LtCmdr Connor Dewitt - Ginny.
Tim
((Shuttlebay Control Room – USS Khitomer))
They had barely left the deflector control room when the call came down from the bridge: emergency landing protocols activated. Connor did not know the details, only that a heavily damaged shuttle was inbound. His stomach had twisted at the word “emergency.” After everything, now this?
By the time they reached the shuttlebay control room, he was already giving orders.
Dewitt: Juliet, get fire suppression on standby and power up the interior tractor emitters. We'll most likely need one of those systems
Banks: Aye sir. ::tapping controls:: Fire suppression on standby. Tractor emitters coming online now. Ready in twenty-five seconds.
Connor nodded, only half-hearing. His focus shifted to safety clearances and approach vector overrides, making sure the systems would react instantly if anything went sideways. His hand hovered near the emergency seal activation as the door behind them swished open.
Hobart: Report.
Connor looked up to see his best friend entering the room, apparently in a mood.
Dewitt: Nolen… Welcome to the madhouse. Auto-net’s primed, tractor emitters online. Fire suppression’s standing by. We're as ready as we’ll ever be.
At Juliet’s console, more data seemed to come in. She read it aloud, her tone shifting with the weight of each number.
Banks: Unidentified vessel masses approximately twenty-seven tons; twenty-three point one meters in length, thirteen point seven wide. Consistent with a number of classes of light warp vessels, both Starfleet and otherwise.
Connor felt a spark of unease flicker behind his ribs. A runabout-sized vessel, arriving unannounced, heavily damaged? The parameters Juliet had named fit a Danube-class runabout. But what did it do out here on its own?
Before he could dwell, the door opened again. Zerva entered, every movement tightly coiled and alert.
Hobart: Looks like it's been through hell and bank.
Zerva: Indeed it does sir. I am most curious what we’ll find on board. My team is ready and standing by at your orders.
Connor’s eyes followed Nolen’s. There, framed in the open hangar doors, was the shuttle. Scorched, dented, and barely holding together. It slid inward with the slow inevitability of a wounded animal crawling home.
Banks: ::sounding surprised:: That’s- ::checking her display:: Confirmed, the vessel is a Danube-class Starfleet runabout.
Dewitt: It appears so… Get a fully scan, Ensign.
Hobart: If there's lifeforms aboard, let's go welcome them. And maybe shoot them.
Connor appreciated Nolen’s attempt of disarming a tense situation, but it did not do much for him today.
Zerva: Response
Dewitt: Let’s hope it does not come to that… the shooting part. ::pause:: Bring her in, Ensign Banks.
Banks: Aye sir, bringing the runabout aboard now.
Hobart / Zerva: Response
Juliet’s fingers moved across the console. The interior tractor emitters hummed as the runabout responded to Khitomer’s systems, gliding in with grace until it settled onto the deck. Connor found himself watching it with a strange flicker of compassion. It looked less like a ship and more like a survivor, still limping home despite its injuries.
He gave a quiet nod. That part had gone well, at least.
They exited the control room together as he took a quick glance at his PADD to confirm safeties were holding. By the time they arrived on the deck, Security had already fanned out. Connor’s gaze landed on the runabout. His breath caught at the partial registry letters: -UACH- and -C-746-.
No. That couldn’t be…
Banks: The Ouachita? How…?
Connor did not answer. He did not know. And the feelings it caused where not pleasant.
Zerva: Tricorder readings Ensign? What’s inside?
Banks: Three lifesigns, none in significant medical distress. No weapons systems powered up as far as sensors can detect.
Connor followed her line of sight. The forward sensor arrays were shredded. No wonder there'd been no hail. Connor slowly walked around the runabout to get a better idea of what they towed in.
Banks: ::pointing discreetly:: Damage to the hull right where several of the antenna arrays would be located. There’s a good chance the runabout’s communications arrays are non-functional.
Zerva: ::to Commander Dewitt:: Commander, we may have to break our way inside to get these doors open. Suggestions?
Connor stepped closer to the other officers, his gaze never leaving the pitted hull of the runabout.
Dewitt: There’s a plasma torch in locker four if we need to cut through. Use that before reaching for phasers. And keep it clean. Minimal force. If they’re Starfleet, the last thing we want is to come in hot and scare someone into doing something desperate.
