Chapter 4: First Blood is Drawn (part 3)

Chapter 4: First Blood is Drawn (part 3)

The two men walked briskly to the door indicated on the diagram and as they did the door opened about half an inch and then stopped.

"The mechanism is jammed; manual override, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Sir."

Kurgan entered several commands into the door panel and then motioned to Brian who grabbed the left side of the door with both hands while Kurgan grabbed the right.

"One... Two... Three!"

Both mean pulled hard on their respective sides and ever so slowly the door agonizingly parted enough to allow them access to the quarters. Brian pulled his phaser out of its holster and entered first followed by Kurgan. A think gray smoke filled the room, and Brian called out.

"Ambassador K'Vada, this is Commander Archer of the USS Icarus. Are you here, Sir?"

After several seconds, a loud groan could be heard coming from the bedroom of the quarters and Brian ran toward it. When he entered he found a large Klingon with graying hair laying on the floor. Brian knelt down beside him.

"Ambassador K'Vada?" Brian asked the Klingon who was just barely conscious.

The man barely managed to nod his head, and Brian put his phaser away and ran a tricorder over the Klingon then tapped his combadge.

"Archer to Meyer; is Duron still with you, Ensign?"

"I am here, Archer."

"Duron, we found K'Vada but he's badly injured; where is your doctor?"

"Dead," Duron responded

"I don't know if he'll survive a beam out to the Icarus. I will try to get our medical staff up here."

"Understood."

"Meyer what's your status?"

"We're making progress, Sir. Corson says the comm array should be up shortly, and we've restored minimal shields as well."

"Good work Meyer; Archer out."

At that moment, the medical crew on board the second shuttle was nearing the Klingon ship as the Trill CMO leading them spoke:

"You all had outstanding records so I am sure you know the drill; but since it's our first mission, I am going to go over it anyways."

Javyin grinned and then continued.

"We will scan the wounded as we find them, marking any minor injuries and wounds for later and stabilizing the major injuries for transport. As we are on an allied ship, don't be scared to get some tactical guys to help you transfer around the wounded. Any ques.."

"Archer to Doctor Cyl… if you can find your way aboard and to my position, I could use your help. Ambassador K'Vada is badly injured and the ship's doctor is dead."

Doctor Cyl tapped his communicator and replied:

"Working on it, Mister Archer. Our XO's shuttle is still docking. Miss Hunter and I will head your way once we dock. Nurse Ildre and Paramedic Spies will head towards engineering."

"Good luck." Doctor Cyl said as Nurse Ildre and paramedic Spies after disembarking from their shuttle headed down their darkened corridor.

"You too, Sir." Nurse Ildre replied as he she headed off to find the XO's engineering team.

Meanwhile Jayvin turned and began searching for a way to follow Archer's team.

"Here we go, Cassie." He announced as he came upon on the opened panel.

The young paramedic glanced around nervously.

"You okay, Cassie?" He said as he entered the tight crawlspace.

She replied as she followed. "Yes, Sir. Just worried that the Romulans will return."

"They won't with the Icarus here." He replied as he began to climb. "Hopefully, we can be quick enough here to stop the next attack."

"I hope so," she quietly replied as she followed.

Moments later Cyl stopped on the ladder.

"Sir?"

"Looks like it's going to get hot, Cassie. Plasma leak ahead."

As they worked their way around, Head Nurse Precourt glanced around the bridge as the Captain went over her head.

After passing the plasma leak, Jayvin and Cassie could see the open hatch ahead, when Pasqual chimed in.

Looking at K'Vada Brian knew the sooner Cyl got up to them the better. The man was barely conscious and, while Brian couldn't see any physical wounds, he knew that it was likely the ambassador had smacked his head on a bulkhead, or something along those lines. He looked back at Kurgan who shook his head as if to say he didn't think the ambassador was going to make it... and then he had an idea.

"These are VIP quarters right?" he asked Kurgan

"For a Klingon ship, yes."

"Then they must have a replicator. Find it, see if it works, and then try and replicate something that will help us keep him alive. I'll be dammed if I'm going to sit here and watch him die."

"Aye, Sir."

The Half-Klingon, although he might as well be full-blooded from the looks of him, all brow ridges, coarse long dark hair tied into a regulation ponytail and rough skin and facial features highlighted by a short trimmed beard, walked out of the bedroom, leaving Brian alone with K'Vada.

"Stay with me Ambassador..."

He tapped his combadge.

"Archer to Icarus. Captain, I'm with K'Vada but he's in a bad shape. I can't tell exactly why but I'm guessing a blow to the head. I don't know if he'll survive a beam out, Sir, without being stabilized. If you could assist Doctor Cyl in reaching my position… that would be a step in the right direction."

“Acknowledged Mister Archer,” The Captain responded as he engaged his communication switch to contact the chief medical officer.

