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Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 01 [ 0700 hrs] The Salvage Job
Last post by Krajin -
[ Lt.JG Dominic 'Atlas' Winters | Wolf-10 | Near last known coordinates of Cayuga] Attn: @Brutus @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @Nesota Kynnovan @Stegro88

Atlas watched as distant stars streaked by while they travelled at Warp to the last known location of the Cayuga. It was boring and he had made conversation with his fellow wingmate along the way. Throwing bad dad jokes and puns around and the usual banter pilots go through. Coupled with Talia giving him the rundown of remote operations with his PADD and his fighter turned out to be a hoot. Until the dumbass tried it inside the fighter. Still it was amusing as heck while it lasted with the fighter now synced up to his PADD.

"Shuttlecraft Maslow, this is Wolf-10. All clear here. Roger on tying in probe sensors and beginning sweep." Atlas responded.

"Shadow, this is Atlas. Let's get ourselves busy. lets tie in and share our own sensor nets. If you have an idea on how to find a space-whale like the Cayuga out here, lay it out. I am thinking... if it has a leaking plasma system, we can track that?" He offered.

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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S [Day 03 | 2330hrs.] Lay Your Weary Head To Rest
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Kalandra? | Delta 5-2?] @Ellen Fitz @Griff @Dumedion

The blue hand flashed out and grabbed the jem'hadar rifle that peaked around the corner.  She ignored the slight increase in heat of the alloy that had been used to double-tap the unconscious and dead crew of the shuttle.  If there had been a chance of saving any of the medical flight it was now gone, and a haze of white rage flooded the Andorian's system.  The Jem'Hadar soldier stumbled inward, not expecting actual resistance, and he paid for it dearly as the alloy blade flashed forward with incredible speed.  Zark felt the vibrations of the blade separating muscle, tissue, and grating against bone as it plunged into soft neck.  Her stronger Andorian muscles yanked hard on the blade and the gurgling sound followed as a trail of black blood arced with the knife.  There was only shock in the Jem'hadar's face when he briefly caught a glimpse of the lithe blue blur that had ended his life. 

The next soldier pointed his rifle into the gap and tried get a shot off at the fast moving Andorian, and Zark gritted her teeth as the barrel of the rifle grated against her torso.  White hot pain flared in Zark's eyes as yanked the rifle past her body and winced as the rifle discharged with a screech mere centimetres away from her body.  Adrenaline and endorphins flooded her system as threw her elbow into the soldier's face and his head snapped back with a sickening crunch.  The furious Andorian gave a berserker's yell as she plunged her knife into the soldier's chest then pulled him in to the shuttle.  The blade came out and plunged into the jem'hadar's body again, and again, grunts of shocked pain echoing in her ear every time she plunged the blade in again.

This was becoming too much and for the Jem'hadar, Victory was life so the next soldier that followed his dead comrade in simply aimed and shot Zark's meat shield in the back several times.  The Andorian yelped first in surprise at the sudden change in momentum, then in pain as the dead body landed on top of her abused one and agony flared through her vision.   It seemed to take everything she had to pull the blade out and time seemed to move with syrupy slowness as she desperately threw it at the third soldier.  And her eyes widened as the soldier's face and body changed.  She could see brown locks, the familiar red lipstick, that elegant human neckline, those bright green eyes, and it was too late as the blade flew true.  The Jem'Hadar soldier gurgled as the blade sank into his throat and he went back with a loud gurgle and spray of black blood.

Zark shook off the hallucination and she could feel exoskeleton clicking against each other as she pushed the body off her and scrambled to her feet and charged the gap in the shuttle's hull.  Another body appeared in the gap and her body went on autopilot as she threw her body around the larger soldier with every intention of getting her thighs around his head.  And her mind screamed in denial when she saw the short black hair, violet eyes, and body spots of every Trill she'd ever encountered.  She felt like she was about to break when she got above the black hair and her body heaved using every bit of weight she had to toss him to the ground.  There was a stomach turning crunch as the head smashed into the shuttle's deck and she stopped, no longer sure if her mind was playing tricks on her.

