[G] Commander Ross & Captain Reynolds - Recovery

[Quinn Reynolds]

(( Sickbay, USS Garuda ))

 

::He'd woken and fallen to sleep again several times, and none of what he saw made sense. It was a sickbay, but not one he recognised. The faces of the people too, were unfamiliar and that left him unsettled, despite their soothing tones and reassuring words. The dull, warm haze swaddling his brain did little to help matters.

::But this time, he woke much clearer of mind, to find Quinn Reynolds perched on a stool by his bedside. Her legs were crossed, elbow on her knees, a living version of the bronze Thinker, only she was intent on the large PADD in her hand, instead of some greater esoteric mystery.::

ROSS: I feel like hell.

::His voice didn't sound like his own, or at least, sounded like a herd of angry cats had been using his throat as a scratching post. Nonetheless, her head snapped up and she looked over at him. The smile couldn't hide the exhaustion in her eyes, and there was an angry welt on her forehead.::

REYNOLDS: Strange coincidence. You look like hell.

ROSS: I'm wounded. You're supposed to be nice to me. ::She snorted a soft laugh and he managed a faint grin in reply, before he glanced around at the other biobeds, looking to see who was in them.:: My team?

REYNOLDS: They're all aboard, and they've been well looked after.

::It was a relief, and he nodded his thanks. Sleep didn't threaten to claim him, at least not yet, and he asked the next question on his mind.::

ROSS: What happened?

REYNOLDS: We were ambushed in orbit, by Cardassian warship with a cloak. We fled toward the sun, played an almost disastrous game of hide-and-seek and then I nearly blew up the Mercury trying to get the upper hand.

::He waved a finger in a tired circle, indicating the foreign sickbay. She understood the unspoken question, and continued.::

REYNOLDS: The USS Garuda arrived in system, with a Cardassian escort. I don't know if it was the sight of them that sent the Nok'Tan fleeing, or whether my stunt actually worked. Either way, the Mercury's being towed back to Deep Space Ten. It's missing the sensor module, the warp core and large sections of hull. 

::Her face told the rest of the story. A ship so damaged lost more than just parts, it lost people. The casualty list must be huge. But there was something about her tone that said the story wasn't finished.::

ROSS: There's more, isn't there?

REYNOLDS: Aron— Captain Kells is gone. He left, with one of the Mercury's shuttles.

ROSS: He just left?

REYNOLDS: ::Her voice was flat.:: He just left.

::Harry knew he was one of the more career-minded individuals around. Almost everything else in his life was secondary to his duty to Starfleet. The thought of leaving it all behind, just like that, was hard to imagine.::

ROSS: And he left you in command.

::Words didn't oblige her a verbal reply, and instead she answered with an awkward nod.::

ROSS: You don't want to be?

REYNOLDS: Hell, no.

::Another idea that was hard to imagine. She'd commanded starships before: the Eagle, and later, the Drake. Why wouldn't she want to sit in the big chair again?::

ROSS: Why not?

REYNOLDS: This isn't my ship, this isn't my crew. They look to Aron, they look to you. I'm just the spook who, ::she gestured vaguely in the air,:: wafts around the corridors, making their lives difficult.

::Harry wasn't convinced.:: 

ROSS: And the real reason?

REYNOLDS: I am… far too sober for that conversation, Harry.

ROSS: Are you asking me to get you drunk?

::She leaned forward, her voice low, her expression deadly serious.::

REYNOLDS: I could smother you with a pillow right now. It's tragic, isn't it, how the injured can so suddenly take a turn for the worse.

::He grinned at her, and as she sat back, her expression softening to mirror his. He gestured, with a flick of a finger, toward the lump on her brow.::

ROSS: Speaking of injuries. You're alright?

REYNOLDS: I'm fine.

::Looking at each other, he debated telling her how he'd worried, when the Mercury had fallen out of contact and they'd received the beacon's message about the attack. But that would serve nothing, except to fish for a reciprocal confession. He wanted to hear her say he wasn't alone, and she had worried over him, too.::

ROSS: I could love you, if you'd let me.

::The words fell out of his mouth unbidden, the tail end of a thought that was intended to remain unspoken. He could feel the colour rising in his cheeks; she stared at him, jaw slack, as though he'd grown a second head or declared his undying allegiance to the Ferengi Rules of Acquisition.

::Eventually her expression shifted, but he couldn't tell if she was embarrassed, pleased, horrified or some confused mix of all three.::

REYNOLDS: Well, you just wear your heart on your damned sleeve, don't you?

ROSS: ::He grimaced.:: On occasion.

::She took in a deep breath, avoiding his gaze, her discomfort obvious and his growing by the second. He had the distinct feeling he had just crossed a line.::

REYNOLDS: We'll have a conversation later. Not here.

ROSS: Fair enough.

REYNOLDS: I should go. Get some rest, Harry. Get well. 

::She slipped off the stool and patted him on his shoulder, the touch so light it barely registered. He watched her walk away, sinking down into his pillows and shook his head, face covered with his palm..::

--

Commander Harrison Ross

First Officer

USS Mercury

simmed by

 

Captain Quinn Reynolds
Director of Intelligence

USS Mercury