Chapter Text
* * *
"Captain, the flight deck confirms departure of both shuttles," Vara's voice cut through the tense silence, her words echoing from the operations console.
Leo's heterochromatic eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as he commanded into the open channel, "Repulse to shuttles. Report in."
Gee's voice crackled back over the channel, a gentle reminder of their situation, "Apologies, sir. They've already slipped beyond our short-range communication reach."
Chief Sheesta's steady voice joined the chorus, bringing Leo back to their immediate predicament. "My team is on standby for core failover, Captain."
"Understood," Leo responded, his baritone voice carrying an undertone of grim resolve. He directed Sheesta to coordinate with Mister O’Brien.
The channel buzzed with technical chatter as they outlined their risky plan: It necessitated a total shutdown of the primary computer core, leaving Repulse without autonomic functions for an unnerving thirty seconds while they manually rerouted the primary command processor to the secondary core. Both teams were suited up in EVA gear for this maneuver - even artificial gravity would be lost when environmental systems went offline.
As they recited their plan one final time - each step weighed heavy with potential consequences - Leo felt a knot tighten in his stomach. With a deep breath that echoed eerily in his helmet's comm system, he activated the shipwide circuit.
"Attention all crew, this is the bridge speaking. We are on the verge of transitioning to a total shutdown of the ship's systems in order to switch over to our backup core," Leo's voice was steady and calm, his baritone echoing through every corner of the ship. "This will cause a temporary loss of all environmental controls, including gravity. Secure yourselves as swiftly and safely as possible. Medical teams are on standby for immediate deployment in case of injuries. Stay strong, we'll get through this together. Bridge out."
The moment he cut off the connection, Leo hit the control that clamped his seat arms tightly against his thighs, anchoring him in place amidst the impending chaos. Simultaneously across the bridge, each station mirrored his actions.
His eyes shifted towards Kesshek at tactical. "Lieutenant Kesshek, is our emergency lighting ready?"
"Standing by, Captain," Kesshek confirmed with an assuring nod.
Leo returned it with one of his own before drawing in a lungful of air and issuing his next command: "Chief Sheesta, initiate failover process."
"Aye sir." The countdown began from ten and when it hit zero, Repulse's ambient hum disappeared into silence so profound it was almost deafening. Only the crimson glow from emergency lights pierced through the sudden darkness.
Instantly Leo felt himself jerked around haphazardly by unseen forces while nausea clawed at his insides. He resisted the urge to retch and instinctive impulse to tense up his limbs; instead recalling past zero-gravity training sessions where he'd learnt to let go and adapt to such disorienting sensations by going limp. Shouts of surprise echoed around him as other members on the bridge grappled with their own disorientation under these unfamiliar conditions.
From her station Thalix’s voice rang out clear despite her struggle: "We’re tumbling and adrift!"
Without acknowledging the question, Leo maintained his eyes sealed shut, enduring the tumultuous ordeal. A thought meandered through his mind, questioning why thirty seconds could stretch out to feel like an eternity. His heart pounded in sync with his silent hopes that every soul on board had found safety in time. He lost himself in the disarray of time once he surpassed counting to thirty, but he was certain it had been well over a minute and a half before the bridge's primary lights flickered back into existence, accompanied by the familiar low hum of the starship's machinery purring beneath him. The nauseating spinning ceased abruptly as environmental systems reasserted their control, infusing the air with a refreshing purity that replaced its previous stagnancy.
Sheesta's voice echoed through the bridge, her tone teeming with relief and triumph. "It worked! All systems are back online, Captain!"
"Confirmed," O'Brien chimed in. "But we need your authorization to proceed further. Sir, can you make it to the computer control station?"
A groan slipped from Leo as he felt his joints protest under his conscious control again. "Uh.. give me a moment to find my footing." He relinquished his grip on the armrests as they unfolded back into an upright position. As he staggered from his seat, a wave of lightheadedness washed over him like a punch to his gut. "Hell of a ride," he mumbled under his breath.
