Part of USS Issedon: Whisky Tango Foxtrot and Bravo Fleet: Blood Dilithium

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

~late oct 2400
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Down in the labs, Drs Clark and Maccafferty were making headway. Dr. Clark, a young (for her race) El Aurian scientist, made the call to the bridge. 

Captain Taylor, sir?? I have news. Ben was at the helm, but he replied back quickly. “The Captain is off duty at the moment, but I can head down there now.” He stood up, and turned to the third in command, the Chief of Staff. “LCdr Bat’leh, I’ll need you to step in.” The Klingon officer nodded, and moved over. In a minute, Ben was in the labs. So, I think I have an IDEA. I’ll need a science team, a medic probably, and maybe a security guard. I am going to try to DISSOLVE the crystals. We’re going to use Dr. T’shir to cause a tantrum, of sorts, and hope it explodes on its own. What we’re going to do is take some cuttings from each flora species and save one each of the fauna, and then regenerate those.

Ben stood, open mouthed, for a minute. “That seems like it would take a long time…” He watched as Dr. Clark’s face fell and then he tried again. “I don’t know much about chemistry, other than what we’re taught at the Academy. Language and words have always been more of my forte. But…wouldn’t an anti-matter approach be…I don’t know…less time consuming? Not that your idea isn’t great! It really is! It’s unique and forward-thinking. But we have a wormhole when we have it, and we don’t have *time* to mess around with regenerations.” He watched as Dr. Clark seemed to consider. I guess you’re right. I’ll call back up to you when the solution is ready. I think we’ll need a lot of it. He smiled. “Thanks, Dr. Clark, that’ll be great. Please keep me posted.” He headed back to the Bridge, but decided to stop in and check on the telepaths and empaths that were there. He walked in to…absolute chaos. Roger was on a ladder, placing a machine of some kind on the ceiling, with an engineer at his side, presumably assisting. Various medical staff ran about, and Dr. Maccafferty had somehow beaten him up here. Damn transporters versus walking! He cleared his throat, and then, from somewhere near the back of the room, heard the call. Commander on deck! Attention!!

He shook his head. Roger looked at him sheepishly but shrugged. “Go back to your work, everyone. Roger, what the hell are you doing?” The man clambereddown the ladder-surprisingly fast, given his age and general state of being-though he was slim, he wasn’t “fit” to the extent that Jamie was, and didn’t work out much. Setting up the biofilter. This, and stasis? We should have the crew back up to normal soon. You can send the research team back up to the planet, though-we’re fine to take more bodies if needed. I put us in all-hands. 

Ben nodded. Jamie had once said that Roger never needed much prodding to get things done. “Alright. If you need me, or anyone, just radio.” He sighed, but made his leave-the sickbay made him nervous-he wasn’t sure if it was the possibility of mortality, or the noise, or the machines, but it made him uncomfortable. Just before he left, he turned to the young Dr. Maccafferty. “Aren’t you astrometrics?” She nodded, but whispered, her face turning red. Aye, but I’ve cross-trained in general sciences so I thought I’d lend a hand. I can look at blood and lab work. He nodded. It made sense. “Very well. Carry on.” He made his way out of the room, and headed back to his helm. He slid carefully into the seat after Ben had let him sit. He excused the other man for the afternoon, and settled in, waiting to see what fuckery the afternoon and evening would hold. He was tired, but he knew that it would be his time to rest, soon.