It took less than ten minutes for the USS Gilroy senior staff to assemble in the briefing room. A hum of anticipation filled the air as officers from various departments traded small talk. The Captain, Jericho Sands, was the last to enter.
He looked across the room, all eyes turning toward him, and offered a warm smile to each person before walking past his empty chair. He placed a hand on the large viewport looking out into space; the Romulan outpost was visible below, a brilliant mixture of greens and browns.
“Initial thoughts?” he asked, keeping his back to the room.
Betty, his Chief Medical Officer, was the first to speak. “I’ve only had a few moments to look over the latest from the surface. Their reports are dense. I swear Romulan doctors use fifteen words just to describe a simple fever.” She smiled as she spoke, and Sands was sure she was fighting the urge to put her feet up on the table.
“But anyway,” she continued, “I think the original plan holds. We’ll beam up a few of their most ill for treatment and medical exploration—see if we can’t identify what’s got them so sick. Then, we’ll fly down half of that sweet medical goodness we’ve got packed into Cargo Bay 1, saving the other half for the Klingons.”
“How long do you think you’ll need to assess and treat, Dr. Walker?” asked the First Officer. Betty – or Dr. Walker – let out a heavy sigh.
“Betty, for the hundredth time,” she moaned, waving her hand to stop the First Officer from interrupting. “And I have no idea. If it’s a simple illness, we can get it all done in a day or two. If it’s something worse, we might end up providing support for years.” She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? A nice, long, peaceful medical mission to occupy us for half a decade?”
“Stop teasing the Commander,” chided Captain Sands, though he too let out a laugh. He couldn’t imagine anything his First Officer would rather do less than a long, peaceful, and uneventful medical mission. “I’m sure we’ll find something to explode.”
“I don’t need explosions,” replied Commander Tehm Mall, a hint of annoyance bubbling in his voice. He cleared his throat and returned to an at-attention posture, hands clasped on the table. “If the mission needs half a decade, then I’ll give it half a decade.”
The Captain turned, considering for a moment if he should put a congenial hand on his First Officer’s shoulder, then decided against it and took his seat at the head of the table.
“Next?” asked Commander Mall, stealing the word just seconds before the Captain could say it.
“I’ve confirmed the outpost is indeed armed with a series of defensive cannons. They are powered and currently tracking the skies,” reported the Tactical Officer.
“And they have been used lately,” added E’Spor, the Vulcan Chief Engineer. “I had one of my juniors run an analysis once Tactical sent over the scanning data. There is residual energized plasma in the atmosphere around at least two of the cannons. They can’t hurt orbiting ships, but they can do some nasty work to our shuttles.” He tapped the console, sending commands to the computer which, a moment later, displayed a layout of the outpost on the large screen.
“A test or practice run?” asked the First Officer.
“Unknown,” replied E’Spor immediately. He made a pointed gesture of turning his full attention to Sands. “Captain, the Romulans reported significant power issues as part of their initial plea for aid, and yet they are diverting significant power to these weapons. That is, even for Romulans, illogical.”
“We’ll be sure to ask Administrator Valia about it, won’t we?” suggested Sands, offering a nod to his Chief Engineer. “Detailed and appreciated, E’Spor.”
“They are likely just paranoid,” commented Mall, looking directly at E’Spor. “No giant conspiracy.”
“I don’t think E’Spor was suggesting a conspiracy, Tehm,” replied the Captain quickly. “Just being professionally thorough.”
Sands could see his First Officer was about to speak, hand already half-raised in a gesture, when the entire briefing room shook. Alarms began to sound just as a second tremor rocked the ship.
“Bridge to Briefing Room! Captain to the Bridge!” blared the comm system.