The Andorian yelled in agony as she felt a searing pain plunge into her back as metal sank into her body.  There'd been on more jem'hadar outside and her distracted mind had fatally missed him.  Her body hacked and painfully heaved a coughing up a slick splash of blue onto the body below her.    "Zark, come on, we need you!" came a familiar voice.  What? her mind thought as everything seemed to beg her to give up.

[Intensive Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ]

The dishevelled Andorian looked up into desperately concerned blue eyes and nearly bald head and her body became rubbery as it began to waver.  She looked down once more at the battered Trill under her, a slick blue splat on the back of his head. "Doc......Leux?  What haaaapeneee....."  Zark trailed off as she coughed out a bit more blue blood on the Trill doctor once more then collapsed on him as she fainted.  The door's opened moments later as a quartet of security exosuits armed for bear came charging into the ICU with rifles pointed at the combat medic's limp body.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: C3: S [Day 2 19:45] Tis Not Goodbye...
Last post by P.C. Haring -
[Lt. Reggie Suder | Guest Quarters | Deck 06 |Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Stegro88‍ 

She hadn’t expected T’Less to melt into her arms so quickly.  Truth be told, Reggie had no fucking clue what she might have expected.  The Betazoid pulled the Vulcan in holding her tight, held tight in response and everything froze and melted away as the two remained locked in the moment. 

“Then you shall have,” she whispered.

Reggie’s finger brushed the tip of the Vulcan’s ear as her hand found it’s way to the back of her head and into the Vulcan’s hair as she caressed the back of her head.  Her other hand snaked up her back, pushing their breasts into each other.  Under other circumstances, Reggie might have pushed the envelope further, but time was against them.  Even if it were not, their re-connection was still fragile and she knew she would have to take it slow with T’Less.  For now, the comfort of being in her arms again, of having her in her arms again was more than enough for Reggie.

The chirp of the comm broke the mood.

Fuck

[Lieutenant Suder, please report to the flight deck.  Lieutenant Suder, report to the flight deck for repair inspection.]

Reggie sighed.  “Sounds like my ride’s fixed.”

She pulled away every so slightly, just enough to get her hand to her combadge.

“Acknowledged.  I’m on my way.”

She did not immediately pull away but rather held the embrace for another moment or two.  “Listen T’Less.  Don’t you die on me today.  I just got you back and I’m not willing to lose you again.  So If you die on me, I’m gonna kill you.”

She kept her tone light and soft, hoping her tone would convey the joke.
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Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 01 [2100hrs] When All is Stretched Thin
Last post by Dumedion -
[Ens. Talia "Shadow" Al-Ibrahim | Personal Transport | Inbound, Uluma Chain] Attn: @Ellen Fitz 

Her mouth opened to correct him instantly — 'dead reckoning was a method of navigation, not travel' — something intended to be playful but most likely misinterpreted as attitude; but then Talia realized Hirek was only teasing her. It wasn’t anything overt, either, but something in the way he paused, the way his tone subtly shifted…the intuition was there and gone, too fast for her to analyze properly. Hirek continued on anyway, in his way: clarification first, followed by measured response.

Flying without navigational computation? Yes, I am — no, I don’t see a problem here, Talia’s mind paraphrased.

Again, Talia opened her mouth to interject, and again Hirek continued; although neither of them seemed willing or able to draw attention to the physical contact of her hand atop his, even as the pressure there eased in unconscious synchronization as the spike of alarmed concern left her. Hirek dominated her attention, and through it all, Talia recognized the calm control he exerted; she’d seen it before, in herself and from instructors. Anyone who had grown accustomed to operating a craft long enough to do so almost by muscle memory alone moved and talked like that.

Okay, wonderful. Crisis averted.

Talia exhaled, nodded her understanding, and while the prospect of deliberately flying into turbulent weather still sat uneasy — she recognized the fact that Hirek clearly knew what he was doing and had far more experience doing it than her. It was his home, his craft; she trusted his ability then and there far more than her own, regardless how she felt about it.