“Sterling to Doctor Cyl…”

He waited for a response.

He repeated this several times, but still did not receive a response.

The Captain then addressed his security chief again who was mired in a precarious situation on the damaged Klingon vessel.

“Apparently, Doctor Cyl is in a heavily damaged location with too much signal interference. So for the moment we’ll switch to plan B. Hold on for one moment, Lieutenant Commander.”

Sterling quickly called down to the surgeon on duty in Sickbay.

“Doctor Pender, quickly prepare a stasis unit for immediate transport to the WovHaqtaj. Notify me straight away when it’s ready, and be prepared to beam over there as well if we are unable to reach Doctor Cyl soon.”

He then turned back to the tactical officer.

“Lieutenant Callen, hone in on Lieutenant Commander Archer’s signal and prepare the precise coordinates to beam in the stasis unit directly in proximity to it, once Doctor Pender has confirmed its readiness.”

His face turned back towards the viewing screen. As the Icarus began moving in closer to the Klingon vessel, the bridge crew could see more clearly how extensively the ship was damaged. Their team would need to work fast. As they were now closing within transporter range.

“Mister Archer, we’re preparing to send you a stasis unit momentarily. Notify Lieutenant Callen specifically where in the room would be a safe area to beam it to. Also, since I am unable at this point to establish communication with Doctor Cyl, if he doesn’t arrive soon after the stasis unit’s arrival, notify me and I’ll have Doctor Pender beamed over to begin the procedure until Doctor Cyl arrives. As you have indicated, we must have K’vada stabilized before we shuttle him back here. We have a shuttle about to dock near to your current location equipped with a complete triage setup and a team of medical trauma specialists ready to assist in this process. One way or another Mister Archer, we are going to stabilize our Klingon ambassador. Sterling out.”

He then turned to Counselor Pasqual.

“Counselor, keep trying to hail Doctor Cyl. Also, work with our Ops officer to try to get a stable fix on his current location. If necessary, we may need to impose a site-to-site emergency transport.”

Sterling realized the irony of this aspect of their current situation, but in this case, the transport would truly be due to an emergency medical situation.

''Aye, Captain,'' acknowledged the Orion hybrid without turning. His green-hued fingers ran across the ship's main communication station's board as he spoke through one channel after another, like an artist singing and playing his instrument.

''Mister Hanson, we need all the extra power you can spare to boost the short range sensor array. Lieutenant Richards, narrow your scan for Trill biosigns; shouldn't be hard to spot on a ship full of Klingons and a handful of Humans. Transporter room 1; as soon as you get a signal lock, on captain's order, beam Doctor Cyl directly to the location of Chief Archer's combadge signal.''

''Without warning, Sir?'' came back the response of the transporter chief.'' He won't like that...''

''What do you mean? Ray growled with a smirk. ''Why, he does it himself all the time.''

But... orders are orders, he sighed silently before switching from the intraship channel to the ship-to-ship one.

''Icarus toMister Cyl. We have a dying ambassador and only security men with basic first-aid near him. We need areal doctor there before he dies. You know any?''

"Thank you Duchess; not sure what I would do without you repeating information I already have."

''That much is certain. Rest assured the Captain isreceiving your exact grateful words to his orders,Mister Cyl.''

"We will have to run the ris.." Jayvin sighed as the added yet more useless information.

"What orders? You informed me that the Ambassador was dying and then inferred that I wasn't a real doctor, again. Not really an order in there. Now if you wouldn't mind some of us have real work to get to." Cyl replied before tapping his comm again.

The Orion counselor hit his console with his forehead, dumbfounded.

Is he really THAT dense? Or... is he trying that awkwardly to play me as I play him? he laughed out of pure bewilderment within the silent confines of his own mind.

Ray then sent a telling stare to his commanding officer. The doctor's archaic sexist insulting attempts alone, again heard all over the bridge, underlined so nicely his psychoevaluation of the Trill, he didn't have to say anything more.

Back on the Klingon battlecruiser, Brian was relieved to see the arrival of Doctor Cyl and his team. He stood back out of the way while the medical personnel worked on K'Vada silently praying that the old Klingon wasn't beyond saving. As hardened as Archer was, he had fought alongside the Klingons in the Dominion War and had a deep respect for them as warriors. He had no desire to see K'Vada die as the result of a unprovoked ambush by a cowardly foe.

Jayvin then tilled his head as he saw Doctor Pender.

Pender sat next to the old Klingon, clearly looking out of her element as she used a basic medical tricroder to scan. Then once she noticed Cassie and Cyl, she merely said:

"Captain's orders..."

"Mhm..." Cyl replied before tapping his comm.

"Doctor Cyl to Head Nurse Precourt. I am at the ambassador's side; seems Doctor Pender is as well. Have the orderlies put together a trauma kit for her and transport it over."

