Part of USS Atlantis: Journeys and Bravo Fleet: Labyrinth

Journeys – 11

USS Atlantis
September 2401
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“No response from Perseus ma’am.” Samantha Michaels’ announcement wasn’t the most welcome piece of news on the bridge of Atlantis at that moment. “And we’ve just lost communications with the probes around the aperture as well.”

“May I?” asked Rrr, who’d been standing behind their immediate junior officer, taking over at Ops as soon as Sam vacated the seat and headed immediately for one of the secondary stations around the bridge. “Level 5 diagnostic doesn’t show any issues with the subspace transceiver.”

“I’d hope not,” Sam said. “We gave it a once over while Engineering was busy with the warp coils.”

“And it was just working,” Rrr added.

Gantzmann, who’d risen to her feet earlier, stepped up to the part where the helm and operations met. “What about comms with the away teams?”

Rrr’s fingers danced over the console, then stopped after a satisfied little chirp from the computer. “Still good. We’re still getting updates from their tricorders and a system check of the commbadges came through fine.”

Gantzmann nodded, taking a moment to think before looking at the Vulcan at her right. “T’Val, I want you and another pilot to take shuttles to the surface. As close as possible to both away teams and standby. If we lose comms, we’ll lose transporters too. Let’s be prepared, shall we?”

“Aye ma’am,” T’Val answered, signalling for a replacement to come to the bridge before she departed, leaving the ship in the capable hands of automation for a few minutes.

“Rrr, find out what is blocking comms and see if we can’t find a way around it.” Gantzmann then turned on Sam, indicating to the turbolift with a flick of her head. “Before you volunteer to help out Lieutenant, I’m ordering you to go get some rest.”

“No argument from me, ma’am.” Sam complied with her quick exit off the bridge.

Rrr waited for Sam to leave before smiling, looking at Gantzmann with a tilt of their head. “Oh please, this is infinitely more exciting than her entire shift had been. She was just waking up.”

“Adrenaline,” Gantzmann answered as she returned to the centre seat. “And besides, I’d rather let her have a chance to rest some before a crisis draws her back to the bridge.”

“She is proving to be rather keen. Half expecting her to find a posting somewhere else in the fleet and leave me without a trusted junior.” Rrr’s attention shifted back to their console. “Now, let’s see if we can’t find out what is playing havoc with our subspace communications.”

 


 

“Lieutenant Tabaaha,” T’Val said by way of greeting as she passed through the main entrance into Atlantis’ aft shuttlebay, the doors already opened by the deck chief in preparation for launch. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting anyone else when I summoned you.

Beside the American Indian young woman stood what T’Val knew was one of her friends, the vaguely troublesome security officer Ensign Linal Nerys, and Atlantis’ most colourfully haired nurse, Ensign Amber Leckie. Neither of whom were pilots, or had been asked for, but were present and both wielding phaser rifles like they were going somewhere.

“Uh, well ma’am,” Leckie spoke up, stammered momentarily but finding herself quickly. “We were all in Port Royal when you called. And Nerys and I figured both shuttles could do with an offsider naturally, and security trained ones at that.”

“If we’re say evacuating under fire and someone needs to give cover from a door,” the Bajoran security officer spoke up. There was confidence in the way she spoke, unlike how Leckie had started. Confidence and determination that T’Val knew had gone down on Linal’s performance reviews more than a few times as ‘stubborn’ and ‘argumentative’.

“You determined all of this from a request for Lieutenant Tabaaha to report to the shuttlebay?” T’Val asked.

“We may have had a bit more warning,” Kelly Tabaaha added, looking just a touch sheepish. “Lieutenant Michaels messaged Nerys and told her about the comms blackout.”

“I see.” T’Val made a mental note to speak with Lieutenant Michaels about this in the future. And with Lieutenant Rrr’mmm’ball’rrr as well. She wasn’t averse to the outcome, but found she would have appreciated if perhaps Michaels had communicated with her about it first. She knew it was likely she’d have agreed, but then it would have been a mutual decision, not a surprise.

“So we’re good then?” Tabaaha asked.

“We are good,” T’Val answered, the last word leaving her mouth unhappily. She’d never liked that particular phrase, but it would suffice and allow them to move along. “Ensign Linal, you’re with me.”

“I can’t fly with Kelly?” Linal immediately asked.

“No,” T’Val answered. “I won’t have close colleagues flying with each other. And if you disagree, I am certain I can –”

“Okay, I get it,” Linal interrupted, which caused T’Val’s left eyebrow to raise in an uncontrolled display of frustration. The Bajoran woman then turned on Leckie, who as a nurse and in blue looked a little out of place with a weapon, but it had to be remembered she was a member of one of the Hazard Teams aboard ship. “Keep her safe.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Leckie replied with a wink. “I’ll make sure she never leaves the pilot’s seat.”

“If posturing is complete, could we continue?” T’Val asked, eliciting an apology from Leckie and a perplexed look from Linal. “Lieutenant Tabaaha, I will be taking Lesbos down and landing as close to the cave entrance that Lieutenant Maxwell and his team entered. When Gondwana is ready, head for Commander Camargo’s position.”

Gondwana?” Tabaaha asked as she cast her eyes towards the four older Danube-class runabouts stored aboard ship and specifically the one with a number of deck crew scrambling around. “Right ma’am. We’ll be down there as quick as we can.”

With nothing further to say, T’Val dismissed Tabaaha and Leckie before heading for the waiting Lesbos, kept on standby ever since the captain had left with Waihou only a few days ago now. “Ensign Linal, what are your flight qualifications?”

“You don’t want me flying,” Linal answered.

“That wasn’t what I asked Ensign.”

There was a sigh, edging on petulant from Linal. “6A, 9 and 12,” she finally answered. “And good enough to pass small craft certification, but that’s it.”

“I see.” They continued in silence across the shuttlebay, the Lesbos waiting for them, engines at the ready. “Perhaps Ensign, since we have the opportunity, you would like to learn the difference between the smaller shuttles and the Type-14?”

“Do I have much of a choice in the matter?” Linal asked as she closed the shuttle hatch behind the two of them.

“For the next ten minutes, no.”

Further down in the shuttlebay, Kelly and Amber watched as Lesbos lifted off and exited. Gondwana was still warming up, flight systems being given a once over by the deck crew before Kelly would do her own abbreviated pre-flight. “Good money that Nerys drives Lieutenant T’Val crazy,” Amber said after a few moments, Lesbos a speck of light in the distance before it arced downwards towards the ring’s surface.

Kelly barked a single laugh. “No way. T’Val is as Vulcan as they come. Nerys will be pulling her hair out in short order.”

“She better not,” Amber replied. “I like her hair.”

“Like, or like-like?”

Amber shrugged, offered a smile, and then turned for the runabout. “Haven’t decided,” she answered. “Maybe you can tell me a bit more about her?”

“Oh boy, where to I even start?” Kelly asked as she followed. “Well…”