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I
"Dropping out of warp now, Captain." Delor Kovos announced as the screen before them displayed an image of the familiar starfield of the Mavaki system.
Colin studied it briefly from his seat in the center of the bridge, alert for any signs of activity. "Raise shields and activate long range sensors." he finally said once satisfied there was no immediate danger to the Prometheus.
Naeve Sevril complied from her station at Ops, depressing several keys in rapid succession. There were no positive findings for neutrinos or gravimetric distortions but she was readily able to locate the region with elevated theta radiation levels.
"I've pinpointed the concentration of the radiation emissions but we're too far away for our scanners to pick up details."
"Very well. Relay the coordinates to Mr. Kovos' station." he gripped the arm rest of his chair in anticipation and glanced at his first officer. Although he hid it well, Mark O'Conner appeared as anxious for answers as he.
"Coordinates recieved." Delor said crisply.
"Very well. Set course for the source at one quarter impulse. I want continuous scans, Mr. Sevril."
"Acknowledged." Naeve kept one eye on her console and the other on the view screen as she sorted throught the sensor data for pertinent information. As the Prometheus neared its destination, she was able to make out an object onscreen. No, not an object. A ship. Most definately a ship.
"Ensign, come to a full stop and go to yellow alert." Colin commanded as he studied the disturbing image before him. A Klingon Bird of Prey floated in space, it's once sleek body marred with scorch marks from photon blasts and plasma burns. It lay tilted on its side, exposing its vast underbelly to the Prometheus. Bits of debris and twisted metal surrounded a breach in the hull underneath one of the ship's wings.
Mark gave a low whistle. " I wonder what chewed that up and spit it out?" he murmered under his breath. * I hope it's long gone.*
"Are there any other vessels in the area?" Colin asked.
"No sir. Although, I am picking up several subspace field stresses around the Klingon ship." Nave answered.
"Any warp signatures?"
"None that I can pick up. Depending on how long ago this happened, the ion trail may be cold by now."
"Is anyone aboard?"
"I'm detecting several faint life signs."
"Can we beam them to Sickbay?"
"No sir. There's a magnetic field surrounding thier hull. Our transporters can't penetrate it."
"Hail them."
After a moment, Naeve shook her head. "There's no reply."
Colin frowned. "How may are there exactly?"
Naeve was already scanning her sensor data as he spoke. "Four."
Colin stood up and studied the image of the damaged ship more closely. What was a Klingon Bird of Prey doing in an uninhabited system of seemingly little value in Federation space? There was only one way to find out. The answer lay with those onboard.
He turned to face Mark, who appeared to be deep in thought. "Any suggestions, Exec?"
" I recommend boarding the ship, Sir. To rescue those that survived, and retrieve the ship's logs. They may have the answers we need." he answered immediately.
"Agreed. Assemble an away team. I want you on that ship in 15 minutes."
********** "Approaching Klingon vessel, sir." Ensign Ver Deset informed Mark as he cautiously circled the derelict, giving the shuttle's occupants a close up view of the destruction that had taken place earlier. The SS Maverick was a medium sized shuttle, but it seemed quite crowded with Mark, the Bolian pilot, Mirana Keset, Turek, and Angela Bellini, a security officer Turek had brought with him.
"Bring it alongside the hull breach." Mark commanded and Maverick banked sharply to the right to comply. The hole was large enough to fit the entire shuttle within.
"Any immediate life signs?"
"No, sir."
"Then fly her in, Ensign. Keep the shields up and weapons ready until I tell you otherwise."
Ver glanced at Mark sharply but the other man's face was determined. He eyed the gaping hole in the Bird of Prey doubtfully, then carefully eased the shuttle into the fractured hull. He landed it in what appeared to be a cargo bay. A heavily damaged cargo bay.
Mark affixed the helmet on his e-suit, a cue for the other members of the boarding party to do the same, and turned to Ver. "Stay with the shuttle, Mr. Deset. We'll report in every 15 minutes to update you on our progress. If we miss a scheduled check in and you can't raise us by commbadge, get out of here and return to Prometheus immediately. Got it?"
"Understood." Ver promptly acknowledged.
"Are the rest of you ready?" Mark glanced at his assembled group, waited for an affirmatiive response, and climbed out of the Maverick. The Klingon ship was obviously running on emergency power--the group looked eerie with the reddish hue of the dim lights reflected off their helmets. Mirana cold barely see her crewmates in the semidarkness.
Mark took the lead with Turek; Mirana and Angela Bellini followed, all four officers brandishing tricorders.
"The bridge is o our left, 5 decks up. There's an access tunnel nearby that we can use. I'm also detecting faint lifesigns but I can't localized where they're coming from." Angela said, examining her tricorder.