That alone was more than sufficient reassurance, and in typical fashion, Talia opened her mouth to say so yet again — only this time, with an additional apology prepped and ready to fly — but then Hirek’s hand flipped and held hers. She couldn’t stop herself from looking, to verify what she felt.

He squeezed; Talia’s eyes darted back to Hirek’s face. Her lips parted with an unexpected smile, an unconscious response to his own. It wasn’t the usual one he wore; the one he greeted people with, or the one he flashed like a bullfighter’s cape to disarm and deflect her. It wasn’t the playful, flirty grin, either: it was real — she knew it, without a doubt, without any idea how. That smile alone, something so small and so easily taken for granted, affected Talia in ways she could never have prepared for and had zero defense against. The story that accompanied it was cute, sweet, and funny; she wondered if he planned on visiting this Aunt during their trip — the thought caused her attention to slip, just for a moment — while she seared the image of that smile and the way it made her feel into memory.

Hirek brought her back; she met his eyes and smiled again, softer, with another nod of understanding — then broke the connection to watch the approaching storms. Even as the tension left her body, there was no denying the thing-that-must-remain-unnamed — as it reared up inside her yet again, threatening, wild, yearning to be released. Nothing so basic as lust, because lust was easy — she knew lust.

No, this was something else entirely.

Lightning flashed, and Talia’s lips thinned in response as she inhaled — not quite a frown, more of a resignation — before Hirek released her hand. The loss was noted, cataloged, grieved; all at once. Her eyes fell closed as her head fell back to rest, hands gripping the harness straps at her shoulders; a habitual movement, borne of restlessness during long flights locked in a cockpit alone. A deep breath followed.

“I appreciate you,” Talia whispered, “just…don’t be surprised if I scream when this thing hits the water,” a smile cracked, just enough to show the attempt at humor as she glanced side long at him. “That’s not an invitation for you to try to make me, by the way — not right now.”

Later though? Who knows, Talia hid her smile behind a curtain of black hair, but she doubted Hirek missed that one. She hoped he didn’t. With everything going on, all the burdens and pressures of the current situation that he faced…

Talia realized how badly she wanted to see that smile again; she wanted to give him something else to think about, if only for the limited time they had left — but most of all, she wanted them to enjoy each other’s company. Simple things. Honest things. Everything sex should be, and rarely was; the nameless thing.

A girl could always dream, right?
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S [Day 03 | 2330hrs.] Lay Your Weary Head To Rest
Last post by Griff -
[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt | Intensive Care Unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ]  @Ellen Fitz @RyeTanker @Dumedion

[Show/Hide]

Alistair, while still distinctly woozy, surged to his feet after Arven's arm was broken like a twig, the horrific snap freezing him in horror. He had heard that snap before, many times, in memories long since muted to protect his fragile psyche. He glanced at Enyd...

She looks...

Blind terror and desperation drove Alistair to stagger towards Zark from behind, and without thinking, he grabbed her antennae, squeezed as hard as he could, then twisted and wrenched them in opposite directions with as much strength as he could muster, as if trying to physically yank them off her skull.

Whatever had happened to Zark, even she could not ignore such agony, and she screamed, though Alistair, blind terror surging through him, didn't dare let up. His eyes drifted down, however, to Arven, and without stopping to think, he let Zark go, grabbed the hypo from Arven's hand, and injected it right into the side of her neck. At that, he hurriedly stepped back, hands raised, but open.

"Zark, come on, we need you!" he pleaded desperately.
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Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 01 [2100hrs] When All is Stretched Thin
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Hirek tr'Aimne | Personal Transport | Inbound, Uluma Chain ] Attn: @Dumedion

He had been happy to answer the unspoken question about the fabric.

"Shaanel," he said. "Open enough to breathe in wet heat. Tight enough that spray beads and rolls off rather than soaking through. And the patterning is not decoration, whatever they tell you in the Dartha shops when they sell you an imitation at four times the price. Every family dyes at its own interval. A man raised properly can read your home reef off your sleeve at forty paces — very useful at festivals. Don't want to...hook up with a cousin."

