Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
*Narrows eyes* Write faster
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
*Narrows eyes* Write faster
Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
- Thread starter TheLoneRedshirt
- Start date
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Just when it looked like it would all work out. And what the heck is so important about that relic that Garth is willing to commit anti-matter seppeku to protect it?
**begins fingering d'k tahg meaningfully** keep writing!
Just when it looked like it would all work out. And what the heck is so important about that relic that Garth is willing to commit anti-matter seppeku to protect it?
**begins fingering d'k tahg meaningfully** keep writing!
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Just when I thought you couldn't ratchet up the tension any higher! I'm guessing Garth's got some kind of escape plan in place, unless he's still harboring a strong undercurrent of the crazies. And what's his connection to this Klingon relic, anyway?
I really liked Strauss' reaction to Akinola sending Bane over to the freighter, and I'm glad she had the presence of mind to hold her tongue.
Great stuff!
Just when I thought you couldn't ratchet up the tension any higher! I'm guessing Garth's got some kind of escape plan in place, unless he's still harboring a strong undercurrent of the crazies. And what's his connection to this Klingon relic, anyway?
I really liked Strauss' reaction to Akinola sending Bane over to the freighter, and I'm glad she had the presence of mind to hold her tongue.
Great stuff!
...I mean...
...you know what I mean.
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Way to keep us waiting on the edges of our seats!
I'm also curious as to Garth's interest in that relic--maybe an old enemy of his?
Way to keep us waiting on the edges of our seats!
I'm also curious as to Garth's interest in that relic--maybe an old enemy of his?
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Chapter Eleven
Stardate 54070.4 (27 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
Blinding white light filled the main viewscreen on the Bluefin's bridge, dazzling the crew before the screen compensated and dimmed.
Akinola slapped the intra-ship comm button. "All hands! Brace for impact!" He tightly grasped the armrests of the command chair, unconsciously bracing himself for the imminent blast wave.
* * *
In sickbay, Dr. Castille was shouting orders to his staff. "Secure the patients and hang on!" He reached across the still unconscious form of Delta Simms and tightly gripped the rails on her bed.
* * *
Moving with astounding speed and agility, Commander Gralt raced to the main engineering panel and pulled four large handles, taking the mains off-line and activating a containment field around the warp core.
* * *
In transporter room two, Lt. Bane had not cleared the platform when Akinola's voice boomed through the ship.
"Get down!" shouted Bane, as he placed his arms around the still-unconsious Carmine and Shonda.
* * *
Stardate 54070.4 (27 January 2377)
SS Janus
Molari Badlands
Seated at Auxiliary Control, deep within the heart of the Janus, Garth of Izar remotely activated the transporter, then watched in awe on the viewscreen as the Jhar'toq went nova. His finger was poised steadily over a control on the helm as he waited . . .
* * *
IMPACT
* * *
USS Bluefin
Bridge
It felt like they had rammed into a solid wall.
Everyone on the bridge was ejected from their seat. The lights blinked once, twice and everything went dark - the only illumination provided by the sparks from over-loaded LCARS panels.
Akinola felt himself move upward, out of his chair. He absently wondered if the gravity coils had failed. Then, he awkwardly hit the deck - his breath exploding from him in a painful bark, the wind knocked out of him.
Strauss was launched from her station, her body slamming against the forward bulkhead. She slid to the deck, limp and still.
Lt. (j.g.) Bralus somersaulted over the helm console, landing on his back. This was fortunate as his board exploded in a shower of lethal shards.
Ensign Vashtee was not as fortunate as Bralus. Her board also exploded, sending her flying backward. Numerous shards slashed her face and torso. She landed awkwardly on the deck in a pool of spreading blood.
Senior Chief Brin had wisely hit the deck when Akinola had called out his warning. Even so, he was tossed hard against the pit rail, his head hitting one of the stanchions. He struggled to remain conscious, but darkness overwhelmed him.
* * *
Sickbay
The lights flickered and failed as the deck pitched wildly. Dr. Castille held tightly to the rails of Simms' bed, even as his feet flew out from beneath him. He heard equipment crashing and a scream of pain across the room.
As quickly as the violent motion began, it stopped. Emergency lights flickered on. Several more objects hit the deck, not as heavy this time.
"Is everyone alright?" Castille called in a shaky voice.
* * *
Engineering
Gralt blinked and shook his head. Something heavy was lying on top of him. He gingerly moved his arms and legs - at least they still worked. He tried to move, but whatever was on top of him weighed a good bit. He squirmed, trying to gain purchase on the object, and realized that it was a person.
"Hey! Whoever you are! How about getting off me?" He said. But even as he spoke, he felt the warm slickness of blood on the deck and on the figure.
The emergency lights came on, allowing Gralt to survey his surroundings. He struggled against the heavy figure, wriggling free and knelt to see who had fallen atop him.
Chief Brundy stared up at him with one unseeing eye, a shard of metal protruded from the left eye socket.
"Aw, Chief," Gralt whispered, sagging onto the deck, "Aw frak, no."
* * *
Bridge
The emergency lights came on, filling the bridge with an eerie redness. Tendrils of smoke drifted from multiple panels, adding a gray fog to the atmosphere. Sparks still geysered from the helm.
Akinola struggled to catch his breath. His side burned like fire. Probably didn't do those gimpy ribs any good, he thought. The smell of burning transtators tickled his nose, causing him to cough, which intensified the pain in his side.
Painfully, he staggered upright to survey the damage. He was momentarily puzzled to notice that all the stations were vacant. Then, he saw the rest of the bridge crew scattered across the deck, like broken discarded dolls.
He tapped his combadge, "Bridge . . . to sickbay," he wheezed, gasping painfully for enough air to speak. "Medical . . . emergency." He staggered backward, landing in his command chair. Then, steeling himself against the pain, he forced himself to his feet and moved toward Ensign Vashtee. He dropped to his knees beside her, his mouth dry with apprehension.
"Maya!" he whispered in a hoarse croak. Her face was streaked with blood. He placed his fingers alongside her neck. Yes! There was a pulse, but it was weak and irregular.
He staggered to the starboard bulkhead to get the first aid kit.
* * *
Sickbay
Over the sickbay intercom, Castille heard a voice he almost didn't recognize. "Bridge . . . to sickbay . . . medical . . . emergency."
Castille shed his shock like removing a soiled shirt. "Sanders! Get to the bridge, stat! I'll be right behind you." He looked around sickbay at the patients. It appeared they had weathered the blast fairly well, their beds providing adequate restraint and protection. He saw Rice leaning against a bulkhead, her face nearly white with pain. She was cradling her left arm which was obviously broken.
"Computer - activate EMH program."
Immediately, a bald-pated EMH Mark I shimmered into view. "Please state the nature of the emergency," he said in a calm, confident tone.
"Let's just say things have gone to Hell in a hand-basket!" replied Castille as he grabbed a med-kit. "See to Corpsman Rice there - I need her functioning ASAP. Splint her arm and give her something for pain, but I need her head clear! And check on the other patients, too."
"Splint her arm?" The EMH sniffed in an offended manner. "Have we traveled back to the dark ages?"
"Just get on it!" growled Castille, "Or I'll trade you in on a newer model and you can spend the rest of your existence mining asteroids!"
"Well!" responded the EMH with raised eyebrows.
* * *
Auxiliary Control
Lt. Fralk shook the cobwebs from his head and tried to focus on the status panels before him. He frowned in consternation at the sheer number of flashing red lights, all clamoring for attention. He began to run through his check-list.
"Life support . . . okay!" He felt a bit of the fear ease at that. "Hull integrity . . . " He frowned as he noted several small hull breaches, primarily on the saucer, where hull plates had twisted. Emergency force fields kept in the atmosphere.
"Power . . ." At the moment, they were operating on emergency power, but the engineering panel showed that the warp-core was intact, just off-line. He blew out a relieved breath. "Nice work, Gralt!" he murmurred to himself.
Seeing that the Bluefin was not in imminent peril, he checked the sensors to get a sense of their surroundings. He frowned at the readings. That doens't make sense! he thought.
According to the sensors, they were 8.2 light minutes from their previous location. And, there was no sign of either the Backroad or the Janus. For that matter, there were no traces of the late, lamented Bird of Prey.
"Did we make a warp jump?" he asked the room.
* * *
Engineering
Gralt forced himself away from the body of CPO Brundy and moved stiffly toward the main Engineering panel. He expelled a breath of relief when he saw that the warp-core was undamaged and all major systems were intact. He ran the emergency sub-routine check, which revealed it was safe to bring the mains on-line. He reached up and pushed the four, huge switches back into place.
A low hum and the increased level of light told him that things were working. Maybe not to his high standards, but enough to get by. He tapped his combadge.
"Gralt to sickbay."
"Sickbay - Corpsman Rice, go ahead, Commander." Gralt thought her voice sounded tight and strained.
