Contact the Crazy Horse

Posted on 03/02/2020 @ 6:58pm by Captain Cian D'Anvers
Edited on on 03/06/2020 @ 7:47pm

Mission: S1E2: The Plomeek Soup Conundrum
Location: Bridge, USS Blackwell
Timeline: Day 5 at 0800

"Sir," McClellan said, the lilt of his accent more pronounced under the stress they were all feeling. "Distress call has been answered. Repair crew is en route but the estimate is about six hours."

"Too long," the Blackwell's captain said. "Captain to Security."

"Security here," Bardok said in a voice that still managed to sound crisp and alert.

How are things going down there," he asked. Privately, the captain wondered if Bardok slept at attention but that was another matter entirely; there was no need to define 'where'. The Brig was on everyone's mind at the moment.

"We're ... managing, Sir," Bardok said. The tone and quality of his words sounded strained as though he were forcing the words through a clenched jaw. The captain could understand that. He'd been doing the same thing for hours now. "Engineering hasn't been able to get containment working as yet but we've got guards in place. So far, everyone is right where they should be."

"Understood. Keep me informed. Bridge out."

The captain listed to one side, held upright by the arm of his chair, the very chair that he had not left in he couldn't remember how long. He sighed again as he accepted the course of action he knew he had to make. "Locate the nearest available Federation vessel," he said and was pleased that his voice rang with authority. His yeoman, bless his freckled heart, shoved a cup of coffee into his hand, and he took a long sip as the McClellan, the on duty Operations officer, fought to find the information. There wasn't a system on the ship that was still working as it should. "Found one, Sir. The USS Crazy Horse. Its at the starbase right now. Luna Class and that means science but they should have a functional brig."

"Good enough. Get me their Captain," he said and then, realizing such conversations shouldn't be broadcast across the Bridge, added, "I'll take it in my Ready Room."

"Aye, Sir, patching it through now."

Charles Burns had been Captain of the Blackwell for more than fifteen years. He knew his job and was, for the most part, good at it. Sometimes exceptional. He'd been in first contact situations. Met species that he never would have imagined back in the colony where he grew up dreaming of a life that had more going for it than slogging through his days.

And yet, with all of that, the Captain of the Crazy Horse was not a species he could ever have imagined. Arctic white skin tone and hair, yet with a subtle nimbus of color undulating through her hair, she fixed him with intelligent blue-green eyes. "I'm Commander Ysayne," she said in an alto that was almost musical in its accent. "How can the Crazy Horse help?"

He smiled at that. As tired as he was, the way that starship captains came to each other's aid was something that made him proud. Always had. "My ship is disabled," he said without preamble, "and I have prisoners on board that are destined for maximum security on Ventra IV. I can't get them there any time soon and I'm hoping you'd be willing to take them. I'm sending you their files now."

There was a brief exchange between the Blackwell's aging computer and the far better one on the Crazy Horse. She scanned the information, her expression turning grave as she did so. "I can see why," she said. "We were going to go on patrol tomorrow anyway. We can move that up a day. Anything we should bring you?"

A million things went through his head. Drag the engineers away from whatever they were doing. Bring enough EVA suits for his crew. A million things. "Maybe your engineer could take a look at what we're facing here? My Chief Engineer is down in Medical. Panel blew up and he took it in the face."

"We will be there soon," Sidonie said. "Crazy Horse out."

The connection closed and Charles sat there for a moment. A moment longer than he should, no question, but he took the time to marshal his thoughts. Plan of action and all of that.

"Burns to Bardok," he said finally.

"Bardok here." Prompt and efficient as always. One hour into a shift or twenty, Bardok wasn't one to show deficiencies.

"We have a relief ship coming to take charge of the prisoners," he said. "Prepare them for transport."

"Aye, Sir," Bardok replied and for the first time in all the years he'd served with the Chief, he heard unabashed relief.

A Post by:

Captain Charles Burns
Commanding Officer
USS Blackwell

and

Commander Sidonie Ysayne
Commanding Officer
USS Blackwell