V. Admiral Quinn Reynolds - Where the Stars are Scattered Thinly
Quinn Reynolds
((Ready Room, USS Gorkon))
Stars glittered in the void, unmoving and still, like teardrops frozen in time. Quinn stood in front of the ready room window, arms crossed, staring past her worried reflection and out into space. Hazel eyes searched for something she knew she couldn’t see; a tiny ship in a big universe, calling out for help. She frowned, bony fingers digging into skinny biceps, hard enough to hurt. The pain gave her something else to concentrate on.
Reynolds: =/\= Gorkon to Kahnrah. =/\=
Alieth/O. Marshall/Stoyer/Lephi:: =/\= Response =/\=
The signal sounded as though it had been chewed up and spat out by an industrial blender, crackling and robotic. Much as the Triumphant’s distress call had been, with Walter’s authoritative baritone sounding more like an ancient text-to-speech program as delivered by a pneumatic drill. He’d spoken of being unable to establish a warp bubble, sensors barely any use, power draining as though they had sprung a slow leak.
And after rushing to the rescue, the Gorkon was experiencing the same damned thing, without even laying eyes on the tough little Defiant-class.
Reynolds: =/\= What’s your status? =/\=
Alieth: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= Any sign of the Triumphant so far? Or the Sasu Gol?=/\=
The Gorkon’s powerful sensors were proving to be a liability in this region of space. It was like shining a fog lamp into a house of mirrors, stripping the world of detail and form and filling it with distorted echoes. The Kahnrah—less potent in all respects, and so far unaffected by the power drain—was able to minimise the sensor echoes with short range scans and operate without fear of draining power faster.
Alieth/O. Marshall/Stoyer/Lephi:: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= All right. But I want you to head back if the Kahnrah starts showing any signs of losing power. I don’t want to risk losing you out there. =/\=
Alieth/O. Marshall/Stoyer/Lephi:: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= Keep me updated. Gorkon out. =/\=
She rubbed a hand across her face, fingers landing on the bridge of her nose and pinching. Worry was always a factor when one’s partner was in Starfleet, out of sight never meant out of mind, and every terrible scenario ran through her mind. As hard as she tried to keep a lid on it, fear had sunk its claws into her soul, tearing through her usual schooled dispassion.
And that was before she thought about her children.
Work. Focus on work. It was the only way forward.
Reynolds: =/\= Reynolds to cargo bay. Is the pod secured? =/\=
Neathler/Tahna/Tan: =/\= Response =/\=
A little while ago, they had stumbled upon an escape pod with a sole survivor. A puzzle by itself; the pod clearly belonging to the civilian transport Sasu Gol, but the occupant a Starfleet ensign. The young man had been covered in blood and out of his mind, unable or unwilling to answer any questions. After seeing him whisked off to sickbay, she had assigned a team to the pod itself, seeing what answers they could glean from it.
Reynolds: =/\= We’re operating with a severe lack of information here, so anything you can find might help. ::She paused.:: Or can’t find. Sometimes what’s missing tells you more than what’s there. =/\=
Neathler/Tahna/Tan: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= Sickbay hasn’t got any more news about our newest guest. You should probably work under the assumption he’s not going to be able to help for a while. If at all. =/\=
Neathler/Tahna/Tan: =/\= Response =/\=
Reynolds: =/\= Let me know if you need anything else. Reynolds out. =/\=
Reports delivered, the hybrid unfolded her arms and pushed herself up. A footstep took her forward, and then she paused, taking a breath and trying to still the churning in her gut. It wouldn’t do to appear rattled to her crew, whether they would sympathise with her reasons or not, and she needed to present cool professionalism in the face of a looming crisis.
Jo had certainly chosen the right moment to take some personal time. Wherever she was right now, Quinn wished she was there, too.
((Bridge))
Her calm collected, or at least a reasonable facsimile presented, Quinn stepped back out onto the bridge. The bridge was quiet, a thread of tension woven into its usual fabric, stations manned by people with intense eyes and frowns of concentration. Good officers—clever, brave, innovative—stood in front of her, and she was quiet to tell them what news she had.
Such as it was.
Reynolds: The Kahnrah is still working their search pattern, and the cargo bay team have started digging into the pod. ::She nodded. A concise report, but there was little more to add right now.:: In the meantime, we should concentrate on finding a way out of this... rift. What do we know so far?
ch’Ranni/Sevo/sh’Qynallahr: Response
She nodded, folding her arms as she looked across to the viewscreen. It afforded no more insight or information than the view from her ready room window, nothing more than a vast expanse of pinpoint stars. Distant suns burning in the black, and somewhere between them, two starships begging for aid.
It was all she could do to root herself to the spot and resist temptation. No one would appreciate it if she bodily hauled the helmsman out of his chair, and flew the Gorkon out to find the missing Defiant-class.
Reynolds: My guess that it’s expanding, somehow. Our engines were disabled before we got eyes on the Triumphant. If the borders were static, I’d expect to have landed on top of them. ::She frowned.:: And when we tried retracing our route at full impulse, we still couldn’t establish a warp bubble, so it’s a fair guess it’s expanding close to or past the speed of light.
ch’Ranni/Sevo/sh’Qynallahr: Response
Reynolds: Well, we need to figure something out soon. If we take too long, it won’t matter if we find a way to go to warp, we won’t have the power to do it.
ch’Ranni/Sevo/sh’Qynallahr: Response
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
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