T'Rel swiftly moved towards him; her Vulcan strength offering much-needed stability against his unsteady stance. "Are you all right, sir?"
Leo shot her a dazed look through half-lidded eyes while trying to regain balance. "Your eyes are quite captivating," he slurred as if intoxicated by her presence alone; his vision constricting around her figure until everything else blurred into insignificance. The pulsating rhythm of his own blood echoed ominously in his ears, a relentless reminder of the peril he experienced. Leo clenched his eyes shut, willing the adrenaline-fueled thundering to subside. Gradually, the frantic drumming in his chest eased into its customary cadence, and he steeled himself against the powerful urge to succumb to exhaustion's sleep.
"Captain?" T'Rel repeated, her tone laced with concern.
With a slow, deliberate nod, Leo acknowledged the concern in the room. "I’m okay... Just a bit overwhelmed." His eyes swept across the bridge, holding each gaze that reflected back a mixture of worry and anticipation. He offered them a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. A hand lifted in a casual wave as he tried to diffuse the tension thickening in the air. "I’m fine. And I’m now noticing that I’m the only human on the bridge," he quipped lightly, alluding to the diverse array of hardy species comprising his bridge crew.
The impact of Leo's words was palpable, the tension in the room dissipating like a sigh of relief. The officers around him visibly relaxed, their shoulders dropping as if a heavy burden had been lifted. Their eyes, moments ago filled with uncertainty and fear, now gleamed with renewed resolve.
Leo’s stocky frame leaned subtly towards T'Rel, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "A little help?"
Slowly but surely, they made their way across the bridge, with T'Rel offering him unwavering support as they navigated towards Lieutenant Commander S’ran’s seated position at the science station.
A dryness clung to Leo's mouth, his throat parched as he issued his command. "Computer," he croaked out, the tension in his voice palpable even in the sterile confines of the ship's control room, "request security procedure for access to command functions."
The computer hummed in response, its synthetically feminine contralto tones filling the room with an eerie calm. "Please identify for retina scan."
"Commander Rainerio Eulalio Verde," he declared, a hint of defiance lacing his baritone voice. He stared unflinchingly at the scanner as it bathed his right eye in a scarlet glow.
"Security scan approved," the computer intoned after a moment that felt like an eternity. The words hung heavily in the air, their implications sinking into Leo's mind. "This procedure requires the command codes of the current commanding officer."
An icy dread gripped him as he asked the question he already knew the answer to. "Who is the current commanding officer?"
"Captain Theodore Keller." The name echoed through Leo's thoughts like a chilling wind, bringing with it the anxiety over memories, recent and distant.
"Under the jurisdiction of Judge Advocate General's Corps, Captain Keller is hereby arrested under multiple charges, and relieved of his command," Leo declared, his voice echoing throughout the bridge.
The computer produced acknowledging tones in response, its logic adhering to Starfleet protocols. "Executive Officer T'Rel is named as acting commander."
T'Rel's stoic features remained unflinching, her Vulcan discipline holding firm against the tide of uncertainty that had washed over the crew. Her calm voice broke through the tense silence that had followed Leo's explanation. "Computer, this is Commander T’Rel speaking. As the senior line officer present, I relinquish command to Commander Leo Verde."
The computer confirmed T'Rel's credentials with its typical precision. A few confirming tones later, it stated, "Executive officer testimony accepted. Verde command codes activated. Ship command transferred." Subsequently, a sharp boatswain's whistle pierced the air, followed by the computer's declaration: "Attention all hands, NCC-2455, USS Repulse, is now under the command of Commander Rainerio Eulalio Verde."
The newly recognized commanding officer of Repulse stood tall despite his below-average height. His eyes sparkled with determination as he tugged at the hem of his maroon jacket in an almost ritualistic manner. A smirk played on Leo’s full beard-framed lips as he addressed the computer in his baritone voice:
"Please, call me Leo."
* * *
NCC-3109 (USS Reykjavík)
Trujillo had resumed her seat on the bridge, displacing Davula, as Reykjavík struggled in vain to catch up to the faster Repulse, currently racing towards certain destruction by the oncoming Gorn fleet.