"Let's try the bridge first. Maybe we'll be able to use the ship's computer to locate survivors." Mark took a step forward in the direction of the access hatch.
"We need to find them quickly, Commander." Mirana objected. "by the look of these readings, whoever is aboard wont' survive much longer without medical attention. I can search for them while you go to the bridge."
"I would not advce splitting the team at this time. The dangers aboard are unknown. It would be logical to choose one course of action." Turek pointed out.
Mark turned to face Mirana. " I understand your concern, Doctor, but Turek's right. We need to stick together, and searching the ship blindly won't help us or those aboard. We'll try to find them from the bridge." He consulted his tricorder and pointed ahead, further into the red hued semi darkness. "The access hatch is close by. Follow me and stay together."
Mirana climbed into the crawl space on her hands and knees, maneuvering clumsily in her protective suit. She envied the fluid way Mark moved up the ladder above her in his suit, making a difficult task appear effortless. Grabbing clumsily at the nearest rung, she hoisted herself up the ladder after him. Irritated at the way her labored breathing fogged up the glass of her helmet, she guiltily vowed to spend more time in the ship'sxercise room. Although her body was slender, she avoided the gym as a rule, and her lack of cardiovascular fitness was evident. How embarrassing for a physician. Her heavy boots caused her to lose her footing repeatedly during the climb and Angela Bellini had learned to stay well below the doctor to avoid injury. Grimly, Mirana reaffirmed her grip and plowed doggedly upward. They'd be there in no time---there were only three decks to go.
*******
Mark knelt over the body of what once had been a Klingon bridge officer, feeling compelled to check for a pulse even though it was evident his heart had long since ceased beating. He reached out with two fingers and gently closed the sightless eyes, silently commmending his soul to Sto'vo'kor. It appeared that the cause of death was a fragmented wound to the chest caused by an exploding console. Mark sighed as he stepped away from the Klingon. There were five more bodies nearby with similar wounds and the entire bridge was a mass of burnt consoles and mangled circuitry.
"I believe I have found the commander of this vessel." Turek announced from behind. Mark turned towards the sound of his voice, his eyes settling on a large, burly Klingon who lay i spread-eagled n the center of the bridge, his head at an unnatural angle to the rest of his body.
"Well, he obviously can't help us now. We've got our work cut out for us with this mess--let's see if we can get thier computer systems back online." Mark touched a charred panel at the nearest work station and scowled. It would take time, time the survivors might not have.
Turek waded through the mangled circuitry at what had once been a tactical console, silently working with Angela at his side. The ship system designs the Klingons used were highly inefficient, he decided, making his job more complicated than necessary. He was attempting a rough uplink to the main computer via the console, and he was having difficulty deciphering the illogical pattern of wiring and circuitry before him. To make matters worse, of the away team, only he and Commander O'Conner had engineering experience. Mark was attempting the same procedure at a nearby navigational console--it was a matter of pride, an indication of Vulcan superiority, that Turek obtain access first.
Carefully, he ripped away some exposed wiring in an access panel, probing for intact circuits with his gloved hand. Another advantage to getting the computer working would be to upgrade from emergency power. If the hull breaches were sealed, he would be able to remove his helmet and gloves. Turek thought of this as incentive to incease the pace of his work.
After what seemed to him an endless period of time but in reality was no more than twenty minutes, Mark's work was interrupted by the chief security/tactical officer's voice.
"Commander."
"Yes?" he answered tersely, not wanting to lose his train of thought. He almost had it....
"The ship's computer is online."
Mark could have sworn he heard a trace of smugness in Turek's voice, but the Vulcan remained impassive. As if on cue, the lights on the bridge came on and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the dimness he had been working in. Mirana's head snapped up eagerly and she moved from his side to where Turek stood. Within moments, they had increased power to life support, sealed off the decks with the hull breach, and located the positions of the surviving crew members. Mark quickly downloaded what was left of the computer's memory to his tricorder, hoping they might obtain a hint of what had transpired on the vessel.
"Excellent, Mr. Turek. " he commented as he completed his download. "Let's rescue the survivors and get back to Prometheus."
Mirana gratefully followed Mark's lead as she opened the faceplate of her helmet, relieved she would have a reprieve from breathing in the stale air of her e-suit. She removed her gloves and flexed her fingers---it would be easier to assess her patients without them. Grabbing her medkit, she headed in the direction of a turbolift she had seen earlier---she was done climbing through access tunnels for a while.
