MSNPC The “Admiral” — Floating in Wait
Nolen Hobart
((USS Ouachita, adrift in the Lagoon Nebula))
She'd forgotten how beautiful a stellar nursery could be. Swirling gas, twinkling stars. There were things you simply couldn't imagine seeing in space, out in space. A faint electronic buzz and the soft breathing of her two young companions were all that surrounded her in the chilly dark. The runabout they'd “salvaged” had seen far better days, and in many ways she realized this place—this nebula—was more its home than anything else.
For the first time in a very long time the war seemed far off. On pause. The mounting dead, the strained supply lines, they'd all vanished into the mists of “not right now, please.” It felt like a dereliction to the Admiral, and she had to push it off. It wasn't dereliction. The war truly was on pause, far off, to her.
Well. She'd fix that soon enough, wouldn't she?
Tori: Good morning, Admiral. :: A light smile. :: Good morning, love.
Kael: Response
The Admiral was wrapped up under a survival blanket as tightly as her hair bun. They had recirculation and heat, though only modest levels of each. It was enough that she was confident they would not suffocate or freeze to death, at least not before they died of thirst.
Admiral: You weren't out long.
Tori: Anything I can do to help?
The Admiral looked to the only man among them, a Human-Haliian hybrid. Kael was a good technician, one of her best. And ordinarily she wouldn't have allowed the lovebirds on a mission together with these stakes. But their devotion to each other—and their relation to key targets—might prove invaluable. It was still a major risk, and the Admiral had long ago given up the hope of planning away the risk in her life.
Kael: Response
Admiral: ::turning to Tori:: Still no comms. Unless you want to step outside and wave your arms…?
Tori: Right. :: Slumping into a chair. :: Well I predict our ride only needs to last another few hours at most. :: Beat :: They’ll be here soon. I can feel it.
She could probably feel the effects of long term exposure to Sencha radiation, reflected the Admiral. Which wasn't necessarily to say that the young woman couldn't feel their quarry on approach. Space was strange enough without softening up the barrier to subspace, and far be it from she to argue with their science specialist. There wasn't anyone alive in the galaxy who knew as much about Sencha as Tori Semara had forgotten.
Or, if they were alive, they'd not yet learned it. The Admiral stopped herself from probing the limits of that idea, lest it haunt her into a migraine.
Admiral: I don't know how much of a difference comms would make. They should be on top of us any minute. ::over her shoulder:: Instead of comms, how about another directed Sencha burst? Make a fresh imprint?
Kael: Response
Admiral: This will have been for nothing if we blow ourselves up. Better play it safe, for now.
Kael / Tori: Response
The Admiral fixed her gaze out the transparent forward view panels. Every twinkling of light through the swirling, sprawling gas cloud around them taunted her. She blinked away the strain.
Admiral: Remind me of your confidence on this? Place and time?
Kael / Tori: Response
TBC
——— ? ———
The “Admiral”
as simmed by
Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart
Executive Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
A240001NH3