—- USS Luna, Engineering —-
 

Lieutenant Commander James Young was having a long day. A day that had gone on for approximately forty-nine hours thus far. To his left Lieutenant Junior Grade Kv’skrkks was pulling out a tray of isolinear chips and to his right Lieutenant Murf was hitting something with a sonic screwdriver in a rhythmic pattern.

“Is it just me of is it loud in here?” Young asked the Chief Engineer feeling finally dead on his feet.

His Assistant Chief Engineering Officer Ensign Vanessa Constable looked up from her copy of Starfleet’s technical manual for the Luna-class and shrugged, “More banging than usual maybe?”

Kv’skrkks leaned back on his tail, the Pahkwa-thanhian officer using his powerful hind legs to pull the tray out, sending iaolinear chips scattering along the floor. Murf stopped her banding to help the Velicoraptor lookalike crew member gather up the fallen chips.

One of the only people who did not have a great deal of work to do to get the USS Luna back up and running was Chief Diplomatic Officer Diya Acharya. Unless they suddenly encountered new life, and intelligent life at that, she had little to nothing to contribute other than as a kind of moral officer, though that fell to the counseling department. If Commander Carrillo called upon her for help dealing with the Klingons, she’d be sure to help, but overall the Commander seemed to have a handle on what she was dong.

Thus Acharya entered main engineering to find Young with his head in his hands, and the place in a kind of organized chaos that was beyond her. She made her way over to the section chief and his assistant and smiled.

“You off?” Acharya asked Young.

“No,” he answered.

“Yes,” Constable answered for him. She explained, “He’s been working for days solid, he needs a rest.”

Acharya had learned that Young had to be dragged from his engineering department at times, particularly when something was not right with the USS Luna. He took responsibility for everything on the ship and how well it worked. While the Luna-class ship was not as technologically flakey as the Rhode Island-class that Young had previously served on he still did not like seeing it not working and with sensors, communications, and weapon systems offline he had to race against time to get them back to ensure Commander Carrillo had everything she needed.

With another push from Constable the Chief Engineering Officer sighed, “Fine, I’ll take a shift off. Get some sleep.”

Murf was now examining the isolinear chips as she put them back in their tray.

“We’ll try to muddle along without you,” Constable said, half teasing giving him a shove towards the nearest turbolift.

—- USS Luna, Tranquility Base —-

The lounge was mostly quiet, save for a few officers off duty but most everyone was either working overtime or sleeping. All small craft had begun search and rescue operations down to the planet’s surface, and even the Captain’s Yatch had been pressed into service. They had been taken somewhere unknown and had lost their captain and now had to figure out what saving her looked like.

He took a seat while Lieutenant Acharya got the drinks. She joined him at a table, quiet and isolated. There were not many in the lounge to overhear their conversation anyway.

“So Doctor T’Rala is back,” Acharya said, not adding the caveat that the doctor was lost currently with Captain Cruz, “How do you feel about that?”

Young gave only a small shrug, “I don’t know. I haven’t really dealt with her leaving months ago. We broke up when she left, she insisted. I don’t know what’ll happen.”

Acharya had been trying to drag Young out of his engine room and into the rest of his life since then. She didn’t know the Romulan doctor, but she knew that Young was not the most in touch with his own feelings. Being a brilliant engineer was not the same as being in touch with your inner feelings.

Acharya nodded, she was empathetic, and while that might not fix starships she did have soft skills to guide her in cases like this.

“And if there was someone else involved?” she asked.

Young studied his drink cup, “I don’t know. I know about how you feel, and I feel the same way but I just haven’t processed everything yet. I feel like I’m still rebooting emotionally from everything.”

“The thing is people aren’t engines, we don’t have the luxury of turning it off and then turning it back on again to see if it’ll solve anything,” she said, “I don’t want to put time constraints on you or anything but we’re going to find the Captain and T’Rala and then you’ll probably need to decide where you stand.”

Young reached across the table, placing his hand on hers. It was soft and warm. He nodded, “I know, and I know I’ve been difficult. I’ll sort this out, soon.”

Acharya smiled, “Okay now finish up your drink and let’s get you to bed.”

—- Planetside —-

Captain Adriana Cruz slowly peered out of the cave then inched out of it. It had been several hours since they’d scattered and hid in the cave and if the USS Luna had followed them, and was trying to find them then they had to be out in the open and not hiding yet the danger presented by the beast had been pinning them down.

She had not boarded the Romulan ship with a tricorder, but had taken a Romulan version from the escape pod. Operation was different, but she managed to get something if she did a scan for power sources. There was one off in the distance, so she tried recalibrating the tricorder to broadcast an energy pulse that would look unnatural on the natural world. She was focused on doing that when she heard motion.

Turning Cruz saw the creature, jaws open wide and she lept to the side. Teeth raked at her leg, cutting through the winter garments that she had taken from the escape pod. Blood covered the snow. She tried running back to the cave but as soon as she put pressure on her injured leg it gave way and she fell. She heard shouting and saw Doctor T’Rala and Sibolev the Romulan Commander coming out of the cave. Sibolev lit a flare and distracted the creature, while T’Rala grabbed Cruz and dragged her back to the safety of the cave. A moment later Sibolev returned.

“That was brave human,” he said, “And stupid.”

“I don’t have my equipment, it’s still on the Seattle,” T’Rala said.

Cruz gritted her teeth in pain as T’Rala pulled back the torn fabric of the winter survival gear and the Starfleet uniform beneath it, “Luna, we’re on the Luna now.”

“Well names aside I don’t have anything,” Doctor T’Rala said examining the wound, “Here Sibolev cut this into strips we’ll have to restrict blood flow to the leg otherwise she’s going to die of blood loss.”

He seemed about to point out that he did not have a knife but then realized that keeping the hidden knife that he always carried a secret was pointless at this point so he produced it and began to work. T’Rala then tied off the leg above the knees preventing Cruz’s blood from passing that.

“Diagnosis doc?” Cruz asked, the pain was making her head spin and she felt unconsciousness coming on.

“If I get a modern med bay I can probably save you. Much more though and you’ll lose the leg,” she said.

“Let’s hope your Commander Carrillo is as reckless as you are,” Sibolev said.