Commander Jo Marshall - lujwI'pu' vIneHbe'
Jo Marshall
((Dopterian Cargo Ship, Dockyards, Orbital Ring))
The lights, what remained of them anyway, flickered once, then again. Longer this time, as if the ship had processed it had died and this was the final, quivering exhale. The corridor outside rattled with a metallic clang. Heavy steps of boots in an echo chamber. More than one by the sound of it. Jo froze, glancing at Vylaa, her hand reaching for her holstered phaser. If they’d dragged this man out of danger only to be ambushed in a half-collapsed room, they’d be easy prey.
Luckily, Lieutenant JG Xandria Cain swept in, and relief hit Jo like fresh air after smoke. She let out a breath, shoulders sinking, the knot between her ribs loosened just a little.
zh’Tisav: Gods, Cain! I almost shot you!
Cain: But you didn’t.
Marshall: Deyari made it out in one piece, then.
The blonde—Cain, not Jo—nodded, and slipped through the doorway into the workspace. Despite their current situation, it was hard not to be a little thankful Delari had managed to get back to the torus without incident, and called in for backup.
zh’Tisav: And it wasn't 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?
Catching the meaning well enough, Jo exhaled an amused huff through her nose as Vylaa caught Cain up.
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: That's what I was worried about. We've heard the noises, sounds like it's got worse since we came through.
Vylaa wasted no time in approaching one of the wall panels, and pulled it clean from the wall with the ease Andorians and Vulcans did. Gravity and muscle soreness seemed like they were merely suggestions to both species. Scanning the panel, Jo roughly determined it would fit the Dopterian's stature, enough to keep them stable while they manoeuvred him through the ship. Vylaa laid the panel on the floor.
zh’Tisav: 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: Definitely. Get what you can. Anything will help at this rate.
If there was any reservation left about tearing up the place, it hadn't possessed Vylaa. Cables were one thing, shifting the rest of the debris so they had at least a clear exit out of the workspace and into the corridor was another. Pressing a quick dose of hypospray pain reliever into the side of their Dopterian's neck, Jo left him where he was to help Cain shift the detritus.
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: Locals will be inundated with the crash and fire casualties. It'll have to be the Gorkon for now until we know what state their hospital is in.
zh’Tisav: Response
The sssshhhht and ccccrunk sounds of a broken workstation being shoved out of snagging range filled the air as Cain did her best to make way. Around them, the ship continued to groan and stretch, straining the structural frame like a child's bones growing, and Jo could picture those stress fractures forming like spider webs. Time wasn't on their side.
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: We might be able to, ::said as she shifted a broken panel to the side,:: if we can find some pattern enhancers. Or figure out what's causing the signal jam.
zh’Tisav: Response
Marshall: Probably ionised plasma and particulate soup. When the EPS conduits rupture, they dump ionised plasma, which just scatters electromagnetic hash into the atmosphere, trashing the annular confinement beam's signal to noise ratio.
While the engineer in her knew she was right, the Operations chief concurring with the analysis of the noise she'd seen on the tricorder, she wasn't the Engineering Specialist in the room, so she glanced to Vylaa to either correct or add to.
zh’Tisav / Cain: Response
Marshall: We can't exactly vent the decks or run the scrubbers either, in case there's more like him waiting to be found. ::She gestured to the Dopterian on the floor, then chewed her lip in thought.:: I mean, we could go with the old school way. If we can find some pattern enhancers, we might be able to create a stabilised pocket.
zh’Tisav / Cain: Response