The zone of communication and sensor interference behind them continued to spread as Harken’s drones and comms-relays expanded further into Gorn territory.
“Sir, sensor readings from Repulse indicate a growing imbalance in their warp nacelles,” Garrett observed from the Science station. “If it continues, we could be looking at an emergency shutdown of their warp propulsion or a feedback wave that could result in a core breach.”
“This is due to them overtaxing their engines?” Trujillo asked.
Garrett appeared unconvinced. “It’s possible, sir, but this issue doesn’t appear to originate with the nacelles themselves. This looks more like an injector issue in the core.”
Trujillo absorbed this while running mathematical calculations in her head. “If they drop out of warp soon, is there a chance of reaching them before the Gorn squadron?”
Garrett’s voice rose an octave. “Now reading a plasma stream in their wake. They appear to be venting drive plasma from the emergency outflow ports, sir!”
“Trying to save their nacelles,” Trujillo whispered to herself.
Davula turned from her station to address the commodore’s unanswered query. “If Repulse drops out of warp in the next five minutes, we’d reach her fourteen minutes before the Gorn do, sir.”
The turbolift doors parted to admit Lt. Commander Kura-Ka to the bridge. The Zaranite’s face was obscured behind a protective mask that fed him a steady stream of his homeworld’s fluorine-rich atmosphere. The Chief Engineer relieved the duty warrant officer at the Engineering station, seating himself and accessing the current scans of Repulse.
“Put Repulse up on screen, computer enhancement at maximum magnification.”
Just as Shukla complied with Trujillo’s order and an image of Repulse appeared on the viewer, the ship veered suddenly, dropping out of warp as the vessel tumbled wildly.
“She’s dropped to sub-light and–” Shukla began.
“Reading massive torsional stresses on her spaceframe, Commodore,” Kura-Ka cut him off mid-sentence, an almost unheard of breach of decorum on Trujillo’s disciplined bridge.
Two smaller craft flashed free from Repulse’s aft shuttlebay as the bridge crew watched in fascinated horror as the larger ship continued to tumble out of control as she decelerated.
“Two shuttles away,” Shukla began again, only to see both craft accelerate to warp on divergent courses. “Both craft are Type Five shuttles and have just jumped to warp, though one appears to have suffered some engine damage in her launch maneuver.”
“Still reading hundreds of life-signs aboard Repulse, sir,” Garrett added.
“Hail the shuttles,” Trujillo ordered.
Shukla acknowledged the order, but after a pregnant pause, he glanced back at her. “Sorry, sir. Repulse’s rapid and… unorthodox deceleration maneuver appears to have created some localized subspace interference. I’m having difficulty punching a signal through to them. We’ll have to wait until they’ve put some distance between themselves and the ship.”
“Can we hail Repulse?” she asked.
“No sir, same problem, only more of it. We’ll have to wait until we get closer or some of the subspace chop settles down.”
Trujillo fought the urge to stand and pace around the bridge. She was anxious, both about the condition of the ship and crew on the viewer, as well as the approaching Gorn. She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes briefly, practicing slow, regulated breathing.
“I’ve managed to raise one of the shuttles, sir,” Shukla announced.
Trujillo opened her eyes, toggling the channel open on her armrest. “Reykjavík to shuttlecraft, we are on approach at high warp. Say your situation.”
A relieved voice replied over the speakers, "Reykjavik, this is Shuttle One. Lieutenant, jay-gee, Guilla Vazen, here." A pause, then, "We're roughly seven hours from the border at present speed. Say your position, please?"
Trujillo relayed their coordinates, telling them, “We’re heading to evacuate Repulse’s remaining crew. Remain on course and we’ll swing by and pick you up on our way back.”
"Fuck that, whoever you are," said a new voice. "I'm altering our course to rendezvous. Hold your speed and have them open the doors, we'll be there in less than five minutes. We have vital information and are chock full of non-essentials and one prisoner."
