Lt. JG T’Fearne - Team F for Fun Sized (Part 2)
Teayl Thorn
((Bridge, Deck 3, USS Ronin))
The turbolift doors parted, releasing the one and a half Betazoids.
T’Fearne stepped onto the bridge and immediately felt disoriented. Not because anything had changed. Because she had. Everything looked slightly higher. Consoles seemed farther away. Sightlines she’d seen on rare occasions she had visited the bridge now sat just above comfortable eye level. It was a subtle shift, but enough to make the space feel awkward.
She paused for a moment until training overrode self-consciousness and she moved to the tactical station. Wren seemed to slide naturally into Engineering. Nicolau remained at the Conn. The absence of the senior officers was ominous. If Kessler, Frost and other more senior officers were still tied up with the rescue effort planetside…that meant they had to resort to a handful of junior officers handling ship maneuvers and defence.
The situation might have been worse than she had heard.
Kel entered briskly moments later. His antennae seemed to twitch in the Andorian equivalent of a double take when he clocked her diminished stature. To his credit, he recovered instantly.
Kel: Lieutenant are you able to man your station?
T’Fearne resisted the urge to straighten her borrowed uniform jacket like a nervous cadet. She lifted her chin, rested her hands on the console, then rose subtly onto her toes to see the upper display.
T'Fearne: ::trying to sound reassuring, but ruining the effect by rubbing her chin with the back of her hand:: Yes, Captain.
He looked dubious for a moment, but then carried on decisively.
Kel: Ensign Wren, I need a systems status update.
Wren: All systems are operating normally. I’m seeing that the engineering crew has seen to any previous damage, and we’re running at ninety percent efficiency.
Kel: Where is Mr. O'Connor?
Nicolau: I thought he was with one of the away teams, sir. Lt. Vomek asked me to cover the conn until he was back aboard. I hope that's alright.
Wren: He was injured on the mission, sir, he’s currently in sickbay. ::after an awkward pause:: He fell through a hole.
T'Fearne: ::adding, without looking up from tactical:: It was a sharp hole.
Kel: Who else is missing?
Nicolau: Uh...I believe Major Singh mentioned something about several of the Valkyries and one of the search runabouts vanishing....but after engineering did....whatever they did....I think they reappeared. Uh. Sir. With the exception of the away teams I'm not showing any of our runabouts or fighters unaccounted for at the moment.
Wren: Shortrith came back with us, but she transported directly into sickbay with O’Connor.
T'Fearne: We saw Lieutenant Nemes in sickbay also. Suit contamination and possible underlying injury.
The acting captain seemed to be dealing with restrained irritation. She had worked closely with him enough over the last mission to surmise that it wasn’t at them personally. She guessed it to be the situation. Dealing with whatever junior officers were available, an unknown hostile vessel and the situation on the moon still fraught with complex peril for any away teams. They were not his first choice, or even second or third. They were three very short women controlling a starship and potentially heading into battle. They were Team Eff.
She straightened unconsciously.
If this was the team available, then she, Wren and Nicolau would be the team that Kel needed to succeed. Everyone on that moon was likely depending on them getting this right.
Kel: OK. What's the status of this vessel that joined us?
Nicolau: Holding position just outside of weapons range, sir, but based on their speed when they entered the system they could close that distance very quickly. I think....I think they're waiting for us to do something...or maybe they're just being jerks. Uh. Sir. Sorry sir.
Wren: ::squinting::..... oO I don’t recognize that ship build…. ::pulling up a record of all recognized ships that the Federation has access to:: I’m accessing federation memory banks to see if I can recognize the make. Might give us a chance to prepare ourselves a little.
T’Fearne bounced slightly on her toes to gain more reach as her fingers moved across the consol.
T'Fearne: Their shields are up. No active targeting scans detected yet, Captain. ::confused:: They have weapons, but they are not charged. They may be being cautious.
Kel: Response
Nicolau: Well that's some of the only good news sir. Whatever that pulse did stabilized spatial conditions around the ship...at least for now. We should be able to navigate freely if we need to without falling into a...space...hole. Sir.
Wren: Sir, it looks like it’s Sheliak. Should we hail them?
T’Fearne’s brows lifted slightly. Sheliak. Where you found Tholians, there was usually a Sheliak lurking behind them.
T'Fearne: ::peering over the consol:: The Sheliak are precise about territorial and contractual boundaries. If they’re here, they likely believe they have a legal claim to the moon’s dome’s, technology and personnel.
Nicolau/Kel: Response
Wren: Oh, they’re… just out of range of our communicators…. Hm
T’Fearne rested her small hands lightly on the console, thinking. It repeatedly startled her to see her hands so small, but her mind still seemed to be functioning well, as paranoid as ever, but more creatively even.
T'Fearne: They may be testing our responses. Or trying to force us to close distance on them so they retain the diplomatic advantage. I recommend waiting for them to approach us.
Nicolau/Kel: Response
Wren: If it’s safe to move forward, maybe we could get close enough to try to warp some of the Tholians off-planet as well? They may be responsible for what’s happening down there, but…
She wasn’t sure if she understood the engineer's meaning.
T'Fearne: You mean transport some of the Tholians onboard? For bargaining power, ensign? We do have two smaller Tholians in the brig. I’m not sure we could differentiate the lifesigns of the ones on the moon with all the radiation…
As an engineer, Wren would be the one T’Fearne would ask about that even being possible.
Nicolau/Kel/Wren: Response
T'Fearne: I can definitely seep us looking non-threatening, should we prefer to appear in a position weaker than we are, sir.
Nicolau/Kel/Wren: Response
A quick grin slipped onto her face for a moment, but she kept her attention locked on tactical displays. She noticed that Nicolau seemed to have found something interesting.
T'Fearne: Lieutenant. What do you see?
Nicolau/Kel/Wren: Response
[Tags / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14