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USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo



[ Ensign Laurel Okhala | 1400 hrs | USS Endeavour's Autonomous Survival and Recovery Vehicle: H93 ] Attn: @patches @Blue Zephyr @Fife

An hour, that was all it took, less than really, to destroy their home. Seperated and scattered, the survivors of the USS Endeavour watched out the slitted windows of their ASRVs as she went down, before being shot off on their oneway warp journey to science only knows where. An hour after seeing the frightful view of the Borg Cube, Laurel sat exhausted and disheartened among a handful of her fellow crewmen from the Endeavour.

Now that the adrenaline had all but fled, the extent of her head injury weighed as heavily physically, as the losses did emotionally. If not for Egon's well intentioned and wherewithal to keep her awake, Laurel would have given into unconsciousness. As it was, she was finding it hard to stay awake, as there was little to hold her attention. No one spoke for a long while save for a few mumbled assurances or curses, and Egon's litany of urges to keep her awake. They had broken out the medical supplies soon after the jittery jump to warp and had fixed what they could before it's stuttering reemergence with subspace. At least she was not bleeding anymore.

Their situation was still worrying however, as they were now broadcasting their location and their vulnerability to the friend and foe in the area. There was nothing with which they could fight, they could not navigate, they could not give off their own communications. They were stuck in the small space for the foreseeable future.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #1 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Ducote is a Liar | Heartless | USS Fucked Escape Pod]
@patches @Fife @YasyraTrill

He hadn't come.

The fucker had promised. 

She wasn't an idiot, she understood that the promise was more something to placate her and get her to leave his sight so that she could, at the very least, save herself.  Promises, though, meant something more to Blue.  Ducote knew that.  He should have fucking known that.  But no, there was no Ducote in this fucking pod.  No one to call her trouble, when there should be.  No one to soothe her frayed nerves, no one to soothe her fucked up soul.

She was solo.

Blue hadn't said a word, not a fucking word than the scream of 'No!' before the escape pod doors closed without Ducote and discharged from the fucking Death Ship.  She sat as far away from the others as she possibly could which meant they were nearly touching and it was too fucking close.  Every time someone tried to speak to her she leveled them with a gaze that reminded them she had flayed lesser fuckers with her tongue more times than she could count and today.. she was particularly salty and she would be more than willing to make someone feel a bit raw in the moment.

She didn't handle anger well.

He left me.

He didn't make it. 

The fucker didn't make it.

He promised he would come.

Blue took a shuddering breath.  She was staring at her hands.  At the blue tungsten steel ring that circled the finger on her left hand where her engagement ring lay.  The thin inset of actual meteorite metal shimmering in the center.  He had said it was perfect for her, and it was.  She wasn't the shiny jewels and massive diamonds kind of girl.  She liked the simplicity and she was pretty sure he mentioned something about her being quite like a meteorite in attitude.  An attitude that only he seemed to be able to handle and one that only he seemed to be able to soothe. 

“How long do you think we're going to be in here?” asked someone, she couldn't recognize the voice, but her sharp blue eyes, steel hardened honed in on the speaker.

“As long as it fucking takes, don't you think?”  her words were harsh, the tone was not forgiving, and her eyes lit with a fire inside that no one had seen Blue Tiran with before.  Not even those that had the misfortune of pissing her off.  The silence that followed, from the woman, was enough to pull Blue back into the wounded shell where she was. 

She had finally stopped shaking.  It was hard for those around her to understand.  Ducote... Ranaan, he had been everything to her.  He had found her when she was broken and told the world to fuck off on a daily basis.  He had pulled her out of her shell, little by little.  She had eventually stopped fearing that every fight, every tool left on the couch, would end what they had started.  Abandonment issues was a thing that she struggled with, and she just knew... that he would leave her.  Others had.  Her parents had.  A secret that only Ducote knew.  Then, … then she had stopped fearing, she knew she could be herself, she toned down a little bit but never lost the edge that made her Blue. 

Ranaan Ducote had lied.

He hadn't made it.  He was gone.  Just gone.  Lost to the Borg, lost to the vacuum of space, just lost.  He hadn't made it to the pod, he had said he would come and he had lied.  She wanted to put her fist through the deck plating of the wall.  Through one panel after another, but that wasn't going to make her feel any better.  She hadn't cried, Blue wasn't a crier.  She was just pissed.  Pissed to the point that she had been shaking and in shock for a while.  Warp was .. a delight.. truly.

