Taking Stock

Posted on 03 Dec 2024 @ 11:50pm by Captain Bane Plase

1,307 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Stranded
Location: Main Bridge
Timeline: Concurrent with "Light the Tires and Kick the Fires"

ON
Main Bridge
USS Cygnus


Plase watched as Dr. Winters and the Chief Nurse got Commander Bast on a hover-stretcher and got him onto the only functioning turbolift, whisking him away to Sickbay. Bane knew he would get better care there. He had already made vast improvements in the roughly 10 hours since the disaster struck his ship, and Bast personally. He even watched as the orderlies that brought up the stretcher removed the bisected body of Lieutenant Lynch.

Just as the doors to the turbolift closed, the lights in the room came back up to full power. Surprised, Bane looked up, then smiled big to himself. The ship was slowly coming back to life! He tapped his commbadge, but nothing happened. He was not deterred, though; his crew was making major advancements in ensuring they would live to explore another day.

He looked around the Bridge, ready to issue orders, only to find that he was the only one left on the Bridge. Everyone else was gone. Confused, he spoke aloud to the room. "Where the hell did Ziyal and Lisald go?"

The computer squawked, chirruped and chimed before answering, its feminine voice raising and lowering in pitch as it spoke. "Unable to process request at this time. Please dock the ship at the nearest fleet yard for immediate repairs," it informed him.

"Heh, no shit," he responded. The computer attempted to respond, but Bane ignored it. Last he had seen either of them, Ziyal had just climbed up from somewhere below-deck. Lisald had been in the way and had not conducted himself according to his rank and position on the ship when he was sent on a task by Bane near the beginning of this whole ordeal and had ordered him to check in with Ziyal. Perhaps she had taken him somewhere else to make him of some use. Plase would have to deal with Lisald at some point, but now was not the time for that. He was thankful that Ziyal was doing that for him.

He made his way to the Conn and sat down at that seat. Marshal had smashed her head pretty hard on the console and was probably seeking medical attention now too. He tapped a few commands and brought the station back online, well, as much as he could. What he saw was not good, at all. Just as Marshal had told him, nothing was working. Almost nothing. While the port Impulse engine was now technically online, it was of no use; the main deflector was completely destroyed. The port nacelle was missing, too, so there was no hope for warp travel. The asymmetric nature of just one nacelle on the starboard side would not hold a static warp bubble for them to slip into subspace and travel at faster-than light. The only thing they did have working for them was maneuvering thrusters, but only 38% of those were working. If they used them, they would not be able to maintain attitude control along the x axis and y axis.

That particular station no good to him, he stood and walked to the back of the bridge to Engineering Station 1. He attempted to pull up the station, but it would not respond. He could hear the buttons chirping their sounds like there was something trying to happen. Bane tilted his head, then leaned to one side to allow the light to catch the screen. He could tell by standing at the perfect angle that the display was completely blown out. There was no way for him to be able to access that system without that screen. And with the main computer still not fully functional, he could not use one of the secondary stations to transfer it to with voice command.

Plase was just about to abandon that when he got a call from Main Engineering. “Engineering to the Bridge,” said the voice from Main Engineering. “Main power restored.”

Plase tapped his commbadge, then chided himself, and moved over to Science Station 1 and activated the comm from there. "I see that, Crewman," he said, not knowing who he was talking to. "Outstanding work, to you and the whole team down there! Bridge out," he said. Bane really was proud of his crew. They had the absolute worst thrown at them, and they were rising to the challenge, all of them. Since he was at Science Station 1, he called up the system. He attempted to use the long range scanners, but just as he had been told, they were destroyed. It was obviously a bad idea to have all the sensors and long range communications in one area of the ship, a single point of failure. When he was able to make his report to Starfleet about this incident, he would be highlighting that, along with the ceaseless determination of his crew. He was surprised to see that he did have limited short range sensors. It appeared that he could make out up to half a light year out. Not far, but still thankful he could see something. He also could make out the pod they had lost (that housed all their long range sensors and long range communications). He scanned it. Surprisingly, there were two life signs onboard it, though there was nothing he could do about it right now. As soon as he was able, he would have them transported off, or get the shuttle bays back to working order so he could launch a shuttle to go rescue them. He also could see the port warp nacelle that was sheered off of his ship, drifting away in roughly opposite direction of the pod. He had hoped he would see a ship inbound to help, but no such luck. It could be Starfleet sent a ship to investigate and they were still too far out for the Cygnus to see it in her current state. Or, it could be Starfleet doesn't even know yet

He took a quick look to see if he had internal sensors, and was surprised to find that they were in full functioning order. He was very glad his orders were being followed so closely. He would have to commend Lieutenant Ahmad for that. The first thing he looked at was the life signs. He knew he had a compliment of 750 souls aboard, or better, did before today. Bane knew to be a good Captain, he had to love Starfleet and the people that served with him. To be a good Captain, sometimes he would have to take those people he loved into harm's way. He knew that there would occasionally be the empty chair, the salute to fallen shipmates. He knew that, expected it, and accepted it. As a good commander, sometimes he would have to give the commands that led to the very destruction of the thing he loved most. Today was that day, a day in which he had experienced only one other time in his long thirty-seven year career in Starfleet, where he had to experience and command so many to their deaths, to command the very thing he loved the most to its destruction. Everyone joined Starfleet to eventually get the center chair, or so he had heard. It was a goal that most viewed with a sense of wonder and glitz and fairy tale and awe. Nobody ever thought about days like this. The internal sensors read only 302 life signs, with forty-seven of those barely registering. A Captain never expected to have so many empty chairs where once a promising life had occupied aboard his or her or their ship.

Plase heard a noise coming from the Jeffries Tube to his right and looked over, just in time to see Lieutenant Ahmad emerge, with some effort.

OFF

OOC: This feeds directly into "Resiliency's End"


Bane Plase, Captain
USS Cygnus, Commanding

 

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