Then she looked past him at the console, and her face changed. What arrived now was worry, stripped of the armor she usually wrapped it in. That was worth more attention than the question. Talia did not hesitate. She challenged, argued, improvised, and had survived a great deal by trusting her own instincts absolutely — so watching those instincts tell her something was wrong was considerably more interesting to him than the weather.

"Wait — are you navigating by dead reckoning?"

The laugh came first. The concern came in behind it and stayed, his pause connected directly to her hand atop his on the controls.

"Dead reckoning." He turned the phrase over. "Charming. Your people put the word dead at the front of a navigational term, and then express surprise when the passengers go pale." A glance sideways. "Every Federation text I have read accuses Romulans of morbidity. We have never once named a method of travel after a corpse." Hirek shook his head before she could complain of his teasing. "If you are asking whether I am flying on calculated position, heading, speed, conditions, and known reference points — rather than surrendering the question to a machine —" He studied her hand on his on the throttle housing. He did not move it. He did not mention it, either. "Yes. I am."

He let it sit. It was likely not the reassurance she'd been fishing for. He was not interested in supplying a comforting version in place of an accurate one.

"The instruments give me velocity, altitude, pressure, heading. I account for wind, current, temperature, and what these formations do to the weather sitting on top of them. The storms look unpredictable to people who do not live beneath them. And the same is true of the waves." His fingers moved on the trim — a correction so small the deck did not register it. "They are not. They have patterns. Complicated ones. Patterns that occasionally kill men arrogant enough to think they have finished learning them." He pulled his hand out from under hers just long enough to flip, letting their palms connect, his fingers sliding between hers. "Lucky for you I believe one never stops learning." The corner of his mouth moved. "I have made this crossing since before your grandmother was born. Not in some years — but the route has not changed. The currents are where I left them, and we have not employed weather modifications in some time, so the weather should hold as I remember as well. And then there is the fact that the islands have not wandered off."

He squeezed her hand, his lips pulling back in a full smile, one he hadn't felt the desire to show in some time, making the muscles in his face tug strangely as he overrode the instinct to hide the amusement behind wry humor. "While I've never gotten lost, I once arrived at my aunt's island rather than my own." No embarrassment in it whatsoever. If anything, enjoyment. "Same chain. The correction cost me forty minutes and a great deal of dignity. She was delighted. She informed me that if I wished to visit, I might simply have visited — rather than staging an elaborate navigational failure for the sake of my pride." A breath through the nose. "She has repeated this at every family gathering since."

Something escaped him that was very nearly a laugh. Then it wasn't when he remembered Talia's fears had been real.

"The greatest danger in navigation is not the absence of automation." His eyes flicked toward her. "It is confidence without understanding. The machine will tell you exactly where you are, with enormous conviction, until the moment it is wrong."

He'd learned that at eleven, on a reef that looked entirely flat from the surface, with an oyster hunter's fist knotted in his shirt hauling him out of a current he had not read. He did not say so. She had her own version of the lesson — he'd read it on her the first time they met, in the way she checked exits before she checked faces.

Across the churning water, a flash of lightning bolted across the sky. He watched her response. Hirek had spent sixty years excellent at the beginning of things. The approach, the wit, the practiced escalation, the graceful exit before anyone had to learn anything true about him. He had never once been good at whatever this was.

"Your concern is noted." A pause. Quieter: "And appreciated." Then he returned his attention to the water, pulled his hand from hers to check various instruments, and left the acknowledgment where it lay rather than explaining it into something smaller.
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Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 01 | 2200 hrs | The hunt is on
Last post by Eirual -
[Ens Mia Dunne | Emergency Warp Core Jettison Control | Vector 3 | Deck 32 | USS Theurgy ]
ATTN: @Pierce, @Nesota Kynnovan

Mia was pissed beyond belief. She had told that upstart Frost that she wanted to work on her lab repairs, not crawl around the innards of the ship looking for something the idiot zoologist should never have kept on the ship. They wanted her to capture the damned thing, but she was more inclined to shoot it out the nearest airlock.  She and the other scientist assigned to this Vole hunt were sent to start at Deck 32. Sikia was nowhere to be seen yet, but this deck was almost non-existent. She poked her head into every dark crevasse she could find, shining her wrist lamp along any wiring bundles there were.

