LCDR Nolen Hobart — Curbing Curiosity
Nolen Hobart
((Shuttlecraft Control Room, Deck 2, USS Khitomer, Lagoon Nebula))
Ensign Banks’s report nearly surprised Lt. Commander Hobart, but he had been so unwilling to commit himself to any expectation whatsoever that it didn’t quite. He chuckled wryly, and then turned towards the door to the shuttlebay, swiftly stepping through from the control room.
Hobart: If there’s lifeforms aboard, let’s go welcome them. And maybe shoot them.
He sensed the trepidation of the others as his words smacked against their sensibilities as Starfleet officers. It had been half a joke, and he figured they knew that. What he wasn't sure about was which half bothered them more.
Zerva: ::to Bechtel:: You’re with me. ::to Kelana and Wynters:: Take flanking positions on either side of the runabout. Set phasers to stun. There could be friendlies on board. We don’t know what’s inside, so be prepared to fire on command.
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 hesitated by the door, and looked back to watch the Ensign at the controls. A snicker crawled up his spine.
Hobart: Ever played ‘Operation?’ Don't touch the sides. ::beat:: BZZZT.
He slapped the console side playfully, and resumed course through the door to the shuttlebay proper.
((Shuttlebay))
The craft came in and Hobart stared at it, his jaw askew. The paint was rough, but it was unmistakable. This was the Ouachita. Or a very clever mock-up. Ensign Banks caught up with them and gave voice to what they were all thinking.
Banks: The Ouachita? How…?
Zerva: ::whispering Betchel as the Petty Officer moved up next up him:: Take the right with Kelana, I’ve got Wynters back. ::to Ensign Banks continuing to whisper:: 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.
The operations Ensign read off her PADD. Nolen’s curiosity would have had him climbing up and peering through the windows, if his survival instincts hadn't successfully dissuaded him.
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 Connor knowing the engineering chief wasn’t without some tools whispering:: Commander, we may have to break our way inside to get these doors open. Suggestions?
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.
They could cut into it. Or they could beam a boarding party into it. If they're Starfleet, or if they're not, “stun first, talk later” seemed like a perfectly reasonable approach to the situation. These were the people, he was almost certain, who'd been behind manipulating Khitomer to the Nebula in the first place, which didn't mean they weren't Starfleet. It just meant he wasn't going to give them the benefit of the doubt.
Hobart: Let's get the cutter ready, but eyes up, Zerva. If this runabout so much as creaks wrong, open up on it.
Zerva: ::whispering:: Yes sirs, awaiting your commands.
Suddenly the doors behind him opened, and Lt. Commander Ohnari stepped through. Nolen hadn't called for her, and given the situation he wasn't keen on her being there. Though maybe they would need a doctor, come to think of it.
Hobart: I called medical to the bridge…?
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....?
Hobart: Seems that way. It's—
A crack and a hiss of atmosphere rushing one way or the other through the door announced that the shuttle was opening up. Slowly. Very slowly. As if it was being opened by manual hydraulics.
Banks: Response
Hobart: Ohnari, Banks, back now! You, too, Connor. Zerva, I want them out of that runabout with their hands where we can see them.
He sensed frustration—a very familiar flavor—from within, and a woman's voice called out.
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!
The door kept creeping open.
Dewitt: ::to Zerva:: You know that woman, Lieutenant?
Zerva: I do not recall. It is difficult to tell through the bulkhead.::eyes focused as he raised his voice:: Gamma Shift hold your fire. They might be friendlies.
Hobart still wasn't sure about “friendly,” but he was intrigued. With a glance to the others, Nolen stepped towards the door and began to pull it open, giving the runabout's frozen hydraulics as much help as he could. Soon, others were gathered around him. When the door finally opened wide enough, he stepped back. His black eyes fixed on the doorway expectantly.
Banks / Ohnari / Kael / Tori: Response
A woman, at least twice his age he estimated, stepped out. Though her civilian attire was heavily worn and threadbare in parts, it bore the stark cut seams of ex-military. Her impossibly straight shoulders and tight hair bun added to the impression. Behind her, a much younger man and woman. The man was part-Haliian, he recognized, and before Hobart could stop himself, he turned to look questioningly at Ohnari. As if she and all the Haliians in the Alpha Isles were acquainted.