"I'm afraid I have a casualty in engineering, Rice. Chief Brundy is dead."
A pause. "I'm sorry, Commander. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just bruised up. Where's Doc Castille?"
"On his way to the bridge - it sounds bad up there!" Gralt heard a definite tremor in her voice this time.
"Frak!" he muttered. "Okay, Rice. No rush down here," he glanced at the prone form of Brundy. "The chief's not going anywhere."
* * *
Bridge
Akinola used the multi-scanner from the first aid kit to check Vashtee's vital signs. Her pulse and respiration were worrisome, but at least her heart was beating and she was breathing. He was pretty certain she was going into shock. He removed a tiny square from the kit, pulled off a corner, and the square expanded into a pre-warmed blanket. He placed it gently over the young woman, feeling otherwise helpless.
"Skipper? You okay?" Brin was leaning over them, a prominent bruise had nearly closed his left eye.
"I'm okay," Akinola rasped. "Vashtee's in bad shape." He tried to take a deep breath, but stabbing pain grabbed him. "Check on the others, Solly - I've called sickbay."
Brin moved around the front of the helm where Bralus was trying to sit up.
"Take it easy, Mr. Bralus! Help's on the way."
Bralus merely nodded and lay back on the deck. Solly moved toward the tactical station but froze as he saw the crumpled form of Inga Strauss. He blinked and covered the distance in three quick strides.
Strauss was unconscious. A trickle of blood flowed from her right ear and her nose. Brin checked her pulse - at least it seemed strong and her breathing was steady.
The turbo-lift doors slid open and Corpsman Sanders and Dr. Castille hurried onto the bridge. Castille quickly surveyed the scene. He directed Sanders toward Solly and Inga, while he quickly moved toward Akinola. Castille grimaced as he saw Vashtee's face. He popped open his medical tri-corder and frowned.
"Internal bleeding . . . heart, lungs and liver seem okay . . . looks like the pulmonary vein was nicked, though . . . her eyes . . ." He snapped shut the tri-corder, not completing the sentence. Pulling out a hypo-spray, he made an adjustment to the dosage and applied it to her neck, the contents flowing in with a faint hiss.
"Doc!" called Sanders from across the bridge, "Commander Strauss has a skull fracture and sub-dural bleeding!"
"And I've got a tear in the pulmonary vein on Vashtee," Castille answered. He tapped his combadge. "Transporter room - anyone there?"
The voice of Chief Deryx replied, "Deryx here, who it this?"
"Doctor Castille. Chief, are the transporters working? We've got two we need to beam from the bridge directly to sick bay!"
"Wait one." There was a pause as Deryx checked the transporter console. "We're good to go, Doc. Give me a target."
"Just beam everyone off the bridge, Chief, they're all hurt."
* * *
Auxiliary Control
Satisfied that the ship was stable and secure, Lt. Fralk tried to contact the bridge.
"Auxiliary Control to bridge,"
There was no immediate response. Fralk was about to repeat his call, when the Captain contacted him.
"Akinola to Lt. Fralk, ship's status, please." The Captain's voice sounded reedy and thin.
Fralk frowned in conceren but responded. "We took a pounding but all major systems are functioning. The mains are back on-line, life support is good, shields are still holding. We'll have to replace some hull plates and clean up inside, but we're holding together, sir."
"Good," a reedy breath, "Right now, you've got the conn, Lieutenant. The bridge is a mess, so we'll need you at Auxiliary Control for now." Another breath. "Send out a distress signal, we could use some help." A longer pause. "How did the Janus and the Backroad fair?"
"Sir, that's the wierd part. We're over eight light minutes from our previous coordinates. There's no sign of either of those ships."
Another pause. "Did we go to warp?"
"It wasn;t us, Captain. Gralt had the mains off-line. It had to be the Janus."
A longer silence. "I'll be in sickbay if you need me. Akinola, out."
Fralk activated the subspace transmitter. "Any ship, this is the USS Bluefin. We are in distress and request assistance. Repeat, any ship, this is the USS Bluefin, we are in distress and request assistance."
A response was nearly immediate. "Bluefin this is the USS Growler. We have you on long-range scanners and are en route. What's the nature of your emergency?"
"Growler, we were caught in the blast wave from a warp core explosion. We have injuries and require medical assistance. Our bridge is heavily damaged but otherwise, we're in pretty good shape."
"Understood, Bluefin. We will have medical teams ready to beam over. Our ETA is one hour, twenty minutes."
"Acknowledged, Growler. We appreciate the help."
"How's Captain Akinola? Was he hurt?"
"I just spoke to him. He's in sickbay, but he's alert and giving orders."
There was a chuckle over the channel. "I imagine he could give orders in his sleep. Who am I speaking with?"
"Lieutenant Fralk. I'm sitting in Auxiliary Control."
"Copy that, Lieutenant. I'm Commander Brennan, ship's XO. Hang in there - we're on the way."
"Just be careful of the ion storm, sir. It's a ball-buster!"
Another chuckle. "You might want to check your sensors again, Lieutenant. That storm has dissipated. And you're almost in clear space anyway."
Fralk checked the sensors again. "Huh! How about that!" he muttered.
"What ship blew up, Lieutenant?"
Fralk sighed, "Sir, that's a long story . . ."
* * *
Chapter Eleven
Stardate 54070.4 (27 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
Blinding white light filled the main viewscreen on the Bluefin's bridge, dazzling the crew before the screen compensated and dimmed.
Akinola slapped the intra-ship comm button. "All hands! Brace for impact!" He tightly grasped the armrests of the command chair, unconsciously bracing himself for the imminent blast wave.
* * *
In sickbay, Dr. Castille was shouting orders to his staff. "Secure the patients and hang on!" He reached across the still unconscious form of Delta Simms and tightly gripped the rails on her bed.
* * *
Moving with astounding speed and agility, Commander Gralt raced to the main engineering panel and pulled four large handles, taking the mains off-line and activating a containment field around the warp core.
* * *
In transporter room two, Lt. Bane had not cleared the platform when Akinola's voice boomed through the ship.
"Get down!" shouted Bane, as he placed his arms around the still-unconsious Carmine and Shonda.
* * *
Stardate 54070.4 (27 January 2377)
SS Janus
Molari Badlands
Seated at Auxiliary Control, deep within the heart of the Janus, Garth of Izar remotely activated the transporter, then watched in awe on the viewscreen as the Jhar'toq went nova. His finger was poised steadily over a control on the helm as he waited . . .
* * *
IMPACT
* * *
USS Bluefin
Bridge
It felt like they had rammed into a solid wall.
Everyone on the bridge was ejected from their seat. The lights blinked once, twice and everything went dark - the only illumination provided by the sparks from over-loaded LCARS panels.
Akinola felt himself move upward, out of his chair. He absently wondered if the gravity coils had failed. Then, he awkwardly hit the deck - his breath exploding from him in a painful bark, the wind knocked out of him.
Strauss was launched from her station, her body slamming against the forward bulkhead. She slid to the deck, limp and still.
Lt. (j.g.) Bralus somersaulted over the helm console, landing on his back. This was fortunate as his board exploded in a shower of lethal shards.
Ensign Vashtee was not as fortunate as Bralus. Her board also exploded, sending her flying backward. Numerous shards slashed her face and torso. She landed awkwardly on the deck in a pool of spreading blood.
Senior Chief Brin had wisely hit the deck when Akinola had called out his warning. Even so, he was tossed hard against the pit rail, his head hitting one of the stanchions. He struggled to remain conscious, but darkness overwhelmed him.
* * *
Sickbay
The lights flickered and failed as the deck pitched wildly. Dr. Castille held tightly to the rails of Simms' bed, even as his feet flew out from beneath him. He heard equipment crashing and a scream of pain across the room.
As quickly as the violent motion began, it stopped. Emergency lights flickered on. Several more objects hit the deck, not as heavy this time.
"Is everyone alright?" Castille called in a shaky voice.
* * *
Engineering
Gralt blinked and shook his head. Something heavy was lying on top of him. He gingerly moved his arms and legs - at least they still worked. He tried to move, but whatever was on top of him weighed a good bit. He squirmed, trying to gain purchase on the object, and realized that it was a person.
"Hey! Whoever you are! How about getting off me?" He said. But even as he spoke, he felt the warm slickness of blood on the deck and on the figure.
The emergency lights came on, allowing Gralt to survey his surroundings. He struggled against the heavy figure, wriggling free and knelt to see who had fallen atop him.
Chief Brundy stared up at him with one unseeing eye, a shard of metal protruded from the left eye socket.
"Aw, Chief," Gralt whispered, sagging onto the deck, "Aw frak, no."
* * *
Bridge
The emergency lights came on, filling the bridge with an eerie redness. Tendrils of smoke drifted from multiple panels, adding a gray fog to the atmosphere. Sparks still geysered from the helm.