Nothing but what one would expect to see in the jettison control area. She really did not like being here. Yes she had a rebreather, but if they did have to jettison the warp core while she was in here poking around, she’d be turned into a pancake right before she was shot out with the core. That thought was not pleasant at all and she crawled back the way she came. She didn’t bother to look in the landing strut. Voles were drawn to power sources and the strut didn’t have any.  She got to the small Jefferies tube to climb up to the next deck. Pausing a moment to mark on her PADD that she’d inspected the area with no sign of the Vole.
Climbing the ladder and stepping onto Deck 31 she looked around and shook her head closing the access hatch behind her, “Maybe Frost should get his ass down here and find the damn thing himself. He seems to like power too!”
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Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 02 [ 1015 hrs ] Calcium Deficiency
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Corpsman Ehfva Feynri | Main Sickbay | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @TWilkins

The elders of Okashii Atama had taught her that silence was not absence but a room with furniture in it, and Ehfva had spent ninety-two years learning to walk through that room without barking her shins. The device had changed the arrangement. Not the furniture — the number of people sitting in it.

The first moments after Arven had installed it, every shift had been like stepping into a hall where three arguments were already underway and all of them concerned her. The shape of her ears. The length of her claws. Whether she should be standing at all, or low, or gone. She had thought, briefly, that she was coming apart. That the Savi had reached into whatever held a Vulpinian together and left the seams unfinished.

She no longer thought that. The voices had not gone quiet; they had simply stopped sounding like intruders. Now they sounded like kin waiting at the edge of the firelight for someone to make room — and her grandmother had raised her to make room. You should choose us next. All three unchosen forms. Always.

She still had not been able to shift into all her forms, saving her female form for last as she felt it was the most vulnerable. The form she wore this shift was the male Vulcine, worn at Arven's request — one more configuration, one more confirmation that the biology had translated correctly down to the marrow. It was a broad face, heavier through the brow and jaw, the nose strong, the eyes deep-set and brown and slow to give anything away. Dark hair fell to the line of the jaw and would not stay behind the ear no matter how many times the hand went up to put it there. The hands themselves were large. Warm. Blunt at the fingertips.

Keokuk had known this face. He had known it before he had known the others. He had called them her spirits and said he was honored to be introduced. He had never once flinched, in any of them. But this was the face that he'd preferred, though he'd never said the words aloud, as it was the first he'd fallen in love with.

She adjusted the medical tunic across shoulders and kept moving down the row of biobeds.

The last morning together had been a Tuesday. Replicated tea gone lukewarm because she'd let it sit. Some grain thing he liked, and she tolerated. They had said perhaps forty words to each other, and none of them had been worth writing down — the duty roster, someone's transfer, whether the sonic unit was cycling wrong again. She had finished first. She had stood, and touched his shoulder, and kissed his cheek in the exact place she had kissed it ten thousand times, in the exact way that meant nothing at all because it meant everything and neither of them had ever needed to say so.

Then she had gone to shift, and he had stayed at the table to finish reading his holonovel before heading to his duty station.

She would give a great deal to have that back. Not a speech, not a reckoning, not the words she had assembled since in the long hours of not sleeping. The tea. The grain thing. His shoulder under her hand for four seconds while she was already thinking about something else.

Some wounds did not close simply because the bleeding stopped. But there was work, and the work wanted hands, and the hands still knew what to do. She was halfway through a patient's status review when the conversation reached her from the other side of the ward.

A Vulcan voice, level and headed toward "no." A younger voice, human, pitched high and fast and apologizing before it had finished a sentence. And something else. Something small and alive, shifting in a woven container, its weight redistributing in tiny increments as it moved. Ehfva's ears would have turned if she'd had them.