And then something in Connor drew his mind. Recognition, and disbelief.
Admiral: Here we are again.
Zerva: ::sternly:: Gamma Shift, stand down.
As Zerva—unwisely, in Hobart's estimation—literally left his guard down, all that was left was to take a good, long look at the woman who'd somehow enraptured them.
Dewitt: ::quietly:: Ginny…
And that's when he saw it. Her eyes, stern and full of determination, same as they had always been. There was an unquenchable fire in them that he'd always seen, and it burned brighter in this woman than ever before.
Zerva: ::raising a brow whispering:: Ensign Lacy? Is that ::pausing to take a second look for confirmation:: you?
Hobart: Lieutenant—
Dewitt / Banks / Ohnari Kael / Admiral / Tori: Response
Eagerness was getting the best of them, and Hobart threw the supposed Lacy a sideways scowl. She was feeding them, egging them on. Manipulating them.
Zerva: ::red faced:: I… er, suppose so—
Dewitt / Banks / Ohnari Kael / Admiral / Tori: Response
Zerva: ::clearing his throat:: I have… I mean, we have so many questions. H-how is this possible? We left the runabout under the assumption it had been destroyed.
Hobart: ::raising his voice:: We all have questions, but the one who needs to hear the answers more than anyone is Captain Shayne.
Dewitt / Banks / Ohnari / Kael / Admiral / Tori: Response
He considered Lacy's request for a moment, mulling it over. If she was who they thought she was, she probably posed them little threat. Then again, this woman didn't seem wholly like their Ginny. Better safe than sorry.
Hobart: Fine. But you're not going anywhere without an armed guard.
Zerva: ::nodding, his eyes glancing over at the Ouachita, raising a brow:: Clearly. ::glancing behind her:: And those two?
Dewitt / Banks / Ohnari / Kael / Admiral / Tori: Response
Hobart: Same, Lieutenant. Twenty-four hours, confined until the Captain says otherwise. ::clearing his throat:: The rest of you have work to do. I'm sure the Captain will be summoning us, soon.
As the shuttlebay began to clear, Nolen stepped toward the Ouachita, returned to them from the grave. What horrors had it witnessed? What had it survived? What secrets did it hold? The same could be asked of its passengers. And, Temporal Prime Directive aside, Hobart was fairly sure they would be.
Hobart: =/\= Hobart to Shayne. Sir… you're gonna want to sit down for this. =/\=
((Timeskip, Several Hours Later, Conference Room, Deck 1))
Khitomer had retreated from the Nebula, away from its confounding radiation and artificial anomalies informally named after extremely handsome Starfleet officers. At the Captain's request, he'd summoned the ship's senior staff for a new mission briefing, and so far everyone except the Captain and their guests of honor had arrived.
Hobart: How long until we reach Deep Space 33, Lieutenant Korras?
Korras: Response
He nodded. A liesurely pace would allow them time to process exactly what they'd just fetched.
Hobart: No lingering effects on the ship?
Connor / Michaels / Banks: Response
He nodded again. His fingers interlaced and his thumbs began to twiddle. He needed to buy more time, and so turned towards the Science contingent. The more they were talking about their work, the less anyone was speculating about their new passengers.
Hobart: Any insight as to where the runabout came from, yet?
El’Heem / Semara / Richard: Response
He nodded, slowly this time. The way he usually did when scientists spoke at length. He turned his attention quickly to others, the way he usually did when scientists spoke at length.
Hobart: And, how's everybody feeling?
Ohnari / Harford / Ayemet: Response
He was running out of officers.
Hobart: Any… threats?
Charles / Zerva: Response
The doors opened and Hobart gasped a sigh of relief. In walked Shayne, followed by Maybe-Lacy and her merry band. He'd seen the scans. He was not allowing himself to be convinced.
Hobart: Oh, thank goodness. All present and accounted for, sir.
Shayne / Admiral / Tori / Kael: Response
TBC
——— ○●● ———
Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart
Executive Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
A240001NH3