Akinola struggled to catch his breath. His side burned like fire. Probably didn't do those gimpy ribs any good, he thought. The smell of burning transtators tickled his nose, causing him to cough, which intensified the pain in his side.
Painfully, he staggered upright to survey the damage. He was momentarily puzzled to notice that all the stations were vacant. Then, he saw the rest of the bridge crew scattered across the deck, like broken discarded dolls.
He tapped his combadge, "Bridge . . . to sickbay," he wheezed, gasping painfully for enough air to speak. "Medical . . . emergency." He staggered backward, landing in his command chair. Then, steeling himself against the pain, he forced himself to his feet and moved toward Ensign Vashtee. He dropped to his knees beside her, his mouth dry with apprehension.
"Maya!" he whispered in a hoarse croak. Her face was streaked with blood. He placed his fingers alongside her neck. Yes! There was a pulse, but it was weak and irregular.
He staggered to the starboard bulkhead to get the first aid kit.
* * *
Sickbay
Over the sickbay intercom, Castille heard a voice he almost didn't recognize. "Bridge . . . to sickbay . . . medical . . . emergency."
Castille shed his shock like removing a soiled shirt. "Sanders! Get to the bridge, stat! I'll be right behind you." He looked around sickbay at the patients. It appeared they had weathered the blast fairly well, their beds providing adequate restraint and protection. He saw Rice leaning against a bulkhead, her face nearly white with pain. She was cradling her left arm which was obviously broken.
"Computer - activate EMH program."
Immediately, a bald-pated EMH Mark I shimmered into view. "Please state the nature of the emergency," he said in a calm, confident tone.
"Let's just say things have gone to Hell in a hand-basket!" replied Castille as he grabbed a med-kit. "See to Corpsman Rice there - I need her functioning ASAP. Splint her arm and give her something for pain, but I need her head clear! And check on the other patients, too."
"Splint her arm?" The EMH sniffed in an offended manner. "Have we traveled back to the dark ages?"
"Just get on it!" growled Castille, "Or I'll trade you in on a newer model and you can spend the rest of your existence mining asteroids!"
"Well!" responded the EMH with raised eyebrows.
* * *
Auxiliary Control
Lt. Fralk shook the cobwebs from his head and tried to focus on the status panels before him. He frowned in consternation at the sheer number of flashing red lights, all clamoring for attention. He began to run through his check-list.
"Life support . . . okay!" He felt a bit of the fear ease at that. "Hull integrity . . . " He frowned as he noted several small hull breaches, primarily on the saucer, where hull plates had twisted. Emergency force fields kept in the atmosphere.
"Power . . ." At the moment, they were operating on emergency power, but the engineering panel showed that the warp-core was intact, just off-line. He blew out a relieved breath. "Nice work, Gralt!" he murmurred to himself.
Seeing that the Bluefin was not in imminent peril, he checked the sensors to get a sense of their surroundings. He frowned at the readings. That doens't make sense! he thought.
According to the sensors, they were 8.2 light minutes from their previous location. And, there was no sign of either the Backroad or the Janus. For that matter, there were no traces of the late, lamented Bird of Prey.
"Did we make a warp jump?" he asked the room.
* * *
Engineering
Gralt forced himself away from the body of CPO Brundy and moved stiffly toward the main Engineering panel. He expelled a breath of relief when he saw that the warp-core was undamaged and all major systems were intact. He ran the emergency sub-routine check, which revealed it was safe to bring the mains on-line. He reached up and pushed the four, huge switches back into place.
A low hum and the increased level of light told him that things were working. Maybe not to his high standards, but enough to get by. He tapped his combadge.
"Gralt to sickbay."
"Sickbay - Corpsman Rice, go ahead, Commander." Gralt thought her voice sounded tight and strained.
"I'm afraid I have a casualty in engineering, Rice. Chief Brundy is dead."
A pause. "I'm sorry, Commander. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just bruised up. Where's Doc Castille?"
"On his way to the bridge - it sounds bad up there!" Gralt heard a definite tremor in her voice this time.
"Frak!" he muttered. "Okay, Rice. No rush down here," he glanced at the prone form of Brundy. "The chief's not going anywhere."
* * *
Bridge
Akinola used the multi-scanner from the first aid kit to check Vashtee's vital signs. Her pulse and respiration were worrisome, but at least her heart was beating and she was breathing. He was pretty certain she was going into shock. He removed a tiny square from the kit, pulled off a corner, and the square expanded into a pre-warmed blanket. He placed it gently over the young woman, feeling otherwise helpless.
"Skipper? You okay?" Brin was leaning over them, a prominent bruise had nearly closed his left eye.
"I'm okay," Akinola rasped. "Vashtee's in bad shape." He tried to take a deep breath, but stabbing pain grabbed him. "Check on the others, Solly - I've called sickbay."
Brin moved around the front of the helm where Bralus was trying to sit up.
"Take it easy, Mr. Bralus! Help's on the way."
Bralus merely nodded and lay back on the deck. Solly moved toward the tactical station but froze as he saw the crumpled form of Inga Strauss. He blinked and covered the distance in three quick strides.
Strauss was unconscious. A trickle of blood flowed from her right ear and her nose. Brin checked her pulse - at least it seemed strong and her breathing was steady.
The turbo-lift doors slid open and Corpsman Sanders and Dr. Castille hurried onto the bridge. Castille quickly surveyed the scene. He directed Sanders toward Solly and Inga, while he quickly moved toward Akinola. Castille grimaced as he saw Vashtee's face. He popped open his medical tri-corder and frowned.
"Internal bleeding . . . heart, lungs and liver seem okay . . . looks like the pulmonary vein was nicked, though . . . her eyes . . ." He snapped shut the tri-corder, not completing the sentence. Pulling out a hypo-spray, he made an adjustment to the dosage and applied it to her neck, the contents flowing in with a faint hiss.
"Doc!" called Sanders from across the bridge, "Commander Strauss has a skull fracture and sub-dural bleeding!"
"And I've got a tear in the pulmonary vein on Vashtee," Castille answered. He tapped his combadge. "Transporter room - anyone there?"
The voice of Chief Deryx replied, "Deryx here, who it this?"
"Doctor Castille. Chief, are the transporters working? We've got two we need to beam from the bridge directly to sick bay!"
"Wait one." There was a pause as Deryx checked the transporter console. "We're good to go, Doc. Give me a target."
"Just beam everyone off the bridge, Chief, they're all hurt."
* * *
Auxiliary Control
Satisfied that the ship was stable and secure, Lt. Fralk tried to contact the bridge.
"Auxiliary Control to bridge,"
There was no immediate response. Fralk was about to repeat his call, when the Captain contacted him.
"Akinola to Lt. Fralk, ship's status, please." The Captain's voice sounded reedy and thin.
Fralk frowned in conceren but responded. "We took a pounding but all major systems are functioning. The mains are back on-line, life support is good, shields are still holding. We'll have to replace some hull plates and clean up inside, but we're holding together, sir."
"Good," a reedy breath, "Right now, you've got the conn, Lieutenant. The bridge is a mess, so we'll need you at Auxiliary Control for now." Another breath. "Send out a distress signal, we could use some help." A longer pause. "How did the Janus and the Backroad fair?"
"Sir, that's the wierd part. We're over eight light minutes from our previous coordinates. There's no sign of either of those ships."
Another pause. "Did we go to warp?"
"It wasn;t us, Captain. Gralt had the mains off-line. It had to be the Janus."
A longer silence. "I'll be in sickbay if you need me. Akinola, out."
Fralk activated the subspace transmitter. "Any ship, this is the USS Bluefin. We are in distress and request assistance. Repeat, any ship, this is the USS Bluefin, we are in distress and request assistance."
A response was nearly immediate. "Bluefin this is the USS Growler. We have you on long-range scanners and are en route. What's the nature of your emergency?"
"Growler, we were caught in the blast wave from a warp core explosion. We have injuries and require medical assistance. Our bridge is heavily damaged but otherwise, we're in pretty good shape."
"Understood, Bluefin. We will have medical teams ready to beam over. Our ETA is one hour, twenty minutes."
"Acknowledged, Growler. We appreciate the help."
"How's Captain Akinola? Was he hurt?"
"I just spoke to him. He's in sickbay, but he's alert and giving orders."
There was a chuckle over the channel. "I imagine he could give orders in his sleep. Who am I speaking with?"
"Lieutenant Fralk. I'm sitting in Auxiliary Control."
"Copy that, Lieutenant. I'm Commander Brennan, ship's XO. Hang in there - we're on the way."
"Just be careful of the ion storm, sir. It's a ball-buster!"
Another chuckle. "You might want to check your sensors again, Lieutenant. That storm has dissipated. And you're almost in clear space anyway."
