Captains Log:
It was been three days since the USS Grus was stuck by a quantum shockwave whilst mid transit through the interdimensional rift. Damage to the ship was minimal; however the impact on the crew has proved varied.
When the wave struck the ship; there was a short period in time were crewmembers either experience life through the eyes of their counterparts from the universe we planned to enter, or were faced with nothing but an empty void. Some have been able to process what happened better than others; and there are officers and staff deeply traumatised by what they experienced, even if only briefly.
During our aborted transit, we encountered an escape pod launched from the other version of this ship. On board was one individual we were able to beam off; before a collision with the pod, destroyed it. Ensign Chad Harris is now currently recovering in Sick Bay.
With the apparent complete collapse of the reality we were attempting to reach; any chances of finding Lieutenant Jason Devron, seem lost.
He will be greatly missed by the crew, especially those that served alongside him aboard the USS Jaxartes.
<End Log>
Lieutenant-Commander Chance Vought slumped back in the chair, in his Ready Room. He was half dreading, going back on the Bridge; not because he didn’t feel he belonged there, but because of the change in atmosphere.
Lieutenant Devron was like a whirlwind, Commander Salan had taken steps to harness that raw energy and focus it; and then that task had passed to Chance himself. It was still ‘a work in progress’ as the Vulcan had put it. The fact that he’d chosen to ignore orders and step through the dimensional portal was proof that Jason was still not beyond rash decision making.
However despite his faults, or may be in part, because of them; he had brought, what had been for a time, his crew, through countless scraps.
He’d been the glue that held them together, even if they hadn’t fully understood that, until his lose, slowly sank in.
Vought would have to pick a new First Officer; Doctor de Havilland also held the rank of Lieutenant, but had never taken the ‘Bridge Officers Test’ and if he could help it, probably never would. He was happy in his role as CMO, and Vought didn’t see any reason in forcing any additional burden on the man.
That just least him with Lieutenant’s Stuart and Lyambo; but how happy would either of them be at stepping into a dead man’s shoes; especially one they regarded as a close friend.
Already shorthanded after the events of Frontier Day, which had seen the loss or redeployment of crewmembers already scheduled to join the ship after her refit, and having lost members in the Shackleton Expanse and now the Lieutenant; the crew complement stood at 69, not the 95 it should be. Of cause if any of those currently in Sick Bay, didn’t recover or others suffered relapses, connected with their resent experience; that figure could drop even further.
Vought was beginning to wonder what the smallest number of personnel this ship could effectively operate with, and whether he’d actually want to find out.
**********
Things in Sick Bay had calmed down considerably from how they’d been since the ships encounter with the wave; and Doctor de Havilland had been able to discharge another patient that morning.
He was just checking in on Lieutenant Debaere; a man deeply traumatised by the apparent loss of both his hands in the alternate universe, under circumstances that hadn’t been clear. He had not slept in what was now 56 hours and had stubbornly refused any form of sedative and wouldn’t eat or drink anything, unless someone else had tasted it first; just in case anyone had slipped something inside it.
His fear was; that if he fell asleep, he’d wake up with no hands, just like his nightmare experience of the other realm. He wouldn’t even put his hands under the bed sheet; as that would put them out of sight.
“How are you today, Bert.” De Havilland asked, as he checked the readout on the monitor which was tracking and recording the patient’s vital signs. It was a task he could have performed remotely, but in these circumstances he wanted a closer, visual look; he also had a plan in mind.
Debaere stared back with empty, bloodshot eyes; answering the question with slow slurred speech. “You’re not making me sleep doc, I’m not losing my hands.”
The man was too preoccupied with watching the doctors every move; that he failed to notice the EMH shimmer into existence at the side of the bed. He felt the hypo spray touch his neck only seconds after becoming aware of someone else being in the room, but nowhere near quick enough to react.
The Lieutenant was unconscious, before he’d even managed to get started on a torrid of insults that had entered his mind.
“Will there be anything else, Doctor?” The EMH asked with a calm detachment.
“No, I think that’s if for now.” De Havilland replied. “Thank you for the assistance.”
“Always happy to help.” The EHM bowed slightly. “Not that I think my programming allows for anything else.”
The hologram clapped its hands together twice; operating its ‘Self Shutdown’ protocol, and vanished as swiftly as it had arrived.
Doctor de Havilland left Debaere to sleep knowing the Lieutenant would be in a foul mood when he woke in several hours time and headed for the adjacent side room, in which Ensign Harris was being kept for monitoring.
When they’d first beamed the young New Zealander out of the escape pod his quantum signature had been all over the place. At first, they’d been worried that this was the wrong Ensign Harris; but after an hour or so, his readings had started to stable out and now corresponded with those of this reality.
To confuse matters even more, pod 7, which matched the one he’d been rescued from, was now missing from the hull of the ship; as if something had decided the two could not exist together in this universe. What remained of the pod, had been gathered up, and now lay across parts of Shuttle Bay 1. A mixed team of engineers and scientists were going over the wreckage piece by piece.
Ensign Cho was sat in a chair and Chad’s bedside, holding his hand; where she’s spent the vast majority of her off duty hours, since his rescue.
“And how is our patient?” De Havilland asked with a half-smile.
“I’m waiting for someone to give me the number of the shuttle that hit me.” Chad replied breathlessly; tried to laugh, but ended up coughing instead. Cho helped him sit up and passed Chad a cup of water; which he attempted to drink, in-between coughs.
“Well I see you’ve not lost your humour, even if you’ve lost half your hair.” The doctor responded.
“I’ve always had it short.” Chad paused. “We’ll you know, the other me, that is.”
Cho looked at it; reaching out hand. “I’ve got nothing to run my fingers through now.”
“Well I’m sure given time, it will all grow back.” De Havilland reassured her. “You’ll also be pleased to know, given your progress in recovery, I should be able to discharge you to your quarters, by tomorrow.”
“Thanks doc, I appreciate that.” Chad smiled.
**********
It hadn’t just been those currently aboard the USS Grus who had felt the brief effects of the quantum shockwave; on Betazed, Albert Torf had witnessed images of himself aboard a shuttle craft, right in the middle of a family meal; though at the time did not realise they were connected to an alternate reality.
On Earth, Chief Petty Officer Sava had experienced a dream that he couldn’t fully understand. He’d even taken a day off from the Starfleet Recruitment Office where he worked. Now however he was back behind his desk.
Most, if not all those who came in off the street; went up to the blonde haired, chisel jawed poster boy Lieutenant. So when a shadow cast itself unannounced across the PADD he was reading at his desk, he was a little surprised.
His eyes moved slowly up to the face of a young looking diminutive woman, in a pale blue shirt that appeared two sizes too big; blonde hair up in a bun. There was something about the woman he recognised, though he couldn’t figure out why.
She gave a wide pleasant smile. “Hi, I’m Tanisha Grey; I’m looked to join up.”
