triumphant, the Resolute, Iana Station, the observatory on Tyrellia, and the Tyrellian defence grid. Those are probably the highest quality sources, but the Tyrellians have sent us everything they have from their other ground-based facilities, and many of the ships docked or passing through have sent us their sensor logs as well.
Sevo/Sirin/Tahna: Response
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
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