Major Ishani 'Snowball' Singh - Until the Next Life
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Karrod Niac
Jan 11, 2026, 10:24:18 PM (3 days ago) Jan 11
to USS Ronin – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Deck 9, Flight Deck aft, USS Ronin))
The flightdeck thrummed under her boots as another charred, mangled chunk of what used to be the Captains Yacht materialized and settled into place. Years spent in the Marines had taught her to understand the signs of shock within herself, the detached sense of numbness as she went about her duties with clinical precision, and to keep focused on the task at hand. It was what the Captain would've wanted.
It was what Toryn would've wanted.
The loss of the ships CO was a blow to any ship but Commander Raga, who had so recently helped her find herself again...that was a loss to her personally and it was one that stung deeply. The phantom pain in her ribcage flared for the first time in months at the thought of it and Ishani furiously pressed it aside, unwilling to be distracted but everything she was feeling. First, she had things to do.
Like finding out what had happened. And making someone pay for it.
Another segment of twisted wreckage materialized and thudded to the deck. Even with her practiced eye it took a moment to recognize the remains of the runabouts port nacelle. All that remained was a melted, fused together stump of duratanium sporting a partially erased Starfleet delta. Ishani's mood soured further but she continued a silent mental catalog of the...remains.
Tucker: Major Singh, glad you could lend a hand.
Ishani let out a long, slow breath. She didn't intend for her voice to break.
Singh: This is the only place I could be, Commander. I am certain you feel the same way. This...::Ishani nodded her chin slightly towards the growing assembly area::...we must determine what has happened.
The usually amicable Chief Engineer was quiet and contemplative as he shared a long moment with Ishani, staring at the debris. She had no desire to fill the silence.
Tucker: Have they found the black box? Or are we going to have to go search for it ::waving towards the starfield out of the back of the Ronin:: out there..?
She shook her head once.
Singh: Not yet, there's no transponder pulse...if it survived the blast at all, it's inert...likely damaged. I've got half the wing in runabouts going over the blast area with every instrument our vessels can mount...but sensors are being heavily interfered with. It's significantly limiting our effectiveness and slowing the recovery.
Tucker: ::he nodded:: Welcome, Lieutenants.
Ishani gave them one brief moment to digest what they were looking at, strew across the aft flight deck, before redirecting their attention to the task at hand.
Singh: Lieutenants...this is the wreckage of the Kurosawa, the Captains Yacht. Shortly after transiting into this system by means currently unknown, Fleet Captain Niac and Commander Raga attempted to send the Ronin a message. Less than ten seconds later the yacht experienced a catastrophic core breach, destroying the vessel. All aboard are presumed dead. Our responsibility...our duty...is to find out exactly how this...::she gestured hatefully towards the debris::...happened.
Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Chief Tucker held up a hand and found a warmer smile than Ishani could've summoned at the moment.
Tucker: I know we’ve all got questions, but now is not the time. Right now, our job is to go through the wreckage of the Kurosawa with a fine-toothed comb and retrieve the black box. It hasn’t been found yet, and we may have to go out and look for it.
Ishani nodded and gestured towards the technicians assembling forensic sensor arrays all around the wreckage.
Singh: I've asked my people to setup supplemental sensor arrays that you'll be able to direct from your tricorders. You will be able to study this wreckage molecule by molecule until we understand exactly what has occurred. If we are able to recover the yachts flight data recorder, it should help us reconstruct at least the last few minutes of the Kurosawa's flight.
Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Another resounding thud as the transporter deposited something heavy and Ishani's eyes widened, the shattered casing of the yacht's warp core plainly recognizable. It was where the Kurosawa's journey had ended...and hopefully it held the answer to why.
Tucker: ::clapping his hands together:: Are we ready to put Humpty Dumpty back together?
Ishani stepped forward and took a waiting tricorder from a nearby equipment rack.
Singh: By all means, Commander...::she flipped open the tricorder and began scanning but under her breath she whispered.:: May cool winds forever guide you, Toryn.
Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Tempted as she was to dive for the warp core casing itself, Ishani methodically worked in from the edge of the perimeter the deck crews had setup, carefully passing the tricorder over each piece of debris and cataloging it. She had conducted post-combat damage assessments enough times that the work became familiar and routine, giving no space for her grief to manifest. Her tricorder chirped and she spoke aloud.
Singh: The runabouts reported sensor interference outside the ship but that shouldn't be affecting us in here. Are your tricorders working normally?
Tucker/Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Ishani's passed the tricorder over the wreckage three times and, to her vast frustration, the tricorder showed three different sets of readings...none of which made sense. She glanced at the debris then back to the display and pressed her lips together in irritation.
Singh: To me this looks like part of one of the starboard RCS assemblies...but the tricorder can't make sense of it. A warp core breach wouldn't do...this. Not by itself.
Tucker/Nemes/Evinrude: Response
[Tags/TBC!]
