Lt JG Quentin Beck - ...dead Cthulu waits dreaming [Part 2]
Quentin Beck
((Bridge, Deck 3, USS Ronin, Outside the J-0922A System))
He stood a little taller as the conversation petered to a halt, the corner of his mouth pulling to one side and drawing his lips into a thin line. He watched Kirsty out of the corner of his eye; he'd gotten to know her well enough by now to know she was likely in the self-flagellation stage of her usual coping routine. Seemed like it was a Marine thing. It didn't matter that there was no way she could have guessed, expected, planned for, or judged that the Alliance had potentially been playing them.
Quentin grew concerned for a moment when she hammered her hand against the console almost hard enough to bust her knuckles; it was a superficial injury, something he'd be able to take care of with very little trouble, but he was beginning to think he needed to intervene for the sake of her long-term health. He made a mental note to follow up with her later on, frowning.
He glanced over at Niac when the 2O's voice filtered through again.
Alieth: =/\= Alieth to Captain Niac. I have a proposition to make before the Ronin leave the system. =/\=
Once again, everyone listening seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. Whether that was a good or a bad thing remained to be seen, but it showed they all knew the Vulcan well enough to guess what her suggestion might be.
Niac: =/\= Go ahead Commander but make it fast. We're leaving as soon as Engineering finishes some emergency repairs. =/\=
Alieth: =/\= Leave me and my team behind, with a small runabout. The Rhine for example can fly undetected for longer than any larger vessel and will allow us to gather enough intel to learn more about Alliance technology, the science behind their weapons and how to combat them. The rest of our department can collaborate with the Khitomer science team to design a diffuser for Sencha weapons with what we have already shared with them, so our presence will only be of advantage to this mission. =/\=
Quentin almost burst out laughing at the sheer audacity displayed by that request. He admired the size of Alieth's brass cajones, which was ironic since he thought she was pretty damned nuts. It was also weirdly attractive. He shook away that thought.
Niac: =/\= Are you out of your Vulcan mind?! A runabout could get shot to pieces before it even gets inside the interference barrier and even if you do, one more S-wave detonation even near you could have you crippled. Or were you planning on taking a medical team with you on this fools errand? =/\=
Alieth: =/\= Ensign Syrex, in fact, volunteered herself. That will cover any problems that might arise. =/\= :: Without letting the captain retort:: =/\= We will be able to relay the information to the Ronin before you reach Deep Space Thirty-Three and then hide until it becomes safe to return. =/\=
Quentin's brows shot up nearly to his hairline at the mention of the new medical officer. He wasn't so sure he believed that she'd volunteered, exactly, not after the conversation they'd had just before they'd split up to perform the inoculations, but maybe his pep-talk had given the Ensign more confidence than he'd realized - or intended.
All eyes were on the captain.
If anyone could face the Vulcan and survive, it was Niac; he'd basically witnessed the two of them fight to a standstill his first week on the Ronin, they were so evenly matched. It took a moment for the Trill to respond, and it wasn't really an answer, either way.
Niac: =/\= Standby Commander. I'll take your proposal under advisement. =/\=
He noticed Kirsty's shoulders relax just a little; that was a good sign, at least.
Tucker: I swear, if they so much as put a scratch on that ship, they’ll be the ones doing the repairing. I mean she’s all but brand new for Cripe's sake.
Carpenter: Sir, I have to strongly, strongly advise against the away action…
Niac: Your objection is noted, Commander Carpenter...but I don't believe we have the luxury of holding anything back at this point. Doctor Beck, can you spare Ensign Syrex for this...away mission?
Something that felt like a brick materialized in his gut at the question and he shifted a little uncomfortably, his face pinching as he considered the obvious danger involved. Syrex was green as hell, even if she'd been proving invaluable as part of his medical staff so far. Part of him wanted to shoot that down entirely and insist that he should be the one to stay behind on the Rhine, if anyone was going to do it… but he wasn't just a junior medical officer anymore. He was supposed to be the one in charge.
He met the Captain's gaze and gave a single, curt nod.
Beck: So long as it's noted I'll personally deliver a match of every single bump, bruise, and scratch to Lieutenant Commander Alieth myself should my medical officer come to any harm.
Marty's console beeped to draw their attention.
Tucker: Repair teams are underway, and they’re still having problems with the aft shields, has to do with the generator in the mission pod; my crews are spread pretty thin as it is. But I’ve redirected specialist repair groups to the mission pod. So the inertial dampers might be a bit iffy, as I pulled them off that project. There was a phase fluctuation in the dampers I was trying to stamp out before it became an issue; we’ll just be tossed around a bit if it gets dicey.
Carpenter: Yes, sir, risen now to 80% and holding thanks to Mister Tucker's teams, but sir, again, I gotta caution-
For just a moment, the Captain dropped rank and department and spoke to Kirsty person to person.
Niac: I don't like it either, Kirsty. But you know better than anyone how much of a disadvantage we're at...if there's a chance they can get us some actionable intelligence...anything we could use in the upcoming battle...we have to take it. Whatever happens...it's my decision.
