SD241910.?? || Joint Log [Part 1] || "Rescue Op"

Posted on 14 Oct 2019 @ 7:50pm by Lieutenant Commander Jacqueline Wallace-Shaw & Lieutenant Talrian Bran & Lieutenant Madalene Sabine

1,590 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Tyr's Hand
Timeline: OOC: This is a multi-part joint log, but not all parts will be sent tonight. The latter parts time with other joint logs that will be sent later.

=/\= Pilfered Military Aircraft =/\=

Despite what Cindreth felt, morale for pilot and crew seemed at an all-time low. Quinn wanted to be hopeful that his sister was close, and he didn't think that Cindreth was lying, but the Betazoid looked...rough. The pilot worried just how accurate the man's senses were now, given what had happened and where they were. He almost felt bad feeling that, but reality was reality.

Unfortunately.

They were all tense. It was so thick inside the plane that even a human could feel it. It made Quinn's skin uncomfortable, but he couldn't give in to the feeling. He had to figure out how to get this damned bird in the air, but he figured out the controls and started the plane forward toward the runway.

That was precisely when, Quinn knew, some fast talking and possible new shit-storm would come.

=/\= Clinic in Alaska =/\=

Things had been quiet and uncomfortable for a while now as they waited for the doctor to come back. It may have been a minute. It may have been an hour. Jacky had no idea... It all felt the same.

Finally, the door opened. A dour-faced doctor walked in. "We've located a functioning hospital that can take her, but..." He hesitated.

"But ..." Roman repeated. He knew what the man would say because his luck had gone from bad to worse since he'd met this woman. Granted she was hurt and probably more than a little crazy and so not his problem and yet, he couldn't walk away until he was sure she was going to be alright.

"We don't have a vehicle to take her," he said. "Our town's last ambulance hit a mine a week ago."

"Of course it did," Roman said quietly. "I still have my truck. Can you prepare her for transport?"

The doctor nodded, looking at turns relieved and apologetic. "We will give her some medication to try to stabilize her for the drive and will get you directions to the hospital."

=/\= Pilfered Military Aircraft =/\=

"FC-607, you have not been cleared for launch. Stop the craft now and report."

There it was.

"Well, Lieutenant," Quinn said, his expression taut as he focused on learning the controls on-the-fly, as it were. "Talk fast or fly faster?"

"The conjunction is not mutually exclusive," Talrian growled as he glared out the cockpit windows to what he assumed was the control tower. While Romanov was working on learning controls to fly the plane, Talrian was equally busy - trying to learn the weapons systems. He felt he knew the controls operating the radio system.

"Control, troop transfers from unit 1138," Talrian said, hoping he got the communication controls right.

"FC-607, we have no records of that flight, stand down and wait for confirmation."

"Now would be a good time for the 'fly fast' part, Lieutenant," Talrian growled before opening the communication again. "Negative, orders came from the top." Talrian kept talking.

"Working on it," Quinn returned with a growl. He almost had it, though, and was getting ready to lift off...hopefully.

"Bakkar, Johnson, find out whatever it was they used to take down our shuttle and make it gone."

"The other planes," Cindreth muttered.

Kawolski sat beside Cindreth, trying to keep the man calm and sedated. His vitals were getting worse the longer this went on and it was even worse now since they lost the shuttle and didn't know when they would be able to get communications back with the ship and allow Cindreth to stop what he's doing. For a fleeting moment he wondered how the other telepaths on the ship must be faring if it was this hard on Cindreth.

"Worse," the Betazoid said, gripping Kawolski's arm. "Much worse. But not as bad as the naked doubt and mistrust on this plane," Cindreth's eyes turned to bore into the back of Romanov's head. He probably shouldn't do it, and he was sure the Terran would complain later about the 'violation' but there were other considerations. Survival for one. So he pushed taking what he learned from others on the base about the operation of this plane. He pushed it straight into Romanov's thoughts.

Quinn gasped when he felt the sensation, and suddenly, his head was pounding... It passed after a couple moments, and he just as suddenly...knew...more... "We're lifting off now," he said. He would worry about the "how" later.

