Lieutenant Commander Etan Iljor - One a scientist…
Michael Meir-Wright
(( Outside Sickbay, Deck 7, USS ‘Oumuamua ))
Starfleet Academy felt like a lifetime ago to Iljor, yet in actuality he had only been a commissioned officer for a shade over two years. How far things had come since then. The Prophets had laid for him was one full of unexpected twists and turns, some welcome, others …not so much. Tyber’s arrival also served as a reminder that the expectations he had had for his career had been monumentally wide of the mark. So much for being posted to a backwater science outpost where he might have communed with rocks…
Etan: It feels like a decade for me, but it’s barely been two years since my graduation ceremony. How time flies.
Kel: ::looking at Etan:: We must have been at the academy around the same time. I'm sorry our paths didn't cross before now.
Had the Chief Medical Officer conducted his studies at the Betazoid campus- or was this another and all too frequent assumption that every officer in Starfleet had attended the San Francisco campus on Earth? Not that it was at all the fault of the Andorian-Trill hybrid. The recruitment videos designed to ‘woo’ prospective cadets only ever showed life in the shadow of The Golden Gate Bridge. The satellite campuses off-world never got a look in.
Tyber: I would not have been much fun. I mainly stuck to my quarters studying or in the gym working out.
The mission specialist smirked to himself. His experience had been much the same… except for the working out part. He had often envied the cadets who had the discipline to maintain peak physical fitness. Iljor was not one of those people… not when their archaeological tomes to pour over in the many libraries of the Betazed campus.
The doors to Seven Forward came into view for the ambling trio of officers and Iljor found himself curious as to what he would find on the other side. He was about to ask Doctor Kel about that very topic when the man’s combadge chirped and an unfamiliar voice filtered from its speakers.
Vomek: =/\= Lt. Kel? Doctor? We're receiving a distress signal from a nearby vessel. They're reporting ship wide systems failures and injuries. =/\=
Heart rate quickening, Iljor looked at Kel, who to his credit appeared to remain calm and collected. A familiar sensation began to take root in the Bajoran’s stomach, something like gnarled roots pressing around his stomach.
Kel: ::calmly:: =/\= Have you notified the Commodore and the Colonel? =/\=
Etan: oO Aren’t they- Oo ::he thought, remembering a comment made in passing during his last meeting with the two command officers.::
Vomek: =/\= They're both off ship! =/\=
You didn’t have to be telepathic- or even empathic- to know that the officer at the other end of the commline was panicked by this sudden and unexpected development. What Iljor did not expect was the CMO to turn him expectantly, a deferential look in his eye.
Kel: You’re 2nd officer I think it’s your call. For my part I think we need to do what we can to help.
A million and one protests log jammed Iljor’s thought for the briefest of moments. Second Officer?! Since when?! Had Starfleet Command neglected to tell him something about his assignment to the ‘Oumu- then again… who had time to think about that right now?!There was an SID - Ship In Distress- in progress. Starfleet regulations were unambiguous. They had to respond. They had no choice.
Tyber: I am ready to assist anyway I can, sirs.
Iljor nodded his head sharply, suddenly finding himself ‘on mission’ as it were. Shore leave and acclimating to his new posting could wait. Kel took the directive and set to work.
Kel: =/\= Calm yourself ensign. How far out is the vessel? =/\=
Vomek: =/\= Point two five light years. =/\=
Iljor did the math in his head and matched it with the stellar cartography database’s information on Seytoxal’s home star system. When he realised where that likely put the stricken vessel, his heart sank.
Tyber: Not too far.
Etan: But far from ideal. At that distance that would put it somewhere in the system’s Oort Cloud. ::he said aloud.:: And within striking distance of the bow shock.
If a vessel struck the bow shock at just the wrong angle of entry or became caught up in the unpredictable and dangerous solar winds that marked the end of a solar system and the beginning of interstellar space… the results were not pretty. It also meant that any rescue mission would be hampered by said winds. ‘Oumuamua might have been smaller and more agile than the Excalibur-A, but it would still be at the mercy of the storms if they could not manoeuvre quick enough. What they ideally needed was a remarkably nimble vessel….
The CMO it seemed had the very same idea as he and Iljor locked eyes at the same moment.
Kel: We could take a shuttle. I can be ready in 10 minutes.
Etan: The Weryk should still be in the shuttlebay. It’s not due to return to Deep Space Nine for another two days.
The Type 11 long range shuttlecraft would be perfect for the rescue mission. Fast enough to get to the distressed vessel well within acceptable response times and agile enough that it would be able to navigate the turbulence without much risk to it’s hull integrity.
Kel: =/\= Ensign keep trying to contact the commodore and the colonel. Commander Etan and I will handle the situation in the meantime. =/\=
The three officers split at that point, fanciful notions of sharing a drink in Seven Forward discarded like dead leaves on a breeze. Iljor put in a call to the bridge and asked them to prep the Weryk for launch. Unfortunately, the shuttle had been forced to return to DS9 ahead of schedule, but he was assured by a rattled-sounding Ensign that the Nichols was still available.
He ran into Ensign Promontory, the intelligence officer he had shared a meal with in the Captain’s Mess two days earlier and quickly requisitioned him for the impromptu mission. Remembering that the man had taken science classes at the Academy, he felt he might be able to put theory into practice.
((Shuttlecraft Nichols, Main Shuttlebay, Deck 10))
Almost ten minutes to the second later and Iljor strode across the shuttlebay towards the Nichols, Ensign Tyber- with whom he had reconnected as he approached the bay- a step behind him. The security officer peeled off to grab a stash of weapons which would, with any luck, go unused. Waiting for them at the shuttle was Dr Kel, Ensign Promontory and an unfamiliar blue-skinned alien glad in a gold uniform.
Kel: Let's get a move on. As the Ferengi say "time is money".
Tyber : DaHjaj jajvam
As Iljor ascended the short ramp to the surprisingly spacious long-range shuttle, he offered a quick nod in greeting to Promontory and the other officer and figured that the introductions would have to wait.
He made his way to the cockpit when his comm badge chirped and another unfamiliar voice spoke.
Bridge Officer: =/\= Bridge to Commander Etan. I have managed to locate the Commodore and Colonel Greaves. =/\=
Etan: =/\= Patch them through, please. =/\= ::he said with professional curtness.:: =/\= Commodore, Colonel? =/\= ::he added a moment later when the calls were connected.:: =/\= We’ve intercepted a distress call from a ship in this system’s Oort Cloud. We’re preparing to launch the Nichols to render what aid we can and to navigate the bow shock. =/\=
V’Airu / Greaves: =/\= Responses. =/\=
Arlil / Kel / Promontory / Tyber: Responses.
Etan: =/\= Given the unpredictability of the storms in that region of the system, I believe a shuttle-led rescue will be safer than if we attempt it with the ‘Oumuamua, which may have a slower response time if the storms suddenly shift direction without warning. =/\=
V’Airu / Greaves: =/\= Responses. =/\=
Arlil / Kel / Promontory / Tyber: Responses.
-
Lieutenant Commander Etan Iljor
Mission Specialist
USS ‘Oumuamua
NCC - 81226
(he/him - IC)
(they/them / he/him - OOC)