Fralk checked the sensors again. "Huh! How about that!" he muttered.
"What ship blew up, Lieutenant?"
Fralk sighed, "Sir, that's a long story . . ."
* * *
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Holy crap!
Bluefin can take a beating and keep on ticking. Unfortunately, her crew is more fragile, as this latest chapter proves. When you get hit so hard there's nothing left to do but pick up the pieces on the bridge, you can be sure you're officially having a bad day. It's an excellent character study in how your people react to a worst-case scenario, and the crew of the Bluefin shined.
Now where the hell did Garth and the Backroad get to?
Holy crap!
Bluefin can take a beating and keep on ticking. Unfortunately, her crew is more fragile, as this latest chapter proves. When you get hit so hard there's nothing left to do but pick up the pieces on the bridge, you can be sure you're officially having a bad day. It's an excellent character study in how your people react to a worst-case scenario, and the crew of the Bluefin shined.Now where the hell did Garth and the Backroad get to?
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Those Albacore-class cutters can take one hell of a beating. Choq should be glad he's dead, Akinola would make him wish Fek'lhr was his daddy.
As for Garth, that SOB obviously still has a few tricks up his sleeve.
Those Albacore-class cutters can take one hell of a beating. Choq should be glad he's dead, Akinola would make him wish Fek'lhr was his daddy.
As for Garth, that SOB obviously still has a few tricks up his sleeve.
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
I guess Xeris doesn't like Garth too much. Personally, I think he saved the ship. That was almost calming after the last two very turbulent segments. I mourn for the Chief, though. I really liked the bit about the pre-warmed blanket. Nice attention to detail.
I guess Xeris doesn't like Garth too much. Personally, I think he saved the ship. That was almost calming after the last two very turbulent segments. I mourn for the Chief, though. I really liked the bit about the pre-warmed blanket. Nice attention to detail.
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
I have nothing against Garth, SOB is a term of endearment in this instance, like McCoy's "you green-blooded [insert epithet]"
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
A lot of question here. But mostly one: What the hell happened? I guess we're about to find out.
A lot of good stuff here. Nice touch on the EMH, his first appearance on Bluefin if I'm not mistaken. Also great work on showing us the fast no-nonsense response from everyone on Bluefin after taking such a big hit. These guys are professionals through and through.
Really looking forward to more.
A lot of question here. But mostly one: What the hell happened? I guess we're about to find out.
A lot of good stuff here. Nice touch on the EMH, his first appearance on Bluefin if I'm not mistaken. Also great work on showing us the fast no-nonsense response from everyone on Bluefin after taking such a big hit. These guys are professionals through and through.
Really looking forward to more.
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Man, oh man, oh man--good stuff here! How did the Bluefin get to where it had gotten after the explosion, where is Garth and his people, and finally, will Castille trade the EMH on a newer, spiffier model? Inquiring readers want to know! A very good and tension filled segment that shows the wisdom of installing the EMH--although ol' Joe will never admit it. And as for the Bluefin and her crew: Like the legendary Timex watch, they take a licking and keep on ticking!
Man, oh man, oh man--good stuff here! How did the Bluefin get to where it had gotten after the explosion, where is Garth and his people, and finally, will Castille trade the EMH on a newer, spiffier model? Inquiring readers want to know!
A very good and tension filled segment that shows the wisdom of installing the EMH--although ol' Joe will never admit it. And as for the Bluefin and her crew: Like the legendary Timex watch, they take a licking and keep on ticking!
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Chapter Twelve
Stardate 54070.6 (27 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
Commander Brennan was as good as his word. Less than an hour and twenty minutes later, the Bluefin's sister ship, the USS Growler, arrived on station. The Albacore-class cutter took up a position bow-on to the battered Bluefin.
In Auxiliary control, the face of a dark-skinned Vulcan woman wearing captain's pips appeared on Lt. Fralk's screen.
"Bluefin, this is Captain T'San of the Growler. We have medical and engineering teams standing by to beam over. Are you prepared to receive us?"
"Captain, this is Lt. Fralk. That's affirmative, ma'am. We request you beam one medical team to sickbay and one to the hangar deck. Our Chief Engineer, Commander Gralt, has requested any engineers meet him directly on the bridge."
Captain T'San nodded slightly. "Understood, Lieutenant. Our teams will beam over immediately. Please contact me if you require further assistance. The USS Adair is also en route - their ETA is four hours."
Fralk managed to keep a straight face and said, "Thank you, ma'am." To himself, he thought, "Captain A's gonna get his butt chewed out when Captain Gunderson gets here!"
T'San's eyebrow rose slightly, as if she had read Fralk's mind. "Captain Gunderson was most . . . insistent, that she help with the operation."
This time, Fralk did grin. "Yes ma'am - I have no doubt."
"We will be standing by. Growler, out."
* * *
Captain Akinola sat on a stool, blearily watching the controlled chaos of sickbay. Sanderson and Rice moved quickly from patient to patient - even the EMH remained busy. Dr. Castille was in the surgical suite, attending to Ensign Vashtee.
The EMH approached Akinola, a medical tri-corder in hand. Akinola glared at him, but refrained from comment as the holographic physician scanned him.
The EMH folded the tri-corder with a snap of the wrist. "You have torn cartilage in your rib-cage and a bruised lung, Captain. Fortunately, you did not break any ribs - this time." There was a note of reproach in the EMH's voice.
"Just take care of it," wheezed Akinola, just as four figures materialized in Sick Bay. Three Border Service corpsmen and a short, Asian woman in a blue medical uniform materialized. She wore three pips on her collar and a frown on her face."
"Who's in charge here?" she demanded, a note of absolute authority in her voice.
"I'm Captain Akinola . . ." Joseph began.
"Not you!" she said, dismissively. "Who's the CMO?"
The EMH stepped forward. "Dr. Castille is in surgery at the moment. May I show you the triage list?"
Akinola slumped against the wall and muttered to himself, "I hate doctors . . ."
* * *
Lt. Sarnek heard the distincitve sound of transporter effect, and turned to see four figures appear on the hangar deck. A tall, Andorian CPO walked forward.
"Lieutenant, I'm Chief Corpsman Lishdar, where do you need us?"
Sarnek pointed forward. "We've set up cots for the injured on the other side of the Star Stallions. Most are from the SS Janus. None of the injuries appear life-threatening, but I have no doubt our Corpsmen would welcome your help."
Lishdar nodded and turned to the other corpsmen from the Growler. "You heard the Lieutenant - grab your gear and make yourselves useful."
* * *
Akinola had to admit he felt much better. The EMH had pumped him full of anti-inflammatory drugs with some pain-killers. He was finally able to breathe deeply without pain, although admittedly, his entire side was numb.
He looked up to see Lt. Bane enter Sick Bay, still wearing his EVA suit. Bane's face was tight with worry, his hair was askew - tendrils plastered to his forehead by sweat. Akinola stood and intercepted the young officer.
"Lieutenant . . ."
"Sir, how is she? I heard . . ." Bane's voice trailed off.
Akinola gently placed his hands on Bane's shoulders. "Easy, son. Dr. Han from the Growler is with her right now. She's in good hands."
"I want to see her." It wasn't a request.
Akinola gazed into the scared young man's eyes for a moment before nodding. "Come on." He led Bane back into Sick Bay.
* * *
Lt. Commander Gralt, Senior Chief Brin and Lt. Commander Xorthan from the Growler, stared at the carnage on the Bluefin's bridge. The harsh stink of burnt materials and fire suppressant hung in the air, burning their nostrils and their eyes.
The scaly Rigellian, Xorthan, made a clicking noise of sympathy with his beak. "You've got a mess here, Gralt."
Gralt gave the Chief Engineer of the Growler a baleful look. "Fornicating deities! Xorthan - ya think? I'm so glad for your expertise - we wouldn't have been able to figure that out on our own, would we Senior Chief?"
Xorthan opened his beak wider revealing a sharp, black tongue, then snapped it closed again. "Frak you, Gralt!" he replied with a gurgling chuckle. "So what do you think? Repair or replace?"
Gralt sighed. "It might be easier to drop in a new bridge module, but I'm hearing rumors that Fleet Ops might start retiring any heavily damaged Albacores. I think I'd rather patch her up myself instead."
The Rigellian bobbed his head in agreement. "Okay. Where do you want my people?"
"Have them pull all the LCARS panels and check the integrity of the conduits. I'll have my people fabricate any new consoles we need and get all the crapped-out stuff to the 'cyclers."
Xorthan turned to his engineering team. "You heard Commander Gralt - get to it!"
* * *
Dr. Han glared at Akinola and Bane when they entered the curtained cubicle where Inga lay. Her face softened, however, when she saw the look of anguish on Bane's face.
The top of Inga's head was hidden beneath an arch-shaped piece of equipment. Blue light escaped from the beneath of the device, creating mysterious shadows on Inga's face. Monitors over her bed beeped softly, with a reassuring rhythm.