Guilla sighed audibly. "Apologies, Reykjavik. That was our pilot-in-command, Ensign Timm."
Trujillo frowned. “Please inform Ensign Timm that she’s speaking to Reykjavík-actual, Commodore Trujillo, and that we will not drop out of warp until we reach Repulse. If you want to return to the ship’s location, we can bring you into our shutttlebay as we’re beaming the survivors over, but we only have a fourteen minute window between when we reach Repulse and when the Gorn get to her.”
Timm's voice spoke up once more, though far less cavalier than before. "Begging Actual's pardon, Commodore, sir. I only need thirty seconds to land this bird on your deck. If you slow to sublight on approach to Repulse, that's all I need. We're already in your wake, now."
“Acknowledged. As soon as we assume station-keeping alongside Repulse, we’ll open the doors and give you the green light to land.”
She turned to Davula. “Commander, tell the deck gang to clear enough space for those two shuttles and to make ready for bringing them aboard. We’ll try to grab the other one on our way out.” As that order was being acknowledged, Trujillo looked to Shukla. “Ops, any luck raising Repulse?”
“Not as yet, sir. Still a lot of interference in that area. I’m still trying.”
“Commodore,” Kura-Ka said through the vocoder in his mask, “Repulse has lost all primary and secondary power. It appears someone’s shut the entire ship down and is trying to reboot the computer cores.”
“Commodore,” Garrett called out, “we’re approaching the area of disturbed subspace. Recommend we decelerate from warp as we approach, it’s going to be rough.”
“How much time is that going to cost us?” Trujillo asked pointedly.
Garrett ran the calculations quickly. “Four minutes, eighteen seconds, sir.”
“Damn,” Trujillo murmured. “Okay, do it. We can’t rescue them and escape the Gorn if we damage ourselves in the process.”
Lieutenant JG Naifeh glanced up from his position at the helm. “Prepare to begin deceleration maneuver in five minutes… mark.”
“Weaps, raise our shields for deceleration. Hopefully that’ll spare us some of the chop or at least a fewer number of fried isolinear processors.”
“Aye, sir,” the towering Helvia replied soberly from the Tactical station.
Trujillo opened the intra-ship. “This is the commodore. All hands, we will begin emergency transport evacuation of all Repulse personnel in just a few minutes. Stand ready to move their personnel out of the transporter rooms as quickly as possible to make way for the next groups. Escort their crew to all of our crew lounges and recreation areas, using whatever other larger compartments are needed. Sickbay, stand ready to receive casualties from their sudden deceleration.”
“Repulse’s systems are starting to come back online, sir. They appear to have regained helm control and have stopped the ship’s roll and yaw,” Garrett advised.
Kura-Ka noted, “Reading significant damage to their nacelle support pylons and structural weakening in several areas of their secondary hull.”
“Still not able to drive a signal through to them, sir,” Shukla noted with a touch of frustration. “I’ve also been unable to raise the second shuttle. We’re broadcasting, but they’re not receiving. They may have damaged their transceiver array along with their nacelle when they launched.”
“I’d really like to tell them what we’re about to do before we just start beaming people off their decks, but time is of the essence.”
“Approaching deceleration boundary, sir,” Naifeh said.
“All hands, brace for subspace shear,” Trujillo called over the intra-ship.
“Decelerating from warp in five, four, three, two… now.”
The deck-plates rattled and the officers and crew on the bridge shuddered in their seats as the shielded Reykjavík shouldered its way through the roiling eddies of subspace upset by their fellow ship’s tumultuous passing mere minutes earlier.
“We’re safely out of warp, sir.”
“Full impulse, Mister Naifeh. All stop five kilometers from Repulse.”
A few tense moments later, Reykjavík slowed to a stop beside the battered Excelsior-class.
“Shuttle is on final approach to our landing threshold,” Ops called.
“Lower shields for transport and shuttle recovery. Initiate transporter evacuation of that ship, and get me a direct comms laser-link with Repulse,” Trujillo commanded.
* * *