Ranaan Ducote you're so fucking lucky that you're a fucking dead man because if I found you now you would taste my knuckles on the back of your fucking throat. she thought angrily as she shifted.  There wasn't much fucking room in here and Blue was finding it hard to stretch out her legs.  She didn't want her muscles to get all stove up but that wasn't likely going to be something she could really keep from happening at the moment.

She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her elbows on her knees.  Dropping her head into her hands her hands clenched her ample curls.  She wanted to scream, she wanted to rage.  She needed something to keep her busy.  Busy meant she wouldn't fall apart.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cross | 1400hrs | USS Endeavour’s Escape Pod ] @patches @YasyraTrill @Blue Zephyr

Cross sat on one of the seats of the escape pod, trying not to take up too much room. To say their current surroundings were very tight would have been a massive understatement. They were a lot of people in a very little space. Tensions were high and moral was low. He looked around at the people in the pod with him and wondered if there were any other survivors. Cross wondered if Kai was in another escape pod. Cross had resisted making friends for a long time, especially after the war, because it wasn’t worth the pain of losing them, but Kai had become his best friend. Cross didn’t pray, he didn’t believe in any gods or deities of any kind, but he hoped Kai wasn’t dead.

His nose had stopped bleeding long ago, but he could feel it as it throbbed now that the adrenaline had worn off. Cross reached a hand up to his face and touch his nose lightly, exploring the damage. He had assumed that his nose was broken and, based on the unusual angle his nose was currently sitting at, he had been right. Cross reached up with his other hand, braced a thumb on either side of his nose, and gritted his teeth.

*Crack* “Mother fucking piece of…!” Cross dropped his head forward and clenched his jaw, biting off the expletives he had been growling in Cardassian. His hand gingerly explored his nose again, and it felt much more normal than it had. Cross took several deep breaths to try and calm himself as the pain subsided a little, then raised his head and looked towards Ensign Okhala.

“Hey Okhala, is my nose straight?” Cross asked, giving the Ensign a half-hearted grin that he hoped would seem friendly. Too late he realized that his grin probably looked more horrific that friendly, as the bottom half of his face was probably still covered in drying and dried green blood, and he suspected the area around his nose sported a rather nasty greenish bruise as well.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #3 –
[ Ensign Laurel Okhala | Hey We Both Bleed Green | ASRV-H93 ] Attn: @patches @Blue Zephyr @Fife

"Na-ht sure I'm the one you should be asking, Lieutenant." Laurel tried to say then shook her head as her speech slurred. 'Huh, I must of hit my head really hard.' she thought, before leaning in and trying to focus on Cross' face to look at his nose. A startled snort of slightly hysterical laughter escaped her as she took in just how much blood was covering the lower half of Cross' face. She was certain she did not look much better as she could feel the slightly irritating itch that came from dried blood. "Hey we both bleed green." She smiled a little dopily at Cross. "I think your nose looks ok . . . but are you supposed to have two of them?"

[ Ensign Egon Julbi | ASRV-H93 ]
 
Not for the first time Egon wondered how he had managed to get himself into this mess. Looking between his clearly injured girlfriend, the grinning and bloody superior officer, Engineer Blue giving them all the death glare, the simmering rage of the operations officer, and the nearly silent shrink in the corner, plus his own bloodied hands and ruined uniform they were a bunch. Laurel didn't seem to be responding to the stimulent he had given her when they broke out the medkits. If anything she was getting worse. He had never seen her act like this, he knew some of it was shock, but her usually iron control of her voice and feelings was wavering and this, more than the blood and bruising, worried him.

"Counselor R'Rori? I know you usually deal with emotional stuff but . . . you might want to take a look at these two. Lieutenant, your nose looks straight if not super swollen." Egon wrinkled his own nose in sympathy. "He definitely only has one nose, Laurel." He added, looking closely at Laurel's unfocussed eyes. Jumping slightly when she reached out poked him in his own nose almost catching him in the eye on accident.

"That's good, Bjoran noses are cute but you should probably only have one." She giggled a little. Egon barely contained the scandalized look that tried to crawl across his face, as he glanced around at the others for help.

"What did I give you? Are you high?" He went to reach for the kit he had opened before.