============================
Major Ishani 'Snowball' Singh
Starfleet Marine Corp
Commander Aerospace Group - USS Ronin
V239509GT0
The flightdeck thrummed under her boots as another charred, mangled chunk of what used to be the Captains Yacht materialized and settled into place. Years spent in the Marines had taught her to understand the signs of shock within herself, the detached sense of numbness as she went about her duties with clinical precision, and to keep focused on the task at hand. It was what the Captain would've wanted.
It was what Toryn would've wanted.
The loss of the ships CO was a blow to any ship but Commander Raga, who had so recently helped her find herself again...that was a loss to her personally and it was one that stung deeply. The phantom pain in her ribcage flared for the first time in months at the thought of it and Ishani furiously pressed it aside, unwilling to be distracted but everything she was feeling. First, she had things to do.
Like finding out what had happened. And making someone pay for it.
Another segment of twisted wreckage materialized and thudded to the deck. Even with her practiced eye it took a moment to recognize the remains of the runabouts port nacelle. All that remained was a melted, fused together stump of duratanium sporting a partially erased Starfleet delta. Ishani's mood soured further but she continued a silent mental catalog of the...remains.
Tucker: Major Singh, glad you could lend a hand.
Ishani let out a long, slow breath. She didn't intend for her voice to break.
Singh: This is the only place I could be, Commander. I am certain you feel the same way. This...::Ishani nodded her chin slightly towards the growing assembly area::...we must determine what has happened.
The usually amicable Chief Engineer was quiet and contemplative as he shared a long moment with Ishani, staring at the debris. She had no desire to fill the silence.
Tucker: Have they found the black box? Or are we going to have to go search for it ::waving towards the starfield out of the back of the Ronin:: out there..?
She shook her head once.
Singh: Not yet, there's no transponder pulse...if it survived the blast at all, it's inert...likely damaged. I've got half the wing in runabouts going over the blast area with every instrument our vessels can mount...but sensors are being heavily interfered with. It's significantly limiting our effectiveness and slowing the recovery.
Tucker: ::he nodded:: Welcome, Lieutenants.
Ishani gave them one brief moment to digest what they were looking at, strew across the aft flight deck, before redirecting their attention to the task at hand.
Singh: Lieutenants...this is the wreckage of the Kurosawa, the Captains Yacht. Shortly after transiting into this system by means currently unknown, Fleet Captain Niac and Commander Raga attempted to send the Ronin a message. Less than ten seconds later the yacht experienced a catastrophic core breach, destroying the vessel. All aboard are presumed dead. Our responsibility...our duty...is to find out exactly how this...::she gestured hatefully towards the debris::...happened.
Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Chief Tucker held up a hand and found a warmer smile than Ishani could've summoned at the moment.
Tucker: I know we’ve all got questions, but now is not the time. Right now, our job is to go through the wreckage of the Kurosawa with a fine-toothed comb and retrieve the black box. It hasn’t been found yet, and we may have to go out and look for it.
Ishani nodded and gestured towards the technicians assembling forensic sensor arrays all around the wreckage.
Singh: I've asked my people to setup supplemental sensor arrays that you'll be able to direct from your tricorders. You will be able to study this wreckage molecule by molecule until we understand exactly what has occurred. If we are able to recover the yachts flight data recorder, it should help us reconstruct at least the last few minutes of the Kurosawa's flight.
Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Another resounding thud as the transporter deposited something heavy and Ishani's eyes widened, the shattered casing of the yacht's warp core plainly recognizable. It was where the Kurosawa's journey had ended...and hopefully it held the answer to why.
Tucker: ::clapping his hands together:: Are we ready to put Humpty Dumpty back together?
Ishani stepped forward and took a waiting tricorder from a nearby equipment rack.
Singh: By all means, Commander...::she flipped open the tricorder and began scanning but under her breath she whispered.:: May cool winds forever guide you, Toryn.
Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Tempted as she was to dive for the warp core casing itself, Ishani methodically worked in from the edge of the perimeter the deck crews had setup, carefully passing the tricorder over each piece of debris and cataloging it. She had conducted post-combat damage assessments enough times that the work became familiar and routine, giving no space for her grief to manifest. Her tricorder chirped and she spoke aloud.
Singh: The runabouts reported sensor interference outside the ship but that shouldn't be affecting us in here. Are your tricorders working normally?
Tucker/Nemes/Evinrude: Response
Ishani's passed the tricorder over the wreckage three times and, to her vast frustration, the tricorder showed three different sets of readings...none of which made sense. She glanced at the debris then back to the display and pressed her lips together in irritation.
Singh: To me this looks like part of one of the starboard RCS assemblies...but the tricorder can't make sense of it. A warp core breach wouldn't do...this. Not by itself.
Tucker/Nemes/Evinrude: Response
[Tags/TBC!]
============================
Major Ishani 'Snowball' Singh
Starfleet Marine Corp
Commander Aerospace Group - USS Ronin
V239509GT0
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