Lt. JG Xandria Cain - Rescue Squad
Tahna Meru
((Dopterian Cargo Ship, Dockyards, Orbital Ring))
The orbital ring was a wreck by the time Xandria Cain arrived. She’d beamed over as close to the Dopterian ship as possible, then argued her way through a few Klingon security personnel who were blocking off the crash site. She had a suspicion it wasn’t her status in Starfleet that convinced them to let her through so much as the House Khedri d’k tahg she wore and the choice insults she’d offered them.
Then there was the ship itself, mangled, trashed, a hazard to climb through. The fires weren’t even entirely out yet. And the bodies…so many people already beyond help. But she wasn’t alone; she heard Commander Marshall and Lieutenant zh’Tisav before she saw them, their voices carrying through a pried-open door.
Cain: It’s Cain, don’t shoot.
The blonde peered through the door. She watched zh’Tisav’s phaser jerk away from the space her own head now occupied. Precisely why she’d identified herself first.
zh’Tisav: Gods, Cain! I almost shot you!
Cain: But you didn’t.
Marshall: Deyari made it out in one piece, then.
Xandria nodded, slipping through the door and into the workspace with the other officers. The Ensign had made it out and was making herself useful elsewhere—the docking ring was in crisis, there was plenty of work to go around.
zh’Tisav: And it wasn’t not too hard to get in? I’d have thought this ship would be locked down by now.
Cain: It is locked down. ::A sly smile played at the corners of her mouth.:: What’s the situation?
zh’Tisav: So far all we’ve found is our friend there, and he’s in no condition to talk… Or walk.
Cain: There’s a whole lot of debris between him and transporter range.
Marshall: Response
Lieutenant zh’Tisav approached one of the wall panels and pulled it free with considerable ease. Xandria wondered if that was due to the ongoing structural failure of the ship, or if it hadn’t been well put together in the first place. Didn’t matter either way right now, though if the latter was true, she wondered how many of the Dopterians currently dead outside this room might have survived under other circumstances. Damned shame, that’s what it was, to put it lightly.
zh’Tisav: ::Laying the panel on the floor.:: If I can salvage some cables we can pull him to transporter range. That’s probably safer than carrying him over uneven deckplates.
Cain: Got it.
Marshall: Response
zh’Tisav seemed to have the cable situation under control, though Xandria was more than happy to lend a hand tearing up the ship further if she needed it. For now, she settled for moving debris out of their path.
zh’Tisav: Are we taking him to the Gorkon or the local doctors?
Cain: Gorkon’s gotten a lot of sickbay traffic lately, but she’s probably still less overwhelmed than the locals.
Marshall / zh’Tisav: Response
Xandria shoved sections of a broken workstation out of the way, off to the side. She returned to the center, brows knitted, hands on her hips, quietly assessing the room as the dead ship groaned around them. Surely more than one Dopterian had survived, out of this entire crew. Surely.
Cain: Structural integrity is only going to get worse. If there are any other survivors, we may need a faster solution than dragging them out. Is it not possible to increase transporter range?
Marshall / zh’Tisav: Response