OOC: I figured I'd cover which NPC we wound up with. I hope that's ok with everyone, if not, we can always go back and change it :D. Ensign Egon Julbi is a Bjoran security officer. Feel free to commandeer him. Also welcome Shar :D

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #4 –
[LtJr. Khelleshar sh'Zenne |  1400hrs | USS Endeavour's Escape Pod] @Fife @patches @YasyraTrill @Blue Zephyr

Shar stared into the vacuum of the space through one of the small windows of the pod, breathing hard, while her antennae spasmodically moved almost touching her skull. She didn't know how she should feel. Everything had been too fast and she had been moving on adrenaline until she almost launched herself headlong into the small capsule. Now that the rush began to cool down, she had to face what had happened. Dealing with being enclosed in a tiny space, with little food and water, on the way to nowhere. Enclosed with more people than the pod could comfortably hold. Too many.

Shar's right antenna gave a whiplash and stuck completely over her head. While she clenched her jaw, the other antenna didn't take long to follow the first. She was furious. Furious with the Borg, with the excess of people in that minuscule place, already warming up the little air they had until it was suffocating. Also she hated Commander Vasiliev, for letting himself ... letting himself became THAT.

She cramped her fists, digging her nails into her palms. Quickly, a couple of lines of cobalt blood began to run between her fingers. Some drops fell on the floor, mingling with a green stain that she didn't quite know how had formed.

But first of all, she was angry with herself, for not doing more, for not having given the Borg more resistance. For having allowed herself to be dragged there without having done ... Without doing what, Shar? she asked herself grimly, while gritting her teeth Fight! Destroy everything in my path! she thought.  And after that? Just one more drone: one more enemy for the Federation and the dream of her little sister truncated  because she wouldn't have been able to keep her impulses under control. Because she would have messed  up everything, again. Without second chances this time.

The andorian tried to breathe more calmly, but only got the air whistling between her clenched teeth. She closed her eyes tightly, painfully. She had done what she should. She had obeyed orders. She lived to fight another day. There was no point in fighting only on impulse, without thinking. It wasn't what her people did, there was no honor in dying uselessly. It sounded very well, very ... logical. But Shar would want that her body believed the same. Her blood burned in her veins. She felt the beat of her heart in her ears, like a crazed drum. She couldn't help but tremble due to the effort of maintaining control.

The voices of the rest of the crew sounded too loud, their laughts squeaked hysterically. Her right antenna hurt and, Shar wasn't sure why, the knee was too. She felt a tingle on the back of her neck, and she turned quickly, out of sheer instinct. Her body betrayed her again: the sore knee failed and she hit her bones on the floor. Unwittingly, she ended up taking much of the space that remained free of crewmen: Shar was too big for the overcrowded capsule.

"By Lor'vela, we are neck-deep in shelat now,".- she finally grunted as she tried to make her long limbs occupy as little space as possible.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #5 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Rage Fuels Motivation | Busy Hands Don't Strangle | Shit Can]
@YasyraTrill @patches @Fife @Numen

Life sucked.

Work sucked.

People sucked.

Fiances sucked.

The universe fucking sucked.

Blue Tiran was currently staring at a screw on the opposite side of the escape pod from her own spot that she hadn't moved from.  She hadn't moved because if she did, people would die.  Right now, concentrating on the screw and thinking about everything but the mother fuckers that she was stuck with meant that she was able to not murder them all.  Though, that would mean more oxygen, food, and room for herself once she figured out how to discard all the bodies.  Truth was, she had probably fantasized how to kill each and every one of them at least once since she had been forced into this pod.

Mostly Shar.

Shar was number one.

That blue fucker was going to die by the hands of Blue Tiran.  Ironic; she was certain.  Death by Blue.  Blue chick dies by the woman named after a color.  She was the one that got the worst of the bloody gore that ran through Blue's head.  The summation of all the anger and rage that fueled the woman that sat there trying not to act on any of it. 

She knew, deep down, she wouldn't.

Blue was the first person to throw a wrench or a curse word but she had never raised her hand to someone that didn't deserve it.  And while in her anger she wanted Shar to deserve it, she didn't.  She had done what Blue would have done.  In the back of her mind, Blue knew this.  Had it been Shar out there waiting on her mate.. or whatever the fuck Andorian's called their.. odd other.. three people in a relationship or .. something.. she would have picked up the woman or boot-kicked her ass into the escape pod to save her life. 