=/\= Clinic in Alaska =/\=

She was back in the front seat again, warm and medicated; the tank was full and he had, mercifully, a t thermos full of coffee to keep him going. After listening to the doctor's last instructions, Roman climbed in behind the wheel and set off. He turned on the music, one of the Brandenburg Concertos, and settled in for the long haul.

=/\= Pilfered Military Aircraft =/\=

They were in the air, and Quinn had no intention of letting anyone stop them. Looking at the map on sensors from the plane, he saw that they were in the Pacific Northwest of the United States...as it was at that time. It didn't help to know where the crew, and his sister, were, but it was still good to know...

"North!" Cindreth barked, jerking upright. "Cold, so...cold...north...go...moving, she's...moving."

Cindreth knew that there was a subset of Betazoids that found it rude to use telepathy with non telepaths without their permission. He wasn't one of those, much like most of his brethren, he believed in their right to the sanctity of thoughts. But, now, in this situation he understood the other viewpoint. Words were...inadequate. Especially now, when he was so weak and tired...when his head felt like exploding with each heartbeat. How did he convey what he was getting from the...the...the best he could come up with was crewmate. Even that was hard to hold onto because the more he opened himself up to get to her location, the more the pain of the world flooded through him.

NO! he commanded, once again grabbing Kawolski's hand to keep him from administring more medication. He'd already been given too much and it was affecting his ability. As he glared at Kawolski, he didn't realize it but the young corpsman did - where his eyes were nothing but black pupils, the rest were bloodshot but the worst part is that while his gaze was fixed on Kawolski, his sight was worlds away...or just a world away, as if he encompassed everything at once.

"Tell him to stop!" Kawolski said, jerking his arm back and turning to fact Talrian. "This is killing him!"

"No," Talrian said, simply, without even turning to face the corpsman. He knew what he was asking of his security officer and...he hated the Utilitarian school of philosophy, but in this case...

"Shit! This is a fucking mess!" Erikson said, trying make heads or tails of the systems. Goddamn primitive shit, Erikson thought as he worked on connecting things. "Okay... Doubt this'll work, but give it a try." Using a hyper spanner and few other tools as he connected wires and some workings-chips to the old-school computer boards.

It was a mess and ugly but that didn't matter all that matter was making it worked and it helped them get out of this godforsaken situation. Pulling out some of the EPS conduits onto the board before putting it back in. The next step was using the optical data-network and few more iso-chips.

=/\= En Route to Hospital Elsewhere in Alaska =/\=

Jacky stopped so quickly that she almost blacked out on the spot. Something...

Chirp-chirp.

Chirp-chirp.

The noise was familiar but so out of place that it took her a minute to figure out what it was. She shoved her hand into her pocket--where she always kept her comm badge even when she was in civilian wear--and pulled out the small emblem, staring at it and barely breathing.

Chirp-chirp.

Jacky stole a quick look, as best she was able, and stifled the nausea from moving her head as she tapped it. "Wallace-Shaw here," she said, barely believing that the little device had a voice...

Roman turned enough to see what she was doing and then returned his attention to the road. For the first time since meeting her, he began to wonder if there was something underneath all the stuff that didn't make sense. Something that could explain what she'd been on about. Because she was being secretive about it, he said nothing and instead, took a long sip of coffee.

"This is...tenant Bran...we...com...get...py?" Talrian's voice was coming over the makeshift device Erickson cobbled together on the fly. He hated the aircraft because it was so slow compared to their shuttle, but it was the best they had. He had to admire Erickson's ingeniuty in creating a bridge between the primitive technology they stole and their own. He made sure that a mental note to put that into the final report he would turn over to the captain for Erickson's hearing. That was only fair.

"...Lieu...ant...Rian...do...cop...?" his voice came again over the communicator.

"Please repeat!" Jacky said, even if the tone of her own voice made everything hurt worse. The pain behind her eyes was so bad now that she almost couldn't see, but she knew that her comm badge--her one link to home--was trying to talk to her. "I... I can't understand you," she said, voice strained.

=/\= To Be Continued...

 

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