"Of course, Sir." She said with a smile as she went to work on her console.

"Okay, what is his condition, Doctor?" Cyl replied as he motioned Cassie to look for more wounded in the vicinity.

" Four broken ribs, multiple fractures on the right humerus, radius and ulna, heavy blood loss, facial lacerations, collapsed and punctured lung, grade 2 concussion and multiple skull fractures."

"Sounds painful." Jayvin thought out loud.

If the other didn't know better, it would look as if Jayvin wasn't worried at all and using the wounded ambassador to test the other doctor.

"Recovery chances?"

"Very good for a Klingon." She smiled slightly. "Hard to kill a Klingon."

"Very true. "

He motioned to the medical case that just appeared behind her.

"Get a brace to support his neck," he ordered as he took out a hypospray and used it to sedate the Klingon before pulling out a collapsible stretcher and reading it for use.

After Doctor Pender secured the neck brace, Cyl yelled out to Lieutenant Kurgan and motioned to him to help Jayvin lift the Klingon onto the stretcher.

"Archer, he is cleared to move, but I'm going to keep him under 'till we have time to treat him. I would like to transfer him to the Icarus if we can dock a shuttle on this level."

"I don't think there is an airlock on this level, Doctor. If I remember my Vor'cha class specs correctly, our best option is either back the way we came or up to deck 1. Any chance we can beam him and the stretcher back to one of the shuttles?"

"Hmm... Don't you ever wish that these ships had stairs?"

He paused a moment before continuing.

"Well if we have to use the transporter, we might as well just go all the way to sickbay."

"It's your call Doctor. If you think he's okay to transport, then we had better do it. If not, then we'd better come up with something else."

"Doctor Cyl to Precourt. Please transport Doctor Pender back to sickbay with the Ambassador. Surgical unit 1."

"Of course, Doctor," she sweetly replied as she relayed the request from her station in sickbay to the bridge and, again with a telling smile, Pasqual overseeing all communications in and out of the ship gave the request to the main transporter room.

As the two disappeared in a shimmer of light, Cyl turned to Archer.

"Cassie and I will give this deck a quick once over, if you would like to continue to the bridge."

"Thank you, Doctor." Brian said as he turned to Kurgan to add: "Mister Kurgan, stay with them."

"Aye, Sir."

When he saw the doctor starting to object, he held up a hand.

"Mister Kurgan speaks fluent Klingon just in case you run into any crew members who don't speak standard...and he's a deterrent...just in case."

Doctor Cyl shrugged.

"Couldn't hurt to have someone to do the heavy lifting. I would love to talk more, Archer, but legs to splint and wounds to sew." He replied with a smile before motioning Kurgan to follow him out the door.

After meeting with Cassie, they began to search the upperdecks for more injured people. And a short while later, they were hopping from one wounded to another; almost with each step they took.

"Unknown Klingon, multiple fractures, served leg, crushed lung and brain bleed. Recover chances 20%."

As Doctor Cyl examined an unconscious Klingon, he spoke outloud, seemingly to no one, as Cassie took care of another wounded klingon. He then added

"Precourt, please transport him to an open bed."

"Of course, Doctor," Precourt replied as she sat at the modified bridge station.

Cyl smiled to himself as he saw the Klingon go. He was quite happy that his emergency medical system he had designed during his wait around Trill was working well… even with the middle man at the comm station back on the Icarus.

"Status, Precourt?"

"Seven hundred and twenty-one Klingons accounted for, one hundred and ten with negligible wounds, thirty-three in heavily wounded but stable condition, four in critical condition and four hundred and twenty-seven dead."

"Affirmative. The Ambassador's stats?"

"Doctor Prender is still in surgery,"

"Very good, please contact me as soon as the surgery is over."

"Of course , Doctor."

Cyl then turned to Cassie.

"Ready, Miss Hunter?"

"Mhm" She replied as put the final touches on the wound of the downed warrior in front of her before quickly following Doctor Cyl down the next fuming hallway.

* * *

Archer nodded at the doctor and left the ambassador's quarters. As he had inferred to the ship's second officer Brian knew the Vor'cha Class quite well. He and Cassie had spent nearly a month aboard one of the formidable Klingon cruisers during their last mission for Section 31. He made his way forward on the deck he was on until he came to the turbolift.

Brian could see immediately that the turbolift was not working, but he also knew there was a maintenance access behind the panel on the port bulkhead. He muscled the panel off, twisted the locking device and opened the access. From there he climbed rung by rung up three decks to where the panel opened onto the bridge. Archer opened the access, but it wouldn't budge. So, he leaned back and kicked with both feet sending the access cover flying into some fallen debris. As he climbed out of the maintenance tube all eyes, and at least one disruptor were on him.