That didn't mean Blue forgave her.

Because of Shar, Ducote was on that ship, and not in the pod.  If they had waited one more second, one more minute, one more moment.  He could have come.  She knew it, any moment he would have rounded that corner and pulled her close and they would have gotten into the pod together at the same time.  She would be curled up in his lap thinking about all the people that had been assimiliated and all the people they would never see again.  But, the most important person in Blue Tiran's world would have his arms wrapped around her soothing her.  Speaking into her mind, calling her Trouble, and making sure that she was okay.

Blue had none of that.

The others were talking among themselves.  Blue didn't want to be part of it.  She didn't have anything to say that wouldn't be catty and nasty and likely just make her more mad.  She didn't want to cry, she didn't want to talk about it, she just felt hollow.  Hollow was never good for Blue.  She had felt that once before and it had nearly destroyed a very young very happy girl.  One that had loved her brother, one that had loved her sister, and one that was forgotten by the world as soon as both of them were gone.

Blue scooted over to the panel, the screw wasn't tightened all the way.  She reached up with her calloused fingers and unscrewed it the rest of the way.  The other screw was much the same and she quickly unscrewed it with her fingers and pulled the panel covering off.  She needed something to do, so she began to tinker.  She knew the systems of the escape pod like the back of her hand, and while she wasn't doing anything big she was just securing the conduits and double checking the junction connections.

Anything.

Anything to keep from crying, from raging, from murdering, from the worst thought of all.

Joining Ducote.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #6 –
[LtJr. Khelleshar sh'Zenne |  Sometime around 14:00 |ASRV-H93 Pod] @Fife  @patches  @YasyraTrill @Blue Zephyr 
[Show/Hide]

The sound of a screwdriver loosening  some bolts was unmistakable. Shar arched  antennae in front of her, searching for the source of the noise. When she found it in the form of Blue, who was manipulating one of the panels of the capsule, the appendages of her head squeezed against her skull, crushing her short white hair. It was the last thing she needed to lose the scant control she had over the irritation she had been feeling since the capsule was uncoupled from the Endeavour. That that ... that know-it-all little engineer decided to start disassembling the bloody pod. As if they didn't have enough roaming the space in that crowded cabin. Shar thought irritated that she should have left her out of the capsule instead of dragging her with the rest of them. Yeah, she knew it was her duty to save her, but the human was pushing herself to be repellent. Besides, Shar could not help but be outraged by her name, particularly when the engineer had the bad habit of messing around with Operations work, as if they weren't good enough to meet her standards. The Andorian had even put a couple of complaints to the XO, before being told she was his fiancé. The memory of the embarrassment she had felt fueled her anger and gave her a clear objective to direct it to, an opportunity to steer her frustration towards something tangible.

“Yo! Stop messing with the pod, pink-skin” She scolded her, clenched teeth.”If you want to ease  Borg work, do us a favor and jump through a hatch.”

The image of the eyes of his superior fading while the nanoprobes seized him dominated the andorian mind. The fucking engineer seemed willing to get killed, wasting the opportunity that had been denied to others. Only because for once her childish whims hadn't been fulfilled. Before she could realize what she was doing, Shar found herself hovering over Blue, clenching her fists and teeth. She could feel her throbbing pulse on the veins of her neck, and the roar of her heartbeat drumming her ears.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #7 –
[ Lt. Cross | Seat #4 | USS Endeavour’s Escape Pod ] @YasyraTrill @Blue Zephyr @Numen @patches

Having been reassured by Ensign Julbi that his nose was in fact straight again, Cross leaned back in his seat and let his head drop back to rest on the bulkhead behind him, waiting for the throbbing in his nose to subside. He looked on through half-closed eyes as Ensign Julbi tended to the obviously concussed Ensign Okhala. He absently watched the drama unfold before him as his mind replayed the events that led them to be aboard the escape pod.

”Arm all torpedoes. Reroute power to phasers. Fire at will! Fire everything we have!” Captain Amasov’s voice seemed to drift faintly through his mind.

They had fired everything they had, they had held out for as long as they could. Cross had re-modulated the phasers over and over trying to keep up with the Borg’s adaptive shields. Even after reports that drones had beamed aboard. The drones had begun to assimilating the Endeavour’s crew, but they had fought on.

And they had lost.