Nigel stepped forward and took her left hand in both of his. He leaned over and gently kissed her hand before carefully lowering it back to the bed. He maintained his grip on that hand as he settled onto a bed-side stool. His eyes were riveted on her serene face.
"How is she?" he asked, quietly.
Dr. Han glanced at Akinola, then at Lt. Bane. "She's stable, Lieutenant. She suffered a skull fracture and some inter-cranial bleeding. We've repaired the fracture and staunched the blood flow, but there is some swelling to the brain."
Bane swallowed. "What . . . How long for her to recover?" he asked in that same, quiet voice.
Han grimaced and again glanced at Akinola. "I can't say yet. With a brain injury we must be cautious. As I said, we've repaired the obvious damage - now her body must do its part. That takes time." Her voice was calm and sympathetic, quite a contrast to her initial demeanor in Sick Bay. "Would you like to sit with her, Lieutenant?"
Bane simply nodded. Dr. Han looked questioningly at Akinola who nodded in return. "Very well. You may talk to her if you wish. It is quite possible that she hears us, even in a comatose state."
Akinola placed a hand on Bane's shoulder. "Take some time with her, Nigel. When you can, get changed and something to eat. For now, Lt. Fralk is acting XO and you're my second officer. You can relieve Fralk in Auxiliary Control later."
Bane nodded. "Thank you, Captain."
The Captain gave Bane's shoulder a squeeze and he left the cubicle. He saw Dr. Castille exit the surgical suite, peeling off a blood-spattered surgical gown. His face was drawn and haggard, dark circles under his eyes made him look older. The Doctor slumped down and sat on the same stool where Akinola had perched. He looked up when he saw Akinola approach.
"Doc? . . ." Akinola began.
A small smile formed on the Doctor's face. "Damn, I'm good," he said, in a weary but satisfied tone.
The Captain relaxed slightly. "I take it the surgery went well?"
Castille leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Oh yeah!" He breathed out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. "The repair to the pulmonary vein was text-book perfect! And her eyes . . ." He paused a moment. "I have to admit, I was really concerned about her eyes, but by God, her vision will be better now than before! I was able to correct a tiny bit of astigmatism in her left eye." With his eyes still closed, he shook his head slowly side to side and chuckled softly. "I wish I had time for a drink!"
Akinola smiled. "Tell you what, Doc. When we get back to Echo, I'm buying."
Castille took a deep breath, and yawned expansively. "I'll hold you to that."
* * *
For the third time, Lt. Fralk ran through the sensor logs from just prior to the warp-core explosion to several minutes past. He frowned in puzzlement each time. It just didn't make sense!
The door to Auxiliary Control slid open and Lt. Sarnek entered, carrying a tray.
"I thought you might be hungry, so I took the liberty of bringing you food." Sarnek placed the tray on an adjacent console.
"May the Other bless you with seven wives!" said Fralk happily as he lifted the cover off the plate. A strong, sour smell filled the space. Fralk's grin widened to that rather disconcerting degree that only Denobulans can manage. "Kimchi! Bless Cookie's cholesterol-filled heart!"
Sarnek managed to not wrinkle his nose. "I must admit, I find your affection for this Terran . . . 'food' . . . to be puzzling."
Fralk took a large bite of the spicy, fermented cabbage. He closed his eyes in delight. "Oh yeah, that's good!" he chewed appreciatively. "I first tried it at a Korean restaurant on Starbase 315. It's very similar to a popular Denobulan dish." His eyes fell on the display over which he had been working. "Say Sarnek, since you're here, how about taking a look at the sensor log - It just doesn't make any sense to me."
Sarnek seated himself in an adjacent chair and ran through the readout. After several minutes, he leaned back, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" asked Fralk.
Sarnek's eyebrow twitched. "Perhaps. If I am reading this correctly, it appears that the Janus somehow beamed something off the Backroad, then jumped to warp mere nano-seconds after the blast wave hit us. Apparently, our proximity to the Janus' warp field hurled us 8.213 light minutes from our original position."
* * *
Lt. Commander Delta Simms felt like someone had shoved her out an airlock. Her head pounded, her chest ached and her dry mouth tasted like a swamp. If I hurt like this, I'm either still alive or I've died and gone to Hell, she thought.
Her eyelids seemed sticky, but with effort, she forced them open. Her vision was blurry, but she could tell she was in Sick Bay. Then, someone appeared over her bed. She squinted, trying to focus her eyes.
Octavius Castille grinned at her. He looks exhausted! thought Delta. She cleared her throat. "Could I have some water?" she croaked.
Castille disappeared from her view momentarily, then returned with a cup of ice water with a straw. Delta sipped the water greedily.
"Easy! Not too much too quick - it'll make you sick to your stomach." He pulled the cup out of her reach. She blinked again, her vision clearing.
"What happened?" she asked.
He favored her with a sad smile. "A lot's happened since you left the building. As for you, you took a nasty shock while in the Jeffrey's tube. You gave us all quite a scare!"
She frowned. "I can't remember that - last I remember, Chief Brundy gave me a boost into the tube. He must have pulled me out."
Something flickered across Castille's face. "Yes, that's right. Listen, you need to rest . . ."
"I really need to thank Chief Brundy for saving my butt . . . Guess I should have listened to him in the first place."
"Sure, sure. Look, I've got a room full of patients. I'll see you again in a bit."
She smiled. "See that you do!"
* * *
Captain Akinola joined Lt. Fralk and Lt. Sarnek in Auxiliary control. Fralk was about to report their findings, when they were interrupted by an in-coming hail.
Bluefin, this is the USS Adair - respond please.
A rueful smile formed on Akinola's face. "She found out, huh?"
Fralk gave him a sympathetic look. " 'Fraid so, Captain. They made good time getting here - we weren't expecting them for another 20 minutes."
The Captain shook his head and responded to the hail. "Adair, this is the Bluefin, go ahead."
The small viewscreen came to life, revealing the face of Captain Margaret Gunderson. Gunderson and Akinola had a long and occasionally intimate history. They still had deep feelings for one another, though they no longer had a "formal" relationship. Gunderson's attractive face was a mixture of concern and relief. She absently tucked a length of chestnut brown hair behind an ear.
"Joseph? Are you alright? What's your status?"
"We're banged up but in one piece, Marge. Captain T'San and the Growler are helping out. You didn't have to . . ."
"Like Hell!" she interrupted. "We'll be on station in ten minutes, then I'm beaming over to see for myself. I've got teams ready to help wherever you need them."
Joseph chuckled. "Okay, okay! But I warn you, it's already crowded over here. We've got more than 50 personnel from the SS Janus on board."
"We'll squeeze in. Gunderson, out."
"You handled that well, sir," said Fralk, with a straight face.
"Up yours, Lieutenant," Akinola said, grinning. "Now, what was it in the sensor logs you wanted to show me?"
* * *
Chapter Twelve
Stardate 54070.6 (27 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
Commander Brennan was as good as his word. Less than an hour and twenty minutes later, the Bluefin's sister ship, the USS Growler, arrived on station. The Albacore-class cutter took up a position bow-on to the battered Bluefin.
In Auxiliary control, the face of a dark-skinned Vulcan woman wearing captain's pips appeared on Lt. Fralk's screen.
"Bluefin, this is Captain T'San of the Growler. We have medical and engineering teams standing by to beam over. Are you prepared to receive us?"
"Captain, this is Lt. Fralk. That's affirmative, ma'am. We request you beam one medical team to sickbay and one to the hangar deck. Our Chief Engineer, Commander Gralt, has requested any engineers meet him directly on the bridge."
Captain T'San nodded slightly. "Understood, Lieutenant. Our teams will beam over immediately. Please contact me if you require further assistance. The USS Adair is also en route - their ETA is four hours."
Fralk managed to keep a straight face and said, "Thank you, ma'am." To himself, he thought, "Captain A's gonna get his butt chewed out when Captain Gunderson gets here!"
T'San's eyebrow rose slightly, as if she had read Fralk's mind. "Captain Gunderson was most . . . insistent, that she help with the operation."
This time, Fralk did grin. "Yes ma'am - I have no doubt."
"We will be standing by. Growler, out."
* * *
Captain Akinola sat on a stool, blearily watching the controlled chaos of sickbay. Sanderson and Rice moved quickly from patient to patient - even the EMH remained busy. Dr. Castille was in the surgical suite, attending to Ensign Vashtee.
The EMH approached Akinola, a medical tri-corder in hand. Akinola glared at him, but refrained from comment as the holographic physician scanned him.
The EMH folded the tri-corder with a snap of the wrist. "You have torn cartilage in your rib-cage and a bruised lung, Captain. Fortunately, you did not break any ribs - this time." There was a note of reproach in the EMH's voice.