**********
Mirana sat in the back of the shuttle so that she would be closer to her patients. Out of a crew of thirty five, only four Klingons had survived, and she used the term 'survival' loosely. The sole female was in shock, her body in multi-system failure, and even factoring in her species' redundant organ systems, her situation was grave. She had been found in engineering with one of the males, who had severe plasma burns to his face and chest, and was not responding to stimuli. These were her two most critical patients, and if they did not undergo immediate emergency surgery, they would die. Her other two patients were both unconscious, with several fractures and mild organ damage. With a little luck, she would be able to stabilize them.
Mark glanced behind him at Mirana where she kneeled between her charges, injecting one in the neck with a hypodermic needle.
"Doctor, are your patients ready?"
"As ready as they'll ever be."
"Very well." he opened a channel to the ship and spoke into it. "Prometheus, this is Maverick. We're carrying wounded---prepare to beam them and Dr. Keset directly to sickbay."
Mark grimaced slightly as he recognized the voice as belonging to Lieutenant Commander Sevril. He glanced at Mirana again and she nodded.
"Energize."
With the injured Klingons off the shuttlecraft, Mark was able to turn his attention to his tricorder and the data stored within. Those that had perished aboard the Bird of Prey seemed to have died from initial injuries obtained when the ship was attacked, or fromthe hull breach and loss of life support. There was no evidence that the vessel had been boarded and he hoped the computer logs would shed further light on what had occurred. Glancing down at the tricorder on the seat next to him, Mark knew he had a long night ahead of him.
II
Colin stood outside Sickbay, staring at its closed doors with a look of determination on his face. He willed himself to step forward, to enter, and see those Prometheus had rescued. He was eager for a report on their status, hoping one may have regained consciousness and could speak. However, he was reluctant to see Dr. Keset---he had not completely recovered from the initial shock of thier first meeting.
"Captain, are you alright?"
Colin flushed at the sound of his Ops officer's voice, slightly embarressed at being caught loitering outside Sickbay.
"I'm fine, thank you." he answered quickly. "I was just on my way to meet with Commander O'Conner to see if he had made any headway on extracting information from the ship's computer."
The Captain was several decks away from where he professed he was heading, but Naeve thought it might be wiser not to point this out.
"Can I do anything to assist?"
"Actually, yes. I would appreciate it if you could confer with Dr. Keset about her patients and report to me if they regain consciousness and are able to be interrogated."
"Of course, sir."Naeve readily agreed.
"Very well. Carry on." With that, Colin strode past her without a backward glance.
Naeve shrugged, paused for the doors to part, and stepped into Sickbay. A technician pushed past her, mumbling a barely intelligible apology, never pausing on his way to the surgical suite. A nurse quickly side stepped her, flashing her a look of pure irritation, as she reached around the Ops officer to deposit a stack of test tubes on a countertop.
"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked pointedly.
"I would like to speak to Dr. Keset when she has a moment." Naeve stepped back to allow another tech with several tricorders to hurry by her.
"She's a little busy right now." the nurse answered, disapproval in her tone.
"I realize that. I'll just wait here until she can speak to me." Naeve smiled, but the determination in her green eyes was quite clear. The nurse frowned at her silently, then sighed in defeat.\
"She's in surgery right now but I'll let her know you're here." The other woman offered, albeit grudgingly, and headed in the direction the technician had just taken.
Naeve did her best to sta out of the way and remain in one spot as personnel continued to hurry back and forth across the length of sickbay, clutching a variety of medical equipment whose names she couldn't begin to identify.
At last, the doors to the surgical suite swung outward and Mirana Keset appeared. Fatigue was evident in her face and bearing as she removed her surgical mask and tucked her shoulder length auburn hair behind her ears. Her eyes settled briefly on Naeve, and she begain to walk towards her, pausing to give a passing nurse instructions.
"How can I help you, Lieutenant Commander?" she asked wearily.
"I was hoping you might have some information on the Klingons' status. How are they holding up?"
"Not well." Mirana answered bluntly. "Two of them died almost as soon as I got them to surgery. Their wounds were too extensive. If we'd only gotten to them sooner....." her voice trailed off and she sighed.
"And the other two?" Naeve asked gently.
"Alive. For the moment. One is in a coma and the other has just come out of surgery. I had to remove one of his livers--it's a good thing he had two."she said wryly.
"When will he be able to talk?" Naeve was immediately alert.
"Not for a while. He needs to heal---and for that, he needs sleep." Mirana assumed an immediate air of protectiveness over her charge.
"Of course." Naeve quickly agreed. "Will you notify me when he wakes up?"
"I'll let you know when he can have visitors, yes." Mirana said firmly.
"Doctor, I dont need to tell you how important it is that we findout what happened out here."
"And I dont need to tell you that we won't find out if the Klingon isn't medically stable."
Naeve regarded Mirana silently for a moment before nodding. "Very well, Doctor. Do your best." She knew better than to continue to argue with a doctor. They always won.
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