Lt. JG T’Fearne - Yesterday’s Lieutenant… (Part 1)
Teayl Thorn
((A few more minutes later, Outside The Lid, Moon Sigma in orbit of Gas Giant A, Ross 580 System))
The search-and-rescue team rolled out in the all-terrain buggy the Argo-class shuttles carried aboard. They crested a low ridge of fused regolith, and the wounded dome came into full view.
From its centre, a column of searing radiation vented upward into the thin upper atmosphere, a luminous plume flaring like sunlight in reverse. What was left of the base was reminiscent of one of Beck’s powdered doughnuts, but burned through the middle. Around the base, the radiation levels were lower. T’Fearne guessed it was a result of the dome's heavy radiation shielding and the angle of the rupture, deflecting the worst of it.
That might not last, though.
T’Fearne: That’s…looks a lot worse than the scans suggested. Any lifesigns registering in there?
T’Fearne scanned the horizon, at the dome and at their surroundings. The occasional piece of leaf litter rolled gently in the moon’s low atmosphere breeze that she couldn’t feel through her suit. No lifeforms moved. She couldn’t sense any emotions past her teammates.
Shortrith: Only a few, by the looks of it. I can't tell their species.
O'Connor: If I remember correctly from the reports:: the ones he’d had about three minutes of time in route to look over:: it was a very diverse group of workers so be prepared for any…
Every tricorder screamed at once.
O’Connor: Crap, hold on.
He slammed the brakes. The buggy skidded as a shimmering wave passed directly in front of them. Vegetation aged, cracked, and withered in seconds. T’Fearne tightened her gip on the vehicle, letting out a slow breath. Some sort of temporal shear, floated in front of them like an iceberg, drifting loose. That was very bad news.
O’Connor: Unless I’m reading things wrong, it looks like that little wave just aged everything in its path about 10 years.
Wren: ::frowning:: That doesn't sound good…I'll pull up a blueprint, and I'm highlighting where the most life signs seem to be congregated
T’Fearne studied the structure they were heading towards, then leaned in as Wren brought up the facility schematics.
T’Fearne: That plume looks like it’s venting from something at the centre of the dome. Can you tell if the structure is even sound anymore?
Wren: It's impossible to tell, all the vented radiation is scrambling the results. The only way to know for sure would be to get closer.
Shortrith: We're all right for EV suits, yeah? And innoculation boosters?
O'Connor: Maybe, but let’s not get hit by any of those waves if we can help it.
Ian gunned the engine and surged forward toward the broken dome. They disembarked near the structure.
Wren: The life signs seem close to that central structure, which is lucky, it should make moving them to triage easier.
Shortrith: Noted. I'm ready whenever you are.
O'Connor: Let’s go, things seem as stable as they’re gonna get…for now.
Wren: I'm ready to go.
Just then T’Fearne saw a distortion in the air, like a heat ripple and the now telltale sign of a temporal shear rolled past, aging the ground some distance away.
T’Fearne: I see another temporal shear forming, there, see the distortion?
O'Connor: Yeah, let’s very much avoid those.
T’Fearne: Agreed. If one intersects us, I recommend we fall back immediately.
Shortrith: I'll keep my tricorder on the highest setting, continuing to scan for life signals.
O'Connor: Guide us on then.
Wren: I’m going to modify my tricorder to recognize the approach of those ripples. A warning would be nice before we walk into one of them…. ::already distracted with her modifications::
Her gaze flicked to the ensign in approval, Wren was fresh from the academy and already distinguishing herself, making herself useful on her first away mission.
T’Fearne: Good thinking, Wren.
The Lt. Cmdr walked a couple of steps ahead while the Security officer took the position at the rear, where she could see her teammates and anything that might come at them, whilst also protecting their rear. Her dark eyes flicking to shadows as they approached the large structure.
Shortrith: Looks like we're here… Doesn't look like there's much left.
Their Klingon Doctor swore quietly and privately T’Fearne agreed.
O'Connor: What do you guys make of that?
The structure he gestured to had an odd duality to it. Half of the building was crumbling away while one entrance seemed newly built.
T’Fearne: It looks like more evidence of effects of drifting temporal shear.
O'Connor: All right then, if the life signs are that way.
Renaie glanced between the others and the unstable building.
Shortrith: I'm ready to go in when you are.
Wren: I haven’t detected any more ripples at this point, but I’m keeping an eye on it.
T’Fearne: Slow and careful.
((Inside The Lid, Moon Sigma in orbit of Gas Giant A, Ross 580 System))
The outer door opened without issue, almost like the locking mechanism wasn’t installed yet. It swung into a foyer with several hallways off of it. Two were collapsed, some went down a ways and turned but the one that the life signs appeared to be coming from lead straight back and looked brand new.
About three rooms down on the right were the strongest of them. Ian waved them along and stopped at the doorway. It didn’t automatically open so he nodded to Wren to access the panel and T’Fearne to be ready. The Vulcazoid readied her phaser rifle and waited.
Wren: ::thoughtfully: The door’s been reset to factory settings. If they’re trying to hide something, this isn’t the best way to do it. ::finishes setting the door up:: Should open now.
T’Fearne: ::dryly to Ian:: Do you not wish to use your “Universal Key” this time, Commander? :: pointing to this phaser:: Or only when you need a “bio break”?
She referred to the landfall team on Poxima Sigma IV, where Ian had been so desperate for the head that he had phasered through the sealed door handle and startled the rest of the team. She wasn't sure he remembered, and no one else on the team had been there, so she let the point go.
The doors slid apart and Ian stepped in and immediately stopped
O’Connor: What the???