"Just take care of it," wheezed Akinola, just as four figures materialized in Sick Bay. Three Border Service corpsmen and a short, Asian woman in a blue medical uniform materialized. She wore three pips on her collar and a frown on her face."
"Who's in charge here?" she demanded, a note of absolute authority in her voice.
"I'm Captain Akinola . . ." Joseph began.
"Not you!" she said, dismissively. "Who's the CMO?"
The EMH stepped forward. "Dr. Castille is in surgery at the moment. May I show you the triage list?"
Akinola slumped against the wall and muttered to himself, "I hate doctors . . ."
* * *
Lt. Sarnek heard the distincitve sound of transporter effect, and turned to see four figures appear on the hangar deck. A tall, Andorian CPO walked forward.
"Lieutenant, I'm Chief Corpsman Lishdar, where do you need us?"
Sarnek pointed forward. "We've set up cots for the injured on the other side of the Star Stallions. Most are from the SS Janus. None of the injuries appear life-threatening, but I have no doubt our Corpsmen would welcome your help."
Lishdar nodded and turned to the other corpsmen from the Growler. "You heard the Lieutenant - grab your gear and make yourselves useful."
* * *
Akinola had to admit he felt much better. The EMH had pumped him full of anti-inflammatory drugs with some pain-killers. He was finally able to breathe deeply without pain, although admittedly, his entire side was numb.
He looked up to see Lt. Bane enter Sick Bay, still wearing his EVA suit. Bane's face was tight with worry, his hair was askew - tendrils plastered to his forehead by sweat. Akinola stood and intercepted the young officer.
"Lieutenant . . ."
"Sir, how is she? I heard . . ." Bane's voice trailed off.
Akinola gently placed his hands on Bane's shoulders. "Easy, son. Dr. Han from the Growler is with her right now. She's in good hands."
"I want to see her." It wasn't a request.
Akinola gazed into the scared young man's eyes for a moment before nodding. "Come on." He led Bane back into Sick Bay.
* * *
Lt. Commander Gralt, Senior Chief Brin and Lt. Commander Xorthan from the Growler, stared at the carnage on the Bluefin's bridge. The harsh stink of burnt materials and fire suppressant hung in the air, burning their nostrils and their eyes.
The scaly Rigellian, Xorthan, made a clicking noise of sympathy with his beak. "You've got a mess here, Gralt."
Gralt gave the Chief Engineer of the Growler a baleful look. "Fornicating deities! Xorthan - ya think? I'm so glad for your expertise - we wouldn't have been able to figure that out on our own, would we Senior Chief?"
Xorthan opened his beak wider revealing a sharp, black tongue, then snapped it closed again. "Frak you, Gralt!" he replied with a gurgling chuckle. "So what do you think? Repair or replace?"
Gralt sighed. "It might be easier to drop in a new bridge module, but I'm hearing rumors that Fleet Ops might start retiring any heavily damaged Albacores. I think I'd rather patch her up myself instead."
The Rigellian bobbed his head in agreement. "Okay. Where do you want my people?"
"Have them pull all the LCARS panels and check the integrity of the conduits. I'll have my people fabricate any new consoles we need and get all the crapped-out stuff to the 'cyclers."
Xorthan turned to his engineering team. "You heard Commander Gralt - get to it!"
* * *
Dr. Han glared at Akinola and Bane when they entered the curtained cubicle where Inga lay. Her face softened, however, when she saw the look of anguish on Bane's face.
The top of Inga's head was hidden beneath an arch-shaped piece of equipment. Blue light escaped from the beneath of the device, creating mysterious shadows on Inga's face. Monitors over her bed beeped softly, with a reassuring rhythm.
Nigel stepped forward and took her left hand in both of his. He leaned over and gently kissed her hand before carefully lowering it back to the bed. He maintained his grip on that hand as he settled onto a bed-side stool. His eyes were riveted on her serene face.
"How is she?" he asked, quietly.
Dr. Han glanced at Akinola, then at Lt. Bane. "She's stable, Lieutenant. She suffered a skull fracture and some inter-cranial bleeding. We've repaired the fracture and staunched the blood flow, but there is some swelling to the brain."
Bane swallowed. "What . . . How long for her to recover?" he asked in that same, quiet voice.
Han grimaced and again glanced at Akinola. "I can't say yet. With a brain injury we must be cautious. As I said, we've repaired the obvious damage - now her body must do its part. That takes time." Her voice was calm and sympathetic, quite a contrast to her initial demeanor in Sick Bay. "Would you like to sit with her, Lieutenant?"
Bane simply nodded. Dr. Han looked questioningly at Akinola who nodded in return. "Very well. You may talk to her if you wish. It is quite possible that she hears us, even in a comatose state."
Akinola placed a hand on Bane's shoulder. "Take some time with her, Nigel. When you can, get changed and something to eat. For now, Lt. Fralk is acting XO and you're my second officer. You can relieve Fralk in Auxiliary Control later."
Bane nodded. "Thank you, Captain."
The Captain gave Bane's shoulder a squeeze and he left the cubicle. He saw Dr. Castille exit the surgical suite, peeling off a blood-spattered surgical gown. His face was drawn and haggard, dark circles under his eyes made him look older. The Doctor slumped down and sat on the same stool where Akinola had perched. He looked up when he saw Akinola approach.
"Doc? . . ." Akinola began.
A small smile formed on the Doctor's face. "Damn, I'm good," he said, in a weary but satisfied tone.
The Captain relaxed slightly. "I take it the surgery went well?"
Castille leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Oh yeah!" He breathed out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. "The repair to the pulmonary vein was text-book perfect! And her eyes . . ." He paused a moment. "I have to admit, I was really concerned about her eyes, but by God, her vision will be better now than before! I was able to correct a tiny bit of astigmatism in her left eye." With his eyes still closed, he shook his head slowly side to side and chuckled softly. "I wish I had time for a drink!"
Akinola smiled. "Tell you what, Doc. When we get back to Echo, I'm buying."
Castille took a deep breath, and yawned expansively. "I'll hold you to that."
* * *
For the third time, Lt. Fralk ran through the sensor logs from just prior to the warp-core explosion to several minutes past. He frowned in puzzlement each time. It just didn't make sense!
The door to Auxiliary Control slid open and Lt. Sarnek entered, carrying a tray.
"I thought you might be hungry, so I took the liberty of bringing you food." Sarnek placed the tray on an adjacent console.
"May the Other bless you with seven wives!" said Fralk happily as he lifted the cover off the plate. A strong, sour smell filled the space. Fralk's grin widened to that rather disconcerting degree that only Denobulans can manage. "Kimchi! Bless Cookie's cholesterol-filled heart!"
Sarnek managed to not wrinkle his nose. "I must admit, I find your affection for this Terran . . . 'food' . . . to be puzzling."
Fralk took a large bite of the spicy, fermented cabbage. He closed his eyes in delight. "Oh yeah, that's good!" he chewed appreciatively. "I first tried it at a Korean restaurant on Starbase 315. It's very similar to a popular Denobulan dish." His eyes fell on the display over which he had been working. "Say Sarnek, since you're here, how about taking a look at the sensor log - It just doesn't make any sense to me."
Sarnek seated himself in an adjacent chair and ran through the readout. After several minutes, he leaned back, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" asked Fralk.
Sarnek's eyebrow twitched. "Perhaps. If I am reading this correctly, it appears that the Janus somehow beamed something off the Backroad, then jumped to warp mere nano-seconds after the blast wave hit us. Apparently, our proximity to the Janus' warp field hurled us 8.213 light minutes from our original position."
* * *
Lt. Commander Delta Simms felt like someone had shoved her out an airlock. Her head pounded, her chest ached and her dry mouth tasted like a swamp. If I hurt like this, I'm either still alive or I've died and gone to Hell, she thought.
Her eyelids seemed sticky, but with effort, she forced them open. Her vision was blurry, but she could tell she was in Sick Bay. Then, someone appeared over her bed. She squinted, trying to focus her eyes.
Octavius Castille grinned at her. He looks exhausted! thought Delta. She cleared her throat. "Could I have some water?" she croaked.
Castille disappeared from her view momentarily, then returned with a cup of ice water with a straw. Delta sipped the water greedily.
"Easy! Not too much too quick - it'll make you sick to your stomach." He pulled the cup out of her reach. She blinked again, her vision clearing.
"What happened?" she asked.
He favored her with a sad smile. "A lot's happened since you left the building. As for you, you took a nasty shock while in the Jeffrey's tube. You gave us all quite a scare!"
She frowned. "I can't remember that - last I remember, Chief Brundy gave me a boost into the tube. He must have pulled me out."
Something flickered across Castille's face. "Yes, that's right. Listen, you need to rest . . ."
"I really need to thank Chief Brundy for saving my butt . . . Guess I should have listened to him in the first place."