She did not recognize the creature. She had never seen anything like it — no taxonomy she'd studied offered it a shelf, and she had studied a great many out of curiosity and a love for all creatures. But she did not need to recognize it to recognize the way the young officer was holding it. He had adjusted his grip twice while she watched, both times to spare the animal and neither time to spare himself. He was not afraid of it. He was afraid for it.

Escaped from the Erudite, she heard. Genetic anomaly.

The voices in the back of her mind arrived all at once and, for the first time since Arven had put the device in her, in complete agreement. Small thing. Unknown biology. Investigate. Help it.

The Savi had not hated her. That was the part no one understood when she declined to discuss it. They had cataloged her. They had opened her and made her four things at once and written down what happened, and when she screamed they had recorded the frequency. Something that had been made in a Savi laboratory and had gotten out was, as far as she was concerned, kin.

She crossed the ward before the Vulcan could finish declining.

"Excuse me." Her voice came out lower than her ear expected, with the rumbling growling timber of her species ever at the edges. She stopped a respectful pace short and inclined her head to the Vulcan first, then to the young officer. "Ehfva Feynri. Corpsman. I came off the Erudite as well." A pause she let stand. "I was rescued from the Savi." The container drew her gaze and she let it, without stepping nearer. "I have no xenobiology degree. I have sixty years of independent study in species adaptation, comparative anatomy, and induced genetic modification."

Then she looked at the young man properly. He was attractive, even with the wide-eyed concern he had for the creature. If anything, his obvious care and consideration of the creature enhanced his physical features and brought a ready endearment from her.

"You could have left it. No one would have recorded that you found it, and no one would have asked you about it again." She held his eyes a moment longer than was comfortable. "Such was my possible fate." Her gaze went back to the container. Whatever was inside had gone still, listening. She put a hand over her heart and gave the man another nod. "We thank you for taking notice." Glancing at the Vulcan once, she returned her attention to the creature and the man and gestured in a different direction. "There are unused labs in the medical annex. Full containment, full sensors, no one's shift disrupted. I will examine it with every precaution, if that is your choice."  She extended a hand toward the container — open, not reaching, near enough to be refused. "Let me help."
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Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 01 [ 0700 hrs] The Salvage Job
Last post by Eirual -
[Kelistina Kavot Droga | Crew Compartment | Shuttlecraft Maslow | Near last known coordinates of USS Cayuga]
Attn: @RyeTanker, @Ellen Fitz, @Dumedion, @Krajin, @Nesota Kynnovan  & @anyone else

Kelistina had joined the group that was being sent to gather what they could from one of their vessels. She figured that taking things apart would be a lot easier than trying to fix what she was unfamiliar with. With everything that had happened to her adopted ship family, she felt it was the least she could do.

The seat she had been assigned was less than comfortable and she found herself on her feet more often than not, even if she was relegated to ducking her head within the small craft.  She looked again at the tools that had been sent along with the group. Even if they looked slightly different from what she had previously owned, most of them looked close enough for her to understand their use. The scanner still caused issues for her, not that she could not use it, but that she was still learning their language and reading the little screen’s readouts sometimes made her more confused. 

She heard the change in the engines as he little ship dropped from what they called Warp Speed. Shuffling forward to look out the front of the ship she looked at the stars surrounding them, but did not see the vessel anywhere. She mused aloud, mostly to herself,  “is ship no where should be? Maybe not right place?” She paused a moment, “Maybe some others take first?” She didn’t expect any replies to her voiced thoughts.