Captain Amasov’s voice seemed to echo in his head again.

”Abandon ship”

And now here we are… Cross thought, a heavy weight seeming to settle in his chest, adrift in the middle of who-knows-where, in a tiny box, with no way of telling how many others made it off the Endeavour alive.

That last thought had caused Cross to pause for a moment in his reflections.

Or if anyone else made it off…

Cross took a deep breath and looked around the tiny interior of the pod. Lieutenant Commander Tiran seemed to be holding on by a thread. Cross knew she and Commander Ducote were close, but at the same time he couldn’t understand what she was going through. Cross had never been good at romantic relationships, and the few relationships he had been in had never developed any deep emotional attachments for him, so the feelings of love and loss remained more or less alien to him.

Ensign Okhala was still being tended by Ensign Julbi. She was definitely the worse for wear. She’d taken a pretty nasty wound to the head, and the blood and swelling had left her looking pretty grim.

Though I doubt I look any better… Cross mused.

Ensign Julbi’s uniform was torn and ruined, and his hands seemed to be covered in blood, though Cross wasn’t sure if it was Julbi’s own blood or someone else’s. The blood appeared to be mostly red but there was green blood there too, the result of his efforts to assist Okhala.

Lieutenant Shar had seemed to be staring out a window, lost in her own thoughts. She seemed tense, she was trembling slightly, and Cross could hear her breath hissing through clenched teeth.

Cross closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could feel himself growing tired. It had been a hell of a day, and it had taken its toll on all of them. Cross could feel the fatigue affecting him, could feel his irritation growing. He could feel the tension setting in, the tightness in his jaw and neck. Usually it didn’t begin to affect him until late in the evening, although with everything that had happened to them in such a short period it was no surprise that he was feeling his control slip earlier than usual. Having never learned the emotional control a typical Vulcan would exhibit, Cross made due with simply restraining his anger through nightly meditation. It seemed he would have to meditate sooner today, though that might prove difficult in their present circumstances. Cross took another deep breath and tried to clear his mind, concentrating on his breathing.

His meditation last only a few moments when he heard someone hit the deck. He opened his eyes to see Lt. sh’Zenne on the floor of the pod, shifting herself to try and take up less room. Cross heard her mutter something as he closed his eyes once more and resumed his meditation.

He was vaguely aware of someone moving in the pod but attempted to block it out, keeping his mind focused on his breathing as he went through a mental exercise to combat his growing sense of anger. He managed a few minutes this time before his attention was once again pulled back to the pod by Lt. sh’Zenne’s voice.

“Yo! Stop messing with the pod, pink-skin! If you want to ease Borg work, do us a favor and jump through a hatch.” Sh’Zenne’s voice said, anger apparent in her tone.

Cross opened his eyes and saw that Lieutenant Commander Tiran had removed a panel from the bulkhead, and that Lieutenant J.G. sh’Zenne was now confronting her. Tensions were at critical levels, and this situation was bound to happen sooner or later. Cross had hoped that it would be later but hell, Cross had been hoping to dole out more damage to the Borg cube. Hopes weren’t as effective as torpedoes, though the tension in the pod could prove to be just as destructive.

“Sit down, Lieutenant,” Cross growled as he rose from his seat, noticing the Andorian’s clenched fists and tense stance, “We’ve got enough problems as it is. We don’t need a complete breakdown in discipline on top of everything else.” Cross turned to Lieutenant Commander Tiran. “Commander…” Cross began, then found himself unsure of how to proceed. While the senior officer on the pod was smaller than him, he knew she had a reputation for being somewhat… volatile. That, coupled with the fact that her fiancée was now presumably dead or assimilated, made this situation much more delicate than Cross was used to dealing with. Cross found himself missing the simplicity of combat.

I wish I had a phaser with me… Cross thought to himself, I could just stun them both. Though two unconscious officers would probably take up a lot of room in the pod… Cross took a deep breath.

“Commander,” Cross began again, trying to keep the edge of annoyance out of his voice, “Everyone is feeling tense. I don’t think tinkering with the escape pod is going to help alleviate that tension. Maybe we should all just sit down and try to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next?” Cross finished and sat back down in his seat, trying not to grind his teeth. The situation was bad enough without him having to play referee.

Cross took yet another deep breath, feeling the air moving into his lungs raggedly as he fought to force his growing anger down. Cross watched the two women, waiting to see if he’d have to step in and break up a physical altercation.

