[JP] Marshall & Reynolds - The Only Way Is Up (Part II)
Jo Marshall
((Observation Post, Maintenance Area, Cardassian Prison))
Marshall: Nothing a close encounter with sunlight and a shower won’t fix. ::She glanced up, countering with a flick of an eyebrow and a slightly forced smile.:: Let’s get them out and we can commiserate in brandy then.
Quinn hesitated for a moment as if there was something more she wanted to say. And there were; so many things, of friendships and family and the unspoken truths of the past. But it wasn’t the right moment. Or maybe it was? Either way, it was all too complicated; secrets she barely had the words for at the best of times, their situation adding friction to every thought and feeling.
Reynolds: That sounds good to me.
Her grin was thin and threadbare, not daring to invest too much in hope. It fell away as she peered inside the guts of the console, her hazel eyes tracing across the aged Cardassian technology. Power, but no response to input.
Reynolds: The command processors aren’t receiving a signal. Can you switch the ODN relays, see if we can push it through the secondaries?
Marshall: If I can see the trunks…
Frowning, Jo tried to see inside the panel where the technologies interlaced. Thinking a little quickly, she rubbed the panel cover with the bottom of her shirt and used it at the right angle to shine refracted green light into the guts. Reaching in, she flipped the relays with the press of a few controls, switching the ODN trunks to the hardlines.
Marshall: Give it another try.
Reynolds: One second—
At the touch of her hand, the console lit up in the Cardassians favoured colours of umber and teal, a vibrant splash of colour in the dour and grim prison. Quinn frowned as she worked, fingers playing over the controls as the workstation spat out deep trills and frazzled chirps in response to being brought back to life.
Reynolds: It’s working, but the data’s corrupted. ::She sighed and shook her head.:: There might be enough to work with.
Marshall: It’s a security measure. Scrambles up databanks if facilities are separated from the Union for too long.
Said as she used the console edge to get back onto her feet; imprisonment hadn’t agreed with her limbs aching in novel ways. They’d come across enough abandoned places in their time, enough outposts with useful if garbled information available, and derelict starships floating through space.
Even then, the surrounding emergency lights seemed to flicker and dim, as though something pulled power away in increments. Casting a glance filled with concern to Quinn, Jo exhaled a long, resigned sigh.
Marshall: We might not have a lot of time. Who knows what alarms we tripped getting out of there.
Reynolds: Alarms in a facility that’s been so long disconnected from the Union, the security protocols have kicked in. ::It wasn’t a question or a contradiction, but an observation made without filter.:: There’s something not right here. I keep trying to add two plus two and getting forty-seven.
Marshall: I know what you mean. Automated defences is one thing, but to abandon us here? What if we do this? What if we take over the facility like this? Get out onto the surface? Get a message out?
Resembling a tightly coiled spring, the blonde chewed on her lips. Impatience and frustration given physical form, her leg vibrated so much it made the tools in the knapsack on her back rattle. Something wasn’t right. They were there, living the hypothetical scenario, and she’d never forgive herself if they left everyone else there to die.
Marshall: We can’t leave here without trying to get the power back on, and that means finding what passes for an Engineering section.
Quinn nodded. What she’d done with the relays hadn’t affected the power beyond the door. Something else was going on behind the scenes, some other reason they could barely see in front of their faces, and why the dim green of emergency lighting painted shadows and ghosts into every corner.
Reynolds: So we send someone here—::she pointed to a section on the unlabelled glowing schematic,::—to see what they can get out of the sensors and whether we can get a message out. And then someone else here—::she pointed to another section::—to get the power back on.
Marshall: And we find some way to get off the rock. ::Her hand found the back of her neck as her lips pulled to the side.:: If it even is a rock. Is there a front door on this thing?
Reynolds: I don’t know, we don’t have the whole thing. But this—::she gestured to another section of the teal outline::—looks like some kind of docking or landing space. It’s big and directly connected to what seems to be cargo areas.
The lines on the schematic blurred into one for a split second, merging and converging on one another, until Jo blinked away the haziness. Toxicity in the air, making her mind go before her lungs. Just that lucky. She dropped a fingertip onto the schematic and followed Quinn’s indicated areas — easier to focus on a finger than bleary lines of Cardassian teal.
Marshall: We’ll go there, see if we can get something working if there is anything left there to get working. Set up a triage with ‘Kos, raid the cargo bays with Serren....
Quinn levelled a long gaze at her, on the verge of asking again if she was all right. But what was the point? The answer was no, even if Jo said it was yes, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. When the very air they breathed was poison, stopping to recuperate solved nothing.
Reynolds: Then we’ve got a plan. I say we have a quick rifle through this post, see if we can find anything useful and head down.
Marshall: There’ll be something we can scavenge.
A medical kit baked into the walls, or an emergency weapon hidden beneath the consoles, maybe. If it acted as a guard post, even for a short time, something would remain behind. Despite her anxiety to get moving again, driving into the balls of her feet, Jo glanced over to Quinn, ignoring freckles, seeing a friend.
Marshall: I’m glad you didn’t die.
Reynolds: Well. ::She quirked an eyebrow.:: There’s still time.
She said it with a small, dark smile and a wry twist of humour, and then dropped her gaze a moment, nodding. A sentiment that cushioned her heart in velvet, a sensation long missed in the prison—and to an extent, in the Maquis itself. The cynical edge of her smile blunted, and she looked back up to the blonde, her hazel eyes soft.
Reynolds: Thank you. For what you did. ::She paused, then added.:: For everything.
Everything was a lot to be thankful for. They were still there, still breathing—albeit toxic air trying to kill them—and despite the efforts of an elderly Cardassian statesman, the hybrid was still alive. The quiet stretched for a moment longer as Jo found a twitch of a smile, with a soft and lazy quirk of her head.
Marshall: Don’t thank me just yet. There’s still time.
Quinn answered with a huff of a laugh and grin, patting her friend on the shoulder, the touch lingering just long enough to finish with a fond squeeze. With a jerk of her head, she indicated the lockers and cabinets embedded in the walls and underneath consoles.
Reynolds: Let’s not waste any more.
fin... for now.
--
Quinn “Shades” Reynolds
Chief Engineer
Skarbek
T238401QR0
&
Jo “Blondie” Marshall
Cell Second
Skarbek
G239304JM0