His surprise was so clear and palpable that T’Fearne clamped a hand on his shoulder, prepared to yank him backwards out of harm's way. But the glimpse she caught made her halt and stare with mild incredulity.
The room looked like a crèche.
Infants and toddlers—everywhere. Crawling. Sitting. Crying. Playing. Pointed Romulan ears. Green-skinned, bare bottomed Orion babies. Cardassians. Bajorans. A Suliban child throwing a spectacular tantrum in the corner.
Oversized technician coveralls and scientist jackets hanging off the ones that hadn't crawled free of the garments.
For a brief, alarming second, T’Fearne wondered if her EV suit had sprung a hallucinogenic leak as Ensign Wren dashed forward into the room.
Wren: ::fully running into the room:: No! Not for babies, no! ::scooping up the now-crying Romulan:: Hey, hey come on, stop that. Stop. You don’t want to be electrocuted, that’s not fun. ::reaching into her engineering kit:: Hang on, I- oh! ::pulling out an assortment of ID tags that are tangled together:: Here, play with this ::handing it to him::
Ian swore—using the same Klingon word Shortrith had earlier and T’Fearne privately agreed.
Shortrith: How… what? This seems impossible.
O’Connor: Uh, okay…good job…::he took a long slow deep breath and looked back at the crew:: Ok, let’s…
The all entered the room in Wren’s wake, T’Fearne with no small amount of caution as a wide-eyed Tellarite toddler pulled at Ian’s leg.
She began to look around for a good place to set up transport enhancers. It would be easier to transport this horde of babies from this room rather than bring them all to a transport location when Ian let out a manly shriek.
O’Connor: Ahhhh… Son of a….
One of the children had a titanium bite apparently to puncture the softer part of his heavy duty suit. The Tellarite wailed and retreated behind an overturned cart.
Shortrith: Looks like… You okay, Commander?
T’Fearne: ::matter-of-fact:: I believe with treatment you will survive. Priority is keeping sharp objects away from small mouths.
Around them, at least a dozen toddlers and infants of various species watched—some frozen, some crying, some completely unconcerned.
Wren: ::completely distracted:: I always forget that Romulans wear shoulderpads and aren’t actually shaped like rectangles…… what? Oh, ::tucking the Romulan baby under her arm like a football, reaching into her engineering kit again:: I’m guessing this has something to do with the time ripples we saw outside. If I had to guess, this is what’s left of the crew after walking through one of those things.
O’Connor: Agreed, first let’s…Yaaaahh….
It seemed the Tellarite toddler had found a plasma cutter. The tool ignited. Ian lunged—but not fast enough. The cutter sliced his EV suit, grazing his leg. He swatted the tool away from the toddler as he fell. It skidded across the floor.
Shortrith: I can try to fix it up, if you wish. You okay?
T’Fearne was already moving to secure the tool and picked up a number of other sharp objects.
T’Fearne: ::Slight sympathetic wince:: Sending the children, the domes—de-aged personnel?—to the Ronin where they can be away from the radiation and receive treatment so that they can't damage O’Connor any further is next priority.
Ian hauled himself upright, wincing.
Wren: I mean it could be worse, at least they don’t know what’s going on…. At least I don’t think they know what’s going on, I can’t actually read babies. He still seems pretty broken up, though. ::handing the Romulan baby off to O’Connor, who is closest, before squatting in front of the broken panel:: This looks like it’s been kicked in, not removed properly. ::powering it down, before pulling out an old Sensor Relay emitter:: This is from the original Romulan empire. Romulan engineers have almost universally switched to the Vulcan systems by now, this site might be a lot older than we think…. Even with all the babies.... any way we can corral those guys?
O’Connor: Well since we forgot to pack a sheepdog or a nanny I think the most qualified we have for baby wrangling duty is a counselor. ::He smiles at Shortrith and passes the Romulan baby off:: See what you can do to gather them up. :: he picked up the plasma cutter:: They seem to like shiny things.
Shortrith: What do I do with it? I'm not a paediatrician like Alyndra.
O’Connor: I don’t know…Maybe play a game or sing a song or something. .::bends next to where Delphina is in front of the panel:: Ensign, while you’re baby-proofing the room, see if you can create a small forcefielded area we can use for a playpen, then try to get the replicator online. Who knows when the last time these guys ate was. ::he waved his bitten hand:: They seem to be hungry.
T’Fearne: Good. While you do that maybe see if you can set some transport enhancers up and see if we can transport these…babies directly from the room to the Ronin, out of harm's way.
She didn’t say who’s harm she was referring to but she eyed Ian’s limp and damaged suit with pursed lips.
O’Connor: Lt. T’Fearne and I will check out the rest of the rooms along this corridor and hopefully be right back.
She gave a brusque nod and started to follow Ian out when Wren called out.
Wren: Oh, take this with you! ::passing them her tricorder:: It’ll beep if there’s a time-space ripple.
T’Fearne: Thank you Ensign. Stay alert Doctor. Comm if you need us.
She accepted the tricorder and clipped it into her suit. Her type-three phaser rifle swung neatly over her shoulder as she drew a type-two pistol instead, better for the tight quarters of the base, held low but ready. She fell into step beside Ian, matching his careful, limping pace down the corridor, leaving Renaie and Wren behind with their unexpected nursery.
Shortrith: Go well- owww don't bite me you little-
Renaie’s parting comment cut off as they headed further down the corridor. T’Fearne allowed herself a brief, sardonic smirk. She would take unknown dangers over babysitting any day.
[No Tags / TBC in Part 2]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14