Niac took a moment. Quentin did too.
Niac: =/\= Niac to Alieth. Away mission...approved. Get your team into the Rhine and launch in the next....six minutes or you're coming with us. =/\=
Alieth: =/\= Response =/\=
Niac: =/\= Commander, it may not be possible for you to link back up with the Ronin even if your mission is a success. =/\=
Quentin had to bite his tongue to keep from repeating what he'd said to Niac only a few moments before; if he could trust anyone to take care of his new medical officer, it was the team that would be with her on the Rhine. He'd said his piece.
Niac: =/\= With that in mind I'm ordering a copy of the ships logs and sensor records transferred to the Rhine's computers. In the event...in the event we cannot rendezvous, you are ordered to proceed at best speed to Cait Spacedock. Flt. Admiral Washington will know what to do. Good fortune, Commander. =/\=
Alieth: =/\= Response =/\=
A soft sigh escaped the Doctor's lips as he raised his good hand to rub the back of his neck. It was amazing, thinking back on all the action he'd seen in his short stint as a Starfleet officer; something about the Ronin seemed to draw in excitement and, more importantly, danger. How close had he come to dying since that first day walking into Kel's Sickbay? How much closer was he to it today, at this moment?
Beck: ::under his breath:: Break a leg, you guys.
Silence lingered for the short time it would take for the Rhine to launch; it wasn't long before another voice filtered through the comm, one he recognized immediately as his new Grasshopper, but with an urgency he'd yet to hear.
Syrex: =/\= Ensign Syrex to the bridge, intruder Alert, Deck 10. =/\=
Quentin blinked a few times, his brows nearly reaching his hairline once again, and his gaze flicked from Niac to Kirsty and back again.
Niac: =/\= Niac to Syrex, say again? =/\=
Kirsty drew his attention again, her lips forming a question that he could only just make out by reading them.
Carpenter: One of yours?
He nodded once intensely, ready to point out she was the one that was supposed to be joining the Science team on the Rhine, but Alyndra spoke again before he could actually say anything.
Syrex: =/\= Young, human, male, ::Catching breath:: Gold uniform, wait… no that’s not right. Sir, I am picking up two distinct lifeforms in a single entity, one human, one… changeling =/\=
Quentin's face fell at that report. The empty space that used to be his right hand started to tingle in that way where it felt like the hand was just asleep and not missing entirely. Although it hadn't been long since his short stint hitching a ride on the Artemis, it had felt like an eternity, especially once he'd gotten back into the usual rigamarole on the Ronin; in truth, he'd convinced himself he'd hallucinated most of what had happened, the Borg, the Changelings seemingly working with them.
Niac: =/\= Standby Ensign but do not engage. =/\=
It was only his missing hand that served as true evidence for him that something bad had happened there, maybe was still happening. Maybe it was all connected.
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.
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.
Quentin's face had paled and his attention had grown distant for a long moment before it seemed to register that the Captain had spoken to him directly. His eyes snapped up suddenly and he nodded, trying to gather his wits about him again.
Beck: Aye, sir. I'll make sure we're prepped and ready for anything.
Despite acknowledging the order, Quentin had trouble willing his feet to work.
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.
Before Kirsty could leave, Quentin shot her a pleading look. Someone had likely gotten to Syrex by now, or he hoped as much anyway with seven decks between them, but the look he gave the Security officer suggested deep worry for his mentee. He didn't say anything about it, instead tore his gaze away so he could look at the viewscreen again.
Carpenter: RESPONSE
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 Captain stood and stepped forward.
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. =/\=
It was a good speech. Stirring, even. Might even have made Quentin think they had a chance if the brick in his gut hadn't started expanding. It felt more like a… balloon slowly filling with quick-drying cement.
O’Connor: Engaging warp drive.
Tucker: :: nervously:: I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer here, but someone is in the computer system. Before I was able to block what was happening, I was locked out of engineering and weapons controls. I’d bet dollars to donuts that our intruder is to blame. I’m working on restoring those systems now.
Beck: I'll start prepping test kits to start screening the crew for changelings… and maybe replicate some tupperware while I'm at it. ::to Niac:: There were changelings on the Artemis, too. This is not an isolated thing.
Niac: RESPONSE
The starfield stretched, and the Ronin vaulted away from the J-0922A system at high warp, leaving behind only a few blasted hull fragments and a tiny, nearly invisible runabout trailing in their wake. It wasn’t but a couple of minutes before the ship sputtered and made an awful clunking noise as the Ronin unceremoniously dropped out of warp.
Tucker: Shit! ::he pounded his console::
The lead weights that made up his feet finally gave way and Quentin found himself hustling towards the turbolift. This was not how today was supposed to go.
[Tags/End of Act 1 for Beck!]
Lieutenant JG Quentin Beck
Acting Chief Medical Officer
USS Ronin NCC-34523
A238810SA0