"Sure, sure. Look, I've got a room full of patients. I'll see you again in a bit."
She smiled. "See that you do!"
* * *
Captain Akinola joined Lt. Fralk and Lt. Sarnek in Auxiliary control. Fralk was about to report their findings, when they were interrupted by an in-coming hail.
Bluefin, this is the USS Adair - respond please.
A rueful smile formed on Akinola's face. "She found out, huh?"
Fralk gave him a sympathetic look. " 'Fraid so, Captain. They made good time getting here - we weren't expecting them for another 20 minutes."
The Captain shook his head and responded to the hail. "Adair, this is the Bluefin, go ahead."
The small viewscreen came to life, revealing the face of Captain Margaret Gunderson. Gunderson and Akinola had a long and occasionally intimate history. They still had deep feelings for one another, though they no longer had a "formal" relationship. Gunderson's attractive face was a mixture of concern and relief. She absently tucked a length of chestnut brown hair behind an ear.
"Joseph? Are you alright? What's your status?"
"We're banged up but in one piece, Marge. Captain T'San and the Growler are helping out. You didn't have to . . ."
"Like Hell!" she interrupted. "We'll be on station in ten minutes, then I'm beaming over to see for myself. I've got teams ready to help wherever you need them."
Joseph chuckled. "Okay, okay! But I warn you, it's already crowded over here. We've got more than 50 personnel from the SS Janus on board."
"We'll squeeze in. Gunderson, out."
"You handled that well, sir," said Fralk, with a straight face.
"Up yours, Lieutenant," Akinola said, grinning. "Now, what was it in the sensor logs you wanted to show me?"
* * *
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Very nice and efficient work by the Border Dogs-its almost like real StarFleet personnel were at work!
Seriously, your description of the whole recovery effort rang true. I hope Strauss is ok and doesn't wake up "hearing things" if you know what I mean. Poor Delta-she's in for a rude and rather unpleasant shock. Good job.
Very nice and efficient work by the Border Dogs-its almost like real StarFleet personnel were at work!
Seriously, your description of the whole recovery effort rang true. I hope Strauss is ok and doesn't wake up "hearing things" if you know what I mean. Poor Delta-she's in for a rude and rather unpleasant shock. Good job.
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Once again, the ship and crew of the Bluefin took it on the chin--hard--but their courage and professionalism pulled them through.
But there's still that little matter of the req'ti and we all know how much Akinola hates loose ends...
Once again, the ship and crew of the Bluefin took it on the chin--hard--but their courage and professionalism pulled them through.
But there's still that little matter of the req'ti and we all know how much Akinola hates loose ends...
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Really like the almost motherly relationship between Gunderson and Akinola, those two are made for each other.
A lot of collective bruise licking in this segment but that is to be expected. A wonder really they got out of that like they did. Of course it's not all over yet, or is it?
Great job as usual.
Really like the almost motherly relationship between Gunderson and Akinola, those two are made for each other.
A lot of collective bruise licking in this segment but that is to be expected. A wonder really they got out of that like they did. Of course it's not all over yet, or is it?
Great job as usual.
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Not over by a long shot!
Next segment up in a few days. Thanks all, for your kind comments!
Not over by a long shot!
Next segment up in a few days. Thanks all, for your kind comments!
Re: Tales of the USS Bluefin - 7: "The More Things Change"
Chapter Thirteen
Stardate 54070.8 (27 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
Sickbay
Nigel Bane gently caressed Inga's left hand. Though her vital signs were strong and steady, she remained unconscious.
"Y'know," began Nigel, softly, "I've been a jerk these past few weeks . . . I guess I've been feelin' sorry for m'self, what with Jack's troubles and all." He sighed, looking at the small slender fingers in his rough, tanned hand. "And I was scared over what almost happened to you on the Greeley. I felt responsible, Inga. I would hate to do anything that would hurt you in any way." He paused again, listening to the reassuring beep of the monitor and glancing at her lovely, still face.
"And, I've got to admit - I'm scared for you now. I hope you wake up soon, 'cause, to be honest, I don't know what I'd do without you. But I also understand you're doin' what you love. Hell, I guess we both are, aren't we? And, like you said - if we're goin' to have a future, we've just got to deal with that. . . No," he corrected himself, "I have to deal with it. I think you already have."
He glanced at the chronometer over her bed and stood. "I guess my time's about up for now. I've got to relieve Fralk in a few minutes and need to change out of this EVA suit." He leaned over her, brushing her lips with his own. He hesitated, then said in a whisper, "I love you, Inga Strauss."
But Inga remained still and silent.
* * *
Auxiliary Control
Akinola crossed his arms, the furrow in his brow deepening as Fralk and Sarnek reviewed the sensor logs for him.
"So you're telling me that someone stayed on the Janus, beamed something off the Backroad, and jumped to warp a split-second after the explosion?"
Fralk nodded. "That's pretty much what happened."
"I'll be damned," the Captain murmured. "I'd bet my retirement income that I know what was beamed off the Backroad. And I've got a hunch who the culprit is, which should be easy to ascertain."
"What should be easy to ascertain?" came a feminine voice from the doorway of Auxiliary Control.
"Hi Marge!" said Akinola with a crooked grin. "You up for a round of 'good cop - bad cop?'"
* * *
Officers' Wardroom
Captain Forrash had a headache. That headache was intensifying as the dark-skinned Border Service captain continued to interrogate him, occasionally with shouts and veiled threats of physical violence. The fair-skinned female captain was much friendlier, yet she kept asking the same questions with maddening persistence, as if she had not heard his answers.
"For the tenth time," said Forrash, angrily, "I do not know what happened to the Janus! I was unconscious when I was beamed over. You can verify that with your transporter chief!"
Akinola snorted. "Easy enough to fake, Captain. You still haven't answered this question - who stayed behind on the Janus?"
Forrash shook his head. "I'm not sure - most of the crew had already beamed over here." His eyes flicked away from Akinola for just a moment.
You're lying, thought Akinola. "Well, since your memory is faulty, let me help you out. Our Lt. Sarnek has checked your crew manifest. All are accounted for except the owner of the vessel - a Mr. Larson Chandler."
Forrash nodded, but again, he avoided direct eye-contact. "Yes, Mr. Chandler is the owner of the Janus. He hired the crew of the Backroad to purchase some items at auction in the Klingon empire. It's all perfectly legal and above board, Captain!"
"Your Mr. Chandler looked familiar to me, Captain Forrash. Why is that?" Akinola's voice was no longer loud, but his quiet tone was somehow more ominous.
Forrash shrugged. "Mr. Chandler is well known as a philanthropist and explorer. No doubt, you've seen him on the news-net."
"No doubt," said Akinola, said sarcastically. "That's all the questions for now, Captain Forrash. Why don't you go back and join your crew - I believe dinner is being served for them about now."
Forrash stood, nodded curtly and left the wardroom. Akinola looked at Captain Gunderson, who raised her eyebrows.
"So? . . ." she queried.
"So, he's hiding something. Damned if I know what, though."
"What do you want to do now?"
Akinola stood and winced. The pain-killers were starting to wear off and his side was throbbing. "Right now, I want to get something to eat, then get another pain shot. After that, why don't you join me for a little side-trip in one of the Stallions. I want to go check out the area where that Bird of Prey blew - maybe there's something there to give us a clue."
Captain Gunderson looked doubtful. "Joseph, anything within a few thousand kilometers was reduced to sub-atomic particles."
"Yeah, you're probably right. But I'll feel better seeing for myself. And I think we'll take Captain Telestro and his crew along too. Maybe they can shed some more light on this little mystery."
* * *
Sickbay
Delta was getting the fidgets. She was feeling fine, really! And she was ready to get back to work. Yet Dr. Castille had been hesitant to release her from Sickbay for some reason.
As if summoned, Castille approached her bed, a padd in hand.
"How are you feeling, Delta?"
"Like I keep telling everyone - I'm fine! Will you please let me out of here so I can get back to work? I know we're short-handed right now."
Castille smiled. "Actually, with the Growler and the Adair here, we've got people running into each other. There's no sense rushing back to duty, Delta. A plasma shock can have lasting neurological effects. We just want to make sure that you don't have any nasty after-effects, that's all. Just be patient."
"I'm tired of being a patient, O.C.! Look - if you let me out, I promise to behave - I'll rest in my quarters. Just give me a chance to find Chief Brundy and thank him for saving my life."
A pained expression crossed Castille's face. He took her hand. "Delta, there's something I need to tell you . . ."
* * *
Stardate 54070.9 (27 January 2377)
Star Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
Lt. Bralus piloted the Stallion with Senior Chief Brin riding shotgun. In the aft section, Captains Akinola and Gunderson sat across from Carmine Telestro, Shonda and Bug. A faint sheen of nervous perspiration glistened on Carmine's forehead.
