Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds - The Sword of Borgocles
Quinn Reynolds
((Ready Room, USS Gorkon))
The confessional was over, and some of the weight had lifted from Quinn’s shoulders. She hadn’t expected her friend to be appalled or disgusted by her revelation—but there was always that tiny seed of fear, waiting to blossom. Thankfully, it remained in hibernation, Jo’s support instant and unquestioning. It was perhaps inevitable the conversation would turn to their current situation, and how they’d manage their resources. It was harder to think of much else when the sword of Damocles hung over your head.
The Gorkon had been a newer ship back when they first had to survive on their own. Since then, they’d upgraded and evolved; beyond the obvious technical advances like the Warp XV drive, they had more holistic support for the crew. Even if the crew had to eat rations most of the time, this time there were means to offer small indulgences every once in a while; fresh food and drink. With a faint smile, she uncurled a finger from her mug and pointed toward Jo’s.
Reynolds: At least we have the Brew Continuum growing its own tea and coffee this time around.
Marshall: Small mercies. We learned that lesson the hard way. They can take the armour. They can take our ability to have regular showers. But leave the coffee.
Quinn smiled, exhaling a small puff of air that was almost a laugh. Food, fluids, air, and a roasted source of caffeine. All the essentials, though she knew there were some—their chief engineer, for example—who’d happily live without the latter.
Marshall: Look, Quinn, you know if something happens to me while we're here, ::her lips twitched to the side, her blue eyes dropping to the cup in her hands,:: just look after Caedan and Erin for me? Caedan's… probably going to be reeling from all this as it is, and Erin, well…
Quinn drew in a deep breath, her gaze dropping slightly. It was bad enough that Nkai had suffered through their time in an alternate universe, with all the hurt and loss which had accompanied it. But he was also a survivor of Wolf 359, and intimately familiar with the damage and misery the Borg could inflict. She imagined the heart had dropped out of him when he realised what had happened.
And Erin... Well. Her entire life had been a horror story, not to put too fine a point on it. A bitter Dominion cupcake, with Skarbek icing and now Borg sprinkles. But somehow she got through it, and with or without help, Quinn suspected she’d manage this as well.
Reynolds: I will, if it’s needed. But it’s a little too early to be charting out your demise.
Marshall: I know, I know, I—
The blonde shook her head, heart obviously heavy, and looked out of the ready room window. Something captured her attention, her brows pulling together in a frown, and Quinn followed the direction of her gaze. Something twinkled between the streaks of warp light, not steady as a star would be in the vacuum of space.
Marshall: You see that? Or am I seeing things already?
Reynolds: It's a little early for hallucinations, too. ::She shot Jo a small, tepid smile.:: But anything we can see with our eyes would have been picked up by the sensors a long time ago, and the bridge hasn’t come knocking. I don’t think it’s a threat.
Marshall: Response
Reynolds: As gloomy as the thought is, it might be a ship graveyard. ::It was her turn to frown.:: The Borg don’t assimilate everything; we know they leave behind ship wreckage if there’s no new technology in it.
Marshall: Response
The wretched truth of situations like theirs; another’s misfortune could be their boon. If there were ship graveyards out there, the remnants of battles and hopeless stands, it was a potential resource for them. Robbing the dead to sustain the living. A dirty business, but unlike Over There, it was unlikely their foe would monitor such sites, and it would make for a relatively safe scavenger hunt.
Another thing to add to her already bustling thoughts. Her mind was all over the place, running through each interaction and experience since they’d finally locked sensors on Johnson. Apropos of nothing, it jumped back to something Jo had said only a short while ago.
Reynolds: Do you want to head out and check on Nkai now?
Marshall: Response
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
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