Connor froze for a heartbeat, startled by his own words. If they're Starfleet... The phrase echoed in his mind with a hollow ring of disbelief. They had seen the Ouachita destroyed. The away team had made it back. So who was about to step out of that battered hull?
He then looked at Nolen, letting him call the final play.
Hobart: Response
Zerva: ::whispering:: Yes sirs, awaiting your commands.
Something about this didn’t sit right. But then again, nothing about this mission had so far.
Hobart: Response
Then the hydraulics of the runabout door let out a choked groan like the ship itself was too exhausted to cooperate. The hatch shifted slightly, lifting a few inches before it stuck again with a loud clunk.
Connor took a step forward, one hand resting on the console as the other hovered near a wall-mounted tool holster. It was not a phaser, but in a pinch, anything metal with a charge could do damage.
Before he could call out, the shuttlebay doors slid open behind them with a crisp hiss. Dr. Ohnari strode in, eyes already flicking between the padd in her hand and the vessel ahead.
Ohnari: No, I did understood. Lieutenant Harford is on the bridge responding to that call. I'm here testing a theory of possible pellet signal failure...I am reading three unconfirmed signals. ::flipping the PADD around, she caught sight of the vessel, confusion and bafflement fought for supremacy.:: Coming from...the...Ouachita....?
Connor stayed quiet unable to comment on anything.
Hobart / Banks / Zerva: Response
Then a voice rose from inside the shuttle, muffled by bulkhead and tension.
Admiral: ::cursing under her breath, before calling out:: Dammit, Ezra, if I show you my hands, how the hell am I going to come out? The door won't open! ::deep breath:: More help, fewer threats!
Connor blinked. That voice, it tugged at something. Not memory, exactly. Not yet. But something deep and instinctive told him he knew it. Knew her.
He glanced sideways at Zerva, whose posture seemed to have stiffened slightly at the sound of his first name.
Dewitt: ::to Zerva:: You know that woman, Lieutenant?
Connor’s pulse picked up. Not “sir,” not “Lieutenant.” Ezra. That kind of address didn’t come from rank, it came from shared experience. And whoever was inside that shuttle had it with Zerva.
Hobart / Banks / Zerva / Kael / Tori: Response
He silently moved to flank the shuttle’s forward angle, his boots light against the bay floor, his stance ready. This didn’t feel like an ambush… but it felt like something big was about to be revealed.
With a mechanical gasp of compressed air, the hatch finally gave way. Metal scraped, resisted and then released. The doors opened.
And then she stepped out.
The woman leading the trio carried herself like someone used to walking into danger and getting results. Her jacket was worn, unofficial. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, swept the bay like she owned it.
Connor’s breath caught mid-inhale. He knew that face. Not as it was now, creased with age and command, but as it had been… or as it was.
Ginny*.*
His mind struggled to reconcile the two images. Young Ginny down in Engineering and this woman stepping down the ramp like she had nothing to prove. But before he could process it, two more figures followed behind her.
The first, a woman in her late twenties? Connor was always bad at guessing. She was alert, composed, but not visibly armed. Something in her face also looked familiar. But the Chief Engineer could not quite point to it.
And then the third emerged. A young man. His features were mostly human, but not quite. A faint ridge traced his forehead. For a brief second, Connor felt their eyes meeting with a flicker of something unreadable. Was it familiarity?
Connor felt a tight pull in his chest. There was no logic to it. No evidence. But somewhere in his gut, instinct clenched into a hard knot.
Admiral: Here we are again.
The words landed like a hammer. Connor’s world narrowed to the trio at the foot of the ramp. He looked at his fellow officers but only saw Talia standing next to him before he looked at the trio again.
Dewitt: ::quietly:: Ginny…
For a moment, time seemed to hesitate around him. Just one fragile second where sound dropped away and motion blurred at the edges. The lights above hummed quietly. The air felt thick. And then his eyes looked at the young man again. He did not know why. There was just something about him that did not make sense.
Hobart / Banks / Zerva / Kael / Tori: Response
LtCmdr Connor Dewitt
Chief Engineer & Second Officer
USS Khitomer
A239901CD3