Lt. Cmdr. Kirsty Carpenter - Always Forward. Forward Always.
Justin Partridge
((Bridge, Deck 3, U.S.S. Ronin, Outside the J-0922A System.))
Niac: =/\= Standby Ensign but do not engage. =/\=
Once more a pallor of silence rollicked through the Bridge like a dense current.The clarity provided by Quentin's inoculations however (and the silent, but strong attitude of his support just being in her orbit) did little to ease her worry and apprehension about leaving Alieth and her team behind.
Carpenter: Security patrol responding. I can join them with your leave, Captain, just...::she takes an uncharacteristically hitching breath:: God, please don't let them go over there, sir.
She winced slightly at her expulsion, too emotion driven by half, but gave Quentin back his warm, and mostly physical support. O'Connor and Marty had proven well honed hands, but there was something more...sunny about Beck when the pressure was on. He had almost entirely kept her from exploding on Grus Beta Three, Rox playing well her part in the two-handed effort too. She was grateful for his presence and figured she would again before this day was out.
But once more it was The Captain who held her embarrassingly emotive eyes. With a collected and understanding one all his own. She didn't envy him, but would trust and carry out his judgement. That was the job. As he had his. And while his tone had been stern before (and rightfully so), she knew that there was much, much more beneath the surface of steel. She would have liked to think she knew him enough to know that. None of this was happening lightly.
And there would likely be even harder decisions looming.
Niac: Go Commander, we can do without you up here for a few minutes. Don't take any chances...we've had enough surprises for one day. Mr. O'Connor, what's our best estimate to get back to DS33? Chief Tucker, whatever that estimate is I want it cut in half...I don't care how many hullplates we shed along the way. Doctor Beck, I'd recommend you get yourself back down to Sickbay...I'm sure you're needed there.
Tucker: Full shields should be restored within the hour, inertial dampers will take a bit longer as the generators are a pain in the arse to get to. I think we can get things done, in say four hours, give or take.
O'Connor: Best current speed, about 8 hours. We’re a bit of a way out. I'll do what I can to find a shortcut though.
Beck: Aye, sir. I'll make sure we're prepped and ready for anything.
The same indecision that seemed to anchor Kirsty to her post seemed to also extend to Quentin too. She had seen that look before. Just before everything boiled over inside GB3's Aerodrome. The same face that had greeted her once she had been brought back from the brink of insanity thanks to the maleconite poisoning. This was bothering him too.
She took an awkward, shuffling step back from the terminal...and then decided.
oO Frak it. You'll hate yourself later for not tryin' at least one more time...Oo
Carpenter: Y'all saw the footage from those pirate vessels. Captain, you know better'n anyone what those RoLFs can do. ::she points toward the semi-cloaked platform:: How can we be sure that ain't another trap?
Niac: We can't be, Commander. We'll just have to hope that whatever is out there our people can handle it. Now go...and make sure Lt. Cmdr. Alieth's team makes it to the shuttlebay unchallenged.
She felt Quentin's eyes on her once more. But this time she gathered herself and nodded curtly, confident in the knowledge that she had made her objections known, but quickly (attempting) to reorient herself to the tool she would need to be to carry out The Captain's orders. She spared one last look to Quentin, one that hopefully said "thank you" with a voice she didn't have just now, and then snapped to a quick attention in front of her Captain.
There were things to do.
Carpenter: Sir, yes, Sir.
She started to move toward the Turbolift, The Captain and Ian's voice filtering through the doorway and then into the lift itself as The Captain's general address filled the airwaves around her. She keyed Deck 10 into the door terminal, listening intently to the address and saving her voice to steady her breathing.
Niac: Mr. O'Connor, standby to broadcast a wideband subspace message back towards Federation territory. I know it's a long shot but there's still a chance we can warn them about what's coming. As soon as I'm done I want you to go to maximum warp.
O'Connor: Aye, sir. Channel open…
The lift shot downward as she steadied herself for her people's report once she landed.
Niac: =/\= Ronin to All Federation Outposts and Installations in sector A113. We have reason to believe a large Lattice Alliance strike force is heading towards Deep Space Thirty Three. It is unlikely we will be able to engage them before they reach your position. =/\= He paused, and after a moment he sounded more sure of himself. =/\= We are coming. We will not abandon you. For your tomorrows...we give our todays. Ronin Out. =/\=
She forced herself to stop thinking of Alieth and Lorana and Raedai. To stop speculating on whatever tricks and traps might be waiting on that semi-cloaked platform. Right now she was needed on Deck 10. And honestly, that might have been the best thing for her at the moment.
She realized she had some things she needed to work out before they got to DS33.