Though if they kill one another, I might finally be able to meditate in peace…

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #8 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran |  Some Get this Fucker out of my Face | I Will Make Him Smell Grey Matter | Too Small For Comfort]
@patches @Numen @Fife @YasyraTrill

Blue was checking on the areas where the wires and conduits merged together.  There was no fucking way that she was going to let the power in this fucker fail on her watch.  The last thing she needed to do was watch all those fuckers suffocate together while she lay there doing the same dam thing herself.  That was just not very interesting to her what so ever.  She didn't have any special abilities so she didn't sense the frustrations that were wafting over to her from the Andorian that she was already about ready to make sure that her anus and Blue's boot had a very close relationship.  Perhaps, best case, the inseparable kind. 

If she had been smart she would have left Blue to her own devices and let her do her own thing.  Trusting that the Chief Engineer wouldn't be fucking about with anything that would make them float in dead space watching each other take another last breath.  When she heard someone calling out to her calling her 'pink skin' she froze for a long moment and slowly she looked over at the woman.  If looks could kill the woman would have lost her life right then and there.  The cold blue stare of breath taking crystalline blue eyes narrowed at the woman.  A piercing gaze that had leveled lesser officers.

“You think I, the Chief Engineer of the fucking ship you just left, would be over here fucking with things that I don't actually know shit about. If you would like to fucking go about dying because some conduit could have gotten loose during our jarring ejection from the fucking ship then you go do us all a fucking favor and lets do an experiment.  What color does an Andorian turn when he's suffocating in the vacuum of space?”  She looked over at her and then there was Cross. 

Cross admonished the Lieutenant and then he turned to her.  Using a softer tone, as if she was a child.  She was not a fucking child and her eyes narrowed further as she looked at the man waiting for him to speak more so.  “If any of you fuckers think that I would sabotage this fucking pod you can get fucked with a spiked club for all I give two shits.  I'm an engineer, I know what the fuck I'm doing.”  She slid the wires carefully back inside and closed the hatch.  Replacing the screws that she had taken out earlier and made them finger tight.  “You'll be thankful when you can still fucking breathe in an hour and the fucking wires that provide life support power didn't get shot.”  She slumped against the bulk head again and put her head into her hands again. 

Tears burned behind her eye lids.  She didn't want to be here.  She didn't want to be with them.  She wanted to be alone, or .. or with him.  Her other half, the only other person in the fucking world that would have understood she wasn't in there for no reason she was fucking making sure that everything was working right.  You couldn't always trust people to do the right job.  Most of the time it was great but she didn't want to put all her faith in something that might or might not have been double checked in the last several months.  The ejection from the ship had been jarring and she had thought it would be better.

Where are you?  Why aren't you here?  Why did you leave me, you should have been with me.  It should be your arm around my shoulders, as we try to figure out where to go.  I'm not good without you, you're my foundation, my ground.  I want you here.  How are you the only person in this whole fucking universe that gets me.

Blue leaned against the bulk head beside her and twisted her head to the side.  She didn't want to talk to anyone, she wouldn't be nice, she was never nice.  Ducote made her nice.  Ducote showed her how to be human and now literally half of her heart was either assimilated or dead.  She could not even imagine him in any other way but he sure as fuck wasn't here.  She wished that she could talk to him.  She wished that she could tell him a whole lot more how much she loved him.  It had been a word that was hard for her to say.  She had been abandoned in a way that was so basic and so foundation destroying that it had literally shaken her to the core.  Then.. there came Ranaan Ducote with his scruffy smiles and his understanding of her.  With his easy mental capacity to read her and to make space in his life for her.

I'm not good without you.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #9 –
[LtJr. Khelleshar sh'Zenne |  Sometime around 14:00 |ASRV-H93] @Fife  @patches @YasyraTrill @Blue Zephyr
[Show/Hide]


Shar opened her mouth and, at the same moment she did it, she knew that, whatever came out of her lungs, it was not going to be pretty. In fact, it probably entered in the category of  “disciplinary action and two weeks cleaning latrines" if they were on the Imperial Guard. Actually, if they were in Andoria, it would be a long time since one of them had died in an honor duel. This was not Andoria, nor Thonolan IV. But she did not care. In fact, what she most wanted in that moment was for that presumptuous know-it-all to receive a dose of Andorian fist that she didn't forget in her life. That THAT would be pretty, of course. Fuck the little space in that tin-can and the foul air and the damn borgs and …

And the Lieutenant Cross stopped her. The low grunt of the hybrid managed to penetrate in some way the drumming of the blood in her ears, with those words, those two damn words that could freeze her completely: "complete breakdown". No. She could not. Not again.