OCC : RL had been horrid these past several months. Hopefully is back to being good. Or at least better.
10
Interregnum 02-03 S2 / Re: Day 01 [ 0700 hrs] The Salvage Job
Last post by Nesota Kynnovan -
[Lieutenant Dr. Nathan Frost, Ph.D. | Science Station | Shuttlecraft Cattell]
Attn: @RyeTanker, @Ellen Fitz, @Dumedion, @Krajin

Lieutenant Nathan Frost was rudely awakened from a dreamless sleep by a jab in his side. A sharp gasp escaped the Canadian’s lips as his blue eyes fluttered open, and he shot into an upright position in the comfortable seat of the Science Station while trying to regain his bearings. The first thing Frost registered was the smiling form of Crewman Amy Jenson who was standing right in front of him and, as the startled Chief Science Officer rubbed his side with an accusing look on his face, he noticed how the smile on the red-haired botanical technician’s face became more apologetic. He could hear how the Crewman began to speak up, saying ”…I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry!” on a tone of voice that further accentuated her apologetic smile, but while the woman apologized Frost noticed that the Cattell was no longer at warp.

As Frost got out of his seat and made his way in between the Pilot’s seat, which was manned by Ensign Yavya Vass of Theurgy’s Operations Department, and the empty Co-Pilot’s seat which had been previously manned by Crewman Amy Jenson, he could hear how the female Bolian officer spoke up to answer a hail. ”Maslow, this is the Cattell. Reporting in as ordered, we’re here in one piece.”. While the woman spoke, Frost could hear a certain confusion in the Bolian officer’s voice that he shared with her; as he looked out the viewscreen, there was no sign of the USS Cayuga. At least not visually. Feeling a pang of annoyance, which was rather obvious on his face, the Canadian looked at the controls in front of him and pressed a couple of buttons to bring up the sensor feed. ”Where’s the Cayuga? She should have been right here.”

Behind him, Petty Officer First Class Timothy Tapp spoke up as well. ”What about stellar drift?” Upon hearing those words, Frost turned around and looked at the bald-headed, bearded Security Officer who mainly served as Theurgy’s armorer. The man was sitting at the Tactical Station of their type-11 shuttlecraft and was looking towards him with a friendly smile on his face that only further accentuated his voice. ”Maybe the sensors didn’t account for that. If one of Cayuga’s compartments suddenly depressurized, maybe because of a sudden impact with a micro-asteroid or any number of reasons, it could have sent the ship in a direction our sensors can’t account for.”

While Frost hadn’t thought of that before, he stared at the Security Officer while he came up with a valid response. After a couple of seconds, he shrugged and spoke up as well. ”I thought of that, but a sudden depressurization would have left debris behind.” As he spoke, Frost’s Canadian-accented voice had the reassuring tone of someone who had thought of every possibility, which left him somewhat unprepared when the Security Officer, who was just trying to help, spoke up once more. ”What about solar winds?” In response, Frost turned around to look at the sensor readings again. ”I can’t find any debris on our sensors, and solar winds would have left behind traces of residual radiation. There’s nothing there.”

Petty Officer First Class Tapp remained silent and, as Frost turned around, he noticed that the Security Officer was thinking of something else. It prompted the Chief Science Officer to present the enlisted man with a friendly nod to recognise his efforts. ”It’s not a bad train of thought though.” As he finished talking, a gasp from Crewman Amy Jenson drew his attention. The red-haired woman had just made it back to the Co-Pilot’s seat and, spurred on by the brainstorming, suddenly spoke up. ”Wait, what if a passing stellar object, something large enough to project its own gravity field, passed through the system?” The botanical assistant looked at Frost, and the Canadian met her enthusiastic gaze. ”Maybe it missed the Cayuga but pulled it along in its gravitational field?”

It was something Frost hadn’t thought of either and, as he thought of the possibility, he nodded in quiet respect for the Crewman’s suggestion. ”That’s… not a bad idea at all, miss Jenson.” He turned to face the female Bolian in he Pilot’s seat and spoke up once more. ”Miss Vass, relay that thought to the Maslow for consideration.”

While Frost turned around, he reached out with his left hand to pat Crewman Jenson on the shoulder before making his way back to the Science Station. As he made his way there, the Canadian could hear how Ensign Vass spoke up. ”Shuttlecraft Maslow, this is the Cattell. Just a thought from us, but do the probes show any large special objects that are passing through the system? We theorize that something with a gravity field might have snatched the Cayuga by sheer happenstance."
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