Lt. (j.g.) Ian O'Connor - In a Loo Not Built for Two
rob mahardy
((Shuttlecraft Carl Sagan, near Deep Space 33))
Ronin’s underside almost enveloped the whole forward viewport.
O’Connor: Now!
Quentin's hand slapped down against the console and the tractor beam snapped off suddenly, which allowed the two fighters to slip away and up behind the Ronin.
Beck: Hey, that was–
The two fighters’ momentum carried them behind Ronin. Sagan continued forward just scraping the front underside forward hull as it passed, before being pummeled by the shockwave.
Out of the corner of his eye Ian saw Quetin’s head bang against the console in front of him then get thrown fully out of his seat.
Ian held his seat as the shuttle tumbled through the wave, eventually ending up drifting close to DS33. He felt a burning in his gut and looked down to see the bandages had soaked through meaning his wound had reopened. He glanced back and saw Beck passed out on the deck. The lights began to flicker before fading altogether. The only light was the occasional starlight or beacons from the station that filtered through the forward viewscreen periodically as the shuttle rotated through space.
Ian tried to move toward where the Doc lay but as he twisted sharp pains shot through him taking him to the edge of blacking out. He smacked down on the inactive console but that changed nothing. He tapped toward his commbadge but realized that it was still disassembled in the turbolift on Ronin. He sighed and tried to move again with only slightly less pain than before. Powering through it he stood and crossed the cabin. Beck’s chest was stilling and falling.
Relieved, Ian then tried for the medkit in the rear compartment. As he stepped, gravity kicked out and he began to feel weightless. The cabin went entirely quiet as well when the air recycling system stopped filtering.
Ian sighed trying to prioritize his next actions, knowing that he might pass out any moment as well. He also knew that they didn’t have very long before they ran out of air or froze. Signaling for help needed to be the priority.
With no power that could prove challenging but he had an idea. He gathered up the few phasers on board as well as some additional power packs and got to work. It took a few minutes but he was relatively satisfied so he floated toward the rear hatch. He set his jury rigged device there and activated the manual cycling mechanism for the hatch to open. He had thirty seconds.
Pushing the weightless Beck, Ian maneuvered him back and then wedged them both into the tiny refresher. He closed the door and sealed them in.
When the shuttle door opened and it decompressed, Ian could feel some of the atmosphere sucked out of the tiny room as it wasn’t completely airtight anymore, probably from the damage they’d taken.
Squished against Beck in a space not designed to be comfortable fir even one, he laughed at the absurdity and imagined the face of someone finding their corpses entwined upon a toilet. It was in that moment that if he could have seen out the vieweport, he would have seen three small flashes followed by three larger ones and again by three smaller ones.
Ian sighed again, expending precious oxygen then the blackness finally took him.
Had he held out just a second longer he’d have felt the shuddering of the hull as the worker bee attached to them.
Gra’vel/Singh: Response
[Tags/End Act 3 for O’Connor!]
Lieutenant (j.g.) Ian O’Connor
HCO
USS Ronin NCC-34523
R240009IO4