Shar took a deep breath, and gritted her teeth even closer, until they ground with an unpleasant screech. She clenched her fists even more, noting the viscosity of her own blood between her fingers. She exhaled, slowly, letting the air escape through the dilated wings of her nose. And she backed away. The Ops officer stepped back, painfully slowly. Controlling each of that  few strides until reach the window through which she had seen the Endeavour doom. She dropped herself in a calculated way to the floorplates, resting her fists closed in front of her, leaving pale blue spots under her fingers.

She would maintain discipline. She trully would. But she allowed herself a sidelong glance at the engineer, a promise without words. At some point, somewhere, both would remember this moment and the words that they had shared. And then the ranks would not matter, because then she would make her swallow each one of her presumptuous words letter by letter.

"Aye ... sir," she finally said. There would be time, oh yes, for more than words later, when they left that shit hole.

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #10 –
[Ensign Laurel Okhala | 1400-ish hrs | ASRV-H93 ] Attn: @patches @Blue Zephyr @Fife @Numen

Laurel wasn't really sure of anything at the moment. She knew they were on the ASRV, she knew that the Endeavour was gone, she knew that everyone was on edge. But she didn't know what to do about any of it.  If her head would just stop pounding for a minute maybe she'd be able to think. But a whole college drum line seemed to be warming up in her temples and her focus was shot. She grit her teeth and growled a little under her breathe, and she leant into Egon.

He smelt of the stale ozone that clung after phaser fire. In her haze of adrenaline and concussed babbling, she had not checked if he was alright. Too thankful that he was even on the pod at all. A pang at the thought as she recognized Blue was there but Ducote was not. Her mind began to wonder with thoughts of the rest of the crew she shook her head a bit to refocus on Egon. "Are you alright?" Asked as her head still leaning into his chest, the firm pressure dulling the pounding in her head enough for her to get the words out.

He grunted in acknowledgement but said nothing else as he leant her back to focus on her head once more. She vaguely heard the others arguing, and the tension rising in the room seemed to make her head pulse worse. She wished more than anything, that she could just close her eyes and forget where they were for a while, but every time she came close, Egon would shake her awake again. Jerk.

Unable to go to sleep and focus still jumping around like a toddler on a sugar high, her mind decided that now was a good time to apologize to Blue. Unaware of how dangerous engaging the engineer would be at that moment. Not even fully aware of the argument that was happening around her, only knowing that there was a general feeling of upset. "Sorry I broke your ship Blue."

Re: USS Endeavour: Tin Can Limbo

Reply #11 –
[ Lt. Cross | ASRV-H93 ] Attn: @YasyraTrill @Blue Zephyr @Numen @patches

Cross watched as the situation seemed to deescalate, with the Chief Engineer sitting back down and keeping to herself once more and the Andorian moving to sit one the floor. Seeing that there wasn’t going to be a scrap in the tight quarters of the pod, Cross exhaled and leaned his head back against the bulkhead, closing his eyes. He heard Ensign Okhala talk quietly to Ensign Julbi but made a point of not listening. What the couple said to one another was none of his concern. Then he heard Ensign Okhala speak louder.

“Sorry I broke your ship Blue.”

When Cross heard Ensign Okhala apologize to their prickly Chief Engineer for “breaking” her ship he couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. Was the obviously concussed Ensign trying to break the tension with humor? Or was she just plain concussed? Regardless, Cross found himself smiling at her apology.

“You didn’t break Blue’s ship, Ensign.” Cross said without opening his eyes, amusement plain in the tone of his voice. His tone became more serious as he continued. “Your flying was the reason we lasted as long as we did.” Cross finally opened his eyes and looked at the half-Romulan. “You did one hell of a job. Don’t apologize for that.” Seeing Okhala and Julbi both looking at him made him feel awkward. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, leaned his head back against the bulkhead once more, and closed his eyes. He chuckled quietly again at Okhala’s apology, then settled in to give meditation another try.

- FIN
 
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