"Listen, Captain - I want to thank you again for saving our butts! I really thought we were goners when we lost power!"
Akinola nodded. "It's part of our job, Mr. Telestro. Glad to be of service."
"Yeah, right. But I gotta ask - why are we goin' back there? I mean, it's not like there's gonna be anything left of the Backroad, is there?"
Akinola made a non-commital gesture. "Probably not. I'm just a curious fellow, Mr. Telestro. I thought going back might help me get some things straight in my mind before I write my report. That's another part of the job, you know - writing reports. God knows, I hate that part! Still, I want to have my facts straight. You can understand that, can't you?" Akinola's expression was serene and his tone pleasant. Still, Carmine felt like a mouse caught in a cat's gaze.
"Uh, sure. Sure I can! But I don't see how we can be much help."
Akinola smiled. "We'll see shortly."
Solly's voice boomed from the flight deck. "We're here, Skipper!"
"Excuse me, won't you?" Akinola made his way forward and stood between Bralus and Chief Brin.
"Anything?" he asked.
Brin shook his head. "Too much background radiation for any detailed scans. I'll try short-range and see if we get lucky."
"At least the storm has passed," muttered Bralus. "This is practically calm compared to a few hours ago."
"Fly a spiral search pattern, Mr. Bralus. We'll give it a couple of hours, then head back to the ship." Akinola returned aft. Captain Gunderson looked up.
"Well?" she asked.
Akinola shook his head. "Nothing yet. We'll poke around a while, maybe we'll luck up on something." He leaned back against the bulkhead and crossed his arms.
"So Mr. Telestro. Tell me about the Req'ti." Akinola said, pleasantly.
Carmine simply gaped at him.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
Stardate 54070.8 (27 January 2377)
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
Sickbay
Nigel Bane gently caressed Inga's left hand. Though her vital signs were strong and steady, she remained unconscious.
"Y'know," began Nigel, softly, "I've been a jerk these past few weeks . . . I guess I've been feelin' sorry for m'self, what with Jack's troubles and all." He sighed, looking at the small slender fingers in his rough, tanned hand. "And I was scared over what almost happened to you on the Greeley. I felt responsible, Inga. I would hate to do anything that would hurt you in any way." He paused again, listening to the reassuring beep of the monitor and glancing at her lovely, still face.
"And, I've got to admit - I'm scared for you now. I hope you wake up soon, 'cause, to be honest, I don't know what I'd do without you. But I also understand you're doin' what you love. Hell, I guess we both are, aren't we? And, like you said - if we're goin' to have a future, we've just got to deal with that. . . No," he corrected himself, "I have to deal with it. I think you already have."
He glanced at the chronometer over her bed and stood. "I guess my time's about up for now. I've got to relieve Fralk in a few minutes and need to change out of this EVA suit." He leaned over her, brushing her lips with his own. He hesitated, then said in a whisper, "I love you, Inga Strauss."
But Inga remained still and silent.
* * *
Auxiliary Control
Akinola crossed his arms, the furrow in his brow deepening as Fralk and Sarnek reviewed the sensor logs for him.
"So you're telling me that someone stayed on the Janus, beamed something off the Backroad, and jumped to warp a split-second after the explosion?"
Fralk nodded. "That's pretty much what happened."
"I'll be damned," the Captain murmured. "I'd bet my retirement income that I know what was beamed off the Backroad. And I've got a hunch who the culprit is, which should be easy to ascertain."
"What should be easy to ascertain?" came a feminine voice from the doorway of Auxiliary Control.
"Hi Marge!" said Akinola with a crooked grin. "You up for a round of 'good cop - bad cop?'"
* * *
Officers' Wardroom
Captain Forrash had a headache. That headache was intensifying as the dark-skinned Border Service captain continued to interrogate him, occasionally with shouts and veiled threats of physical violence. The fair-skinned female captain was much friendlier, yet she kept asking the same questions with maddening persistence, as if she had not heard his answers.
"For the tenth time," said Forrash, angrily, "I do not know what happened to the Janus! I was unconscious when I was beamed over. You can verify that with your transporter chief!"
Akinola snorted. "Easy enough to fake, Captain. You still haven't answered this question - who stayed behind on the Janus?"
Forrash shook his head. "I'm not sure - most of the crew had already beamed over here." His eyes flicked away from Akinola for just a moment.
You're lying, thought Akinola. "Well, since your memory is faulty, let me help you out. Our Lt. Sarnek has checked your crew manifest. All are accounted for except the owner of the vessel - a Mr. Larson Chandler."
Forrash nodded, but again, he avoided direct eye-contact. "Yes, Mr. Chandler is the owner of the Janus. He hired the crew of the Backroad to purchase some items at auction in the Klingon empire. It's all perfectly legal and above board, Captain!"
"Your Mr. Chandler looked familiar to me, Captain Forrash. Why is that?" Akinola's voice was no longer loud, but his quiet tone was somehow more ominous.
Forrash shrugged. "Mr. Chandler is well known as a philanthropist and explorer. No doubt, you've seen him on the news-net."
"No doubt," said Akinola, said sarcastically. "That's all the questions for now, Captain Forrash. Why don't you go back and join your crew - I believe dinner is being served for them about now."
Forrash stood, nodded curtly and left the wardroom. Akinola looked at Captain Gunderson, who raised her eyebrows.
"So? . . ." she queried.
"So, he's hiding something. Damned if I know what, though."
"What do you want to do now?"
Akinola stood and winced. The pain-killers were starting to wear off and his side was throbbing. "Right now, I want to get something to eat, then get another pain shot. After that, why don't you join me for a little side-trip in one of the Stallions. I want to go check out the area where that Bird of Prey blew - maybe there's something there to give us a clue."
Captain Gunderson looked doubtful. "Joseph, anything within a few thousand kilometers was reduced to sub-atomic particles."
"Yeah, you're probably right. But I'll feel better seeing for myself. And I think we'll take Captain Telestro and his crew along too. Maybe they can shed some more light on this little mystery."
* * *
Sickbay
Delta was getting the fidgets. She was feeling fine, really! And she was ready to get back to work. Yet Dr. Castille had been hesitant to release her from Sickbay for some reason.
As if summoned, Castille approached her bed, a padd in hand.
"How are you feeling, Delta?"
"Like I keep telling everyone - I'm fine! Will you please let me out of here so I can get back to work? I know we're short-handed right now."
Castille smiled. "Actually, with the Growler and the Adair here, we've got people running into each other. There's no sense rushing back to duty, Delta. A plasma shock can have lasting neurological effects. We just want to make sure that you don't have any nasty after-effects, that's all. Just be patient."
"I'm tired of being a patient, O.C.! Look - if you let me out, I promise to behave - I'll rest in my quarters. Just give me a chance to find Chief Brundy and thank him for saving my life."
A pained expression crossed Castille's face. He took her hand. "Delta, there's something I need to tell you . . ."
* * *
Stardate 54070.9 (27 January 2377)
Star Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
Lt. Bralus piloted the Stallion with Senior Chief Brin riding shotgun. In the aft section, Captains Akinola and Gunderson sat across from Carmine Telestro, Shonda and Bug. A faint sheen of nervous perspiration glistened on Carmine's forehead.
"Listen, Captain - I want to thank you again for saving our butts! I really thought we were goners when we lost power!"
Akinola nodded. "It's part of our job, Mr. Telestro. Glad to be of service."
"Yeah, right. But I gotta ask - why are we goin' back there? I mean, it's not like there's gonna be anything left of the Backroad, is there?"
Akinola made a non-commital gesture. "Probably not. I'm just a curious fellow, Mr. Telestro. I thought going back might help me get some things straight in my mind before I write my report. That's another part of the job, you know - writing reports. God knows, I hate that part! Still, I want to have my facts straight. You can understand that, can't you?" Akinola's expression was serene and his tone pleasant. Still, Carmine felt like a mouse caught in a cat's gaze.
"Uh, sure. Sure I can! But I don't see how we can be much help."
Akinola smiled. "We'll see shortly."
Solly's voice boomed from the flight deck. "We're here, Skipper!"
"Excuse me, won't you?" Akinola made his way forward and stood between Bralus and Chief Brin.
"Anything?" he asked.
Brin shook his head. "Too much background radiation for any detailed scans. I'll try short-range and see if we get lucky."
"At least the storm has passed," muttered Bralus. "This is practically calm compared to a few hours ago."
"Fly a spiral search pattern, Mr. Bralus. We'll give it a couple of hours, then head back to the ship." Akinola returned aft. Captain Gunderson looked up.
"Well?" she asked.
Akinola shook his head. "Nothing yet. We'll poke around a while, maybe we'll luck up on something." He leaned back against the bulkhead and crossed his arms.
"So Mr. Telestro. Tell me about the Req'ti." Akinola said, pleasantly.
Carmine simply gaped at him.
* * *
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