Belly of the Whale

Posted on 17 Sep 2024 @ 6:33pm by Lieutenant JG Dylan McConnor & Ensign Emilie D'Astous & Lieutenant Maralen Seitha

1,374 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Stranded
Location: Bridge
Timeline: Immediately following Surviving the Apocalypse

The captain's orders had been clear - except for that part about harming fowl. McConnor sought out a supply locker and fetched equipment to hand out to those who would be venturing forth, placing a few devices in a duffel bag that he slung over his shoulder.

D'Astous and Lieutenant Seitha were edging closer to the open turbolift doors. McConnor walked up to them.

"Can't we use the Jeffries tubes?" asked the young helmswoman.

"With the current state of the ship, I wouldn't trust them," replied McConnor. "It's one of the most likely places for a plasma fire or a ruptured power conduit that would flood that section with toxic gases. Our best bet is to climb down the turboshaft."

He reached into the duffel bag and handed each of them a piece of equipment about the size of his palm. "Portable power units," he explained. "There's not that much power in them, but it should be enough to let you open a few doors."

He also handed them each a palm beacon and tricorder.

Maralen took the devices from the Engineer. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he offered as he tucked the tricorder and power unit into his belt. The light, he took with his tail, holding it out beside him, though close to his body. This was more for them, though, than him -- as mentioned, he had already been here, and besides, he didn't really want to see the walls though as that would only bring home how small the shaft really was, but there was nothing for it.

Looking to the Helmswoman, he smiled slightly. "Besides, the Jeffries Tubes are even smaller than the lift shaft." His eyes then tracked back to McConnor. "Unfortunately, we can't take this particular shaft all the way to Engineering. The lift car is stuck between Decks 12 and 13. From there, we will have to use other lift shafts to go to the other spaces we need to go." He paused thoughtfully for a second. "Unless either of you are getting off before that."

Stop stalling, Maralen! his mind chastised him. He set himself and moved to the lift shaft, turning to back into it and onto the ladder that ran the height of the ship alongside the doors. "Watch your footing," he warned unnecessarily then started to descend the ladder.

"But the tubes are mostly horizontal," muttered D'Astous under her breath as McConnor followed Seitha into the shaft. Émilie brought up the rear. She grabbed hold of the rungs and placed feet firmly on the ladder, refusing to look down. Her knuckles turned white as she held on tight.

"Uh... What do we do if 'down' becomes 'up' again?" she asked.

McConnor simply shot her a look, and searched for a foothold to descend the ladder. The Captain's instructions were for him to get to Sickbay as soon as possible (random acts of cruelty to fowl notwithstanding). That meant going down twelve decks. At twenty-six rungs per deck, he had... A long way to go. And then he had to come back to the Bridge with a medic, which meant climbing all those rungs in the other direction. He took a deep breath and tried pacing himself, but then those images of crewmembers lying on the Bridge crept into his mind, and he picked up the pace. Lieutenant Seitha, with his feline agility, was already a good distance away.

Emilie made her cautious way down the ladder as well, but she had a shorter distance to travel. Her instructions were to visit the emergency shelters and get a head count there, and if possible, enlist others to do the same. There were about a dozen or so such shelters on the ship. Sickbay, of course, but also the cargo bays, some of the lounges, and the Arboretum and Science labs, which were big enough to accomodate large groups of people.

The first lounge was located on Deck Four - the senior officers' lounge. She wrapped one arm around the rungs of the ladder, and reached out toward the closed turbolift doors, the portable power emitter that McConnor had handed her held high. She pressed it against the door and thumbed the switch, hoping that it would be enough to open the doors.

But they only parted by five centimeters.

She cursed under her breath, and slipped her fingers between the doors, grabbing hold. She tried to pull the doors open, but she was too far away - all she was doing was pulling her own weight over the open chasm of the turboshaft.

She reaffirmed her grasp on the doors, and taking a deep breath, she lifted one foot off the ladder, and reached out to gain a foothold at the lip of the door, standing on tiptoe. With her body weight closer to the door, she was able to pull them open, and stepped forward on solid ground.

"Made it," she called out to McConnor and Seitha, who were continuing down the shaft to their own assignments.

"Godspeed, Em," replied McConnor.

Maralen had watched her carefully in case she had needed a hand... or tail. She hadn't, though, and he nodded to himself, pleased. He did not say anything as there was no need. McConnor had said it perfectly. And besides, he was using the Cold to keep from losing his figurative crap in this small space, and he knew that might not help her. So he continued down the ladder toward Deck 12 where Sickbay was.

At Deck 12, Maralen released his hold of the ladder and dropped onto the top of the lift car he had climbed out of earlier. Looking up at McConnor, he forced his expression to go from Cold to simply Calm and maybe just a touch Cool. "I believe this is your stop," he said, attempting to be lighter than he felt.

"Yes, Sir," said McConnor. Stepping onto the roof of the lift car was far less hazardous than the lunge D'Astous had needed to perform earlier. In less than thirty seconds, Dylan had opened the lift doors and stepped onto the darkened deck.

He directed his light in the corridor, revealing a scene just as disastrous as what they'd left behind on the Bridge. Crewmembers knocked unconscious, some with an arm or a leg twisted in an impossible direction, some simply sitting on the ground, holding a bandage to their head, waiting for help.

He walked past them slowly, told them that help would be coming, and made his way to Sickbay.

Maralen followed McConnor into the corridor, privately relieved to be out of the lift shaft. Oh, he knew that he would need to get into another to get down to Engineering, but for the moment, he could relax back into his Calm. Normally, he would have stopped and offered what help he could, but this circumstance was far from normal, so he simply moved past them, giving them assurance that help would come soon as McConnor had. He did give each a once-over to see if any of them were his Security people. The only ones he saw were among the unconscious. Likely, he thought, they had been made so by trying to protect the ones who were still conscious.

As he followed the Engineer down the corridor, passing all the wreckage -- both the ship and the crew -- he couldn't help but to feel a pang of guilt. Not that there was anything he could have done to prevent this; he had not even been on the bridge at the time. No, when they needed him, where had he been? In a sshrralling turbolift!

Flawed, his mind corrected this useless thought pattern. He mentally sighed. He needed to redirect his mind. Guilt was not an emotion that he had a useful version to channel it into.

Instead, he focused on what he needed to do. The list was long, but mostly, it would be the job of Engineering, but he still needed to get down there and inform them of the captain's orders as to what got repaired in what order. And along the way, he looked for any of his Security staff who were still conscious.

 

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