"Archer," Duron said holstering his disruptor pistol, "Nice you to make it."

"K'Vada will be fine, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't, but thank you for letting me know."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing, your engineers tell me the communication system is nearly functional. Once it is we will contact the high command."

"I've got it Sir!" Engineer Corson called from one of the Klingon panels.

"Corson, open me a channel to the Captain."

"Aye Sir, it's open."
This is Commander Archer, please respond

As the shuttle teams aboard the Klingon Vor’cha class attack cruiser WovHaqtaj worked furiously to stabilize both the severely damaged ship and the injured crew, the Captain of the Icarus turned to his counselor who was also serving as the communications officer as well.

“Counselor Pasqual; send out a distress call to all available ships in the vicinity. Let’s see if we can evoke some assistance here in our current situation. Afterward, send an encoded message to Starbase 39 apprising Starfleet of the recent events that transpired. Perhaps they can coordinate a more organized method of assisting our Klingon allies here. Just inform them of what we know thus far and convey that more details will be forthcoming as we receive them.”

''Aye, Sir; transmitting Mayday on all frequencies,'' answered the green-skinned man.

As the automated call for help was activated, Ray turned towards the central seat.

''Captain; I suggest sending our encoded transmission to Starbase 39 on a single, tight, omnidirectional frequency corresponding to our current distress call. Codes can be broken... but unless our... friends... as improbable as it sounds fly exactly between us and the starbase, and even then, also bother to look through a standard mayday transmission, there is no way they will intercept it, let alone decode it; assuming they could even do so in the first place.''

With a nod towards the screen and the image of the crippled battleship, he finished:

''But... better safe than sorry.''

Sterling nodded affirmatively as he listed to the Counselor’s suggestion.

“Yes, unfortunately we don’t really know who could still be lurking out there somewhere… potentially attempting to intercept any transmissions… now do we?” the Captain asked rather rhetorically. “Given our recent experiences and considering what occurred even before we began this mission…”

He pondered the ramifications of more adversarial interference, and then, with a slight hand gesture, Sterling acknowledged to the Counselor:

“Prudent advice Mister Pasqual. Proceed with your recommendation.”

Captain Sterling knew that they were obligated to assist their Klingon allies and would comply without hesitation. But he also realized that this was another tactic by their adversaries to again stall the actual mission awaiting them. The questions haunting Sterling at the moment: Did D’Tan and the Blackwing receive their encoded warning and was this information timely and effective enough to thwart the probable attacks on their vessel? If so, in what manner would they face their aggressors? He needed answers to these questions; knowing that the outcome of their situation would directly impact the course of the crucial summit awaiting them on Khii… in a variety of capacities.

''Aye, Sir,'' answered the Orion hybrid, returning hands and eyes to his communication board.

The procedure was as simple as flashing a short lasercomm burst like they did centuries ago between orbiting satellites and ground stations; only now it would go through subspace. And the copying of the mayday frequency would further hide it to all except the exact target destination, where they alone would receive the encoded message to decipher.

And with our luck, there will be a Romulan posing as a Vulcan sitting at their comm station with full knowledge of all Starfleet codes that even Starfleet never suspected, mused Ray bitterly.

Then he shook his head to dissipate the paranoia starting to grip him. This was Starfleet; a covert operative like Drake was a rare, almost unheard of exception; a fluke of rare circumstances that had been luckily found and exploited by the few dimwits who would fail to see the mutual benefits of Peace between the Federation and the Empire.

Last time it had happened, he recalled, it was on the eve of the Khitomer Accords between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. But then, they had found the USS Enterprise of Captain Kirk to thwart their scheme...

Lieutenant Commander Ray Quinn Pasqual then grinned.

Today, they would find the USS Icarus of Captain Sterling.

His comm board then beeped and he tapped the channel open.

"IKS WovHaqtaj to Icarus. This is Commander Archer, please respond."

Hearing the communication signal now coming directly from the WovHaqtaj itself, Sterling immediately activated his communication switch from the center seat.

“Acknowledged Lieutenant Commander Archer, Captain Sterling here. Excellent work from your team restoring the communications systems.”

The Captain then thought for a moment before continuing.

“Lieutenant Commander from a functional standpoint, what is the overall status of the Klingon ship at this moment?”

"She's pretty beat up, Sir, but I'm not sure about the progress of Commander Hartzer's team either. The ship's second officer intends to contact the Klingon High Command and inform them of the situation as well Captain. Doctor Cyl and his people are moving throughout the ship to stabilize and treat as many of the crew as they can. The ship's own doctor died in the fighting."

Listening to the security chief’s initial report, Sterling thought about how unfortunate for this brave crew to lose their doctor among others; especially under these circumstances.

“Mister Archer, when you have an opportunity to meet up with Commander Hartzer and her team, work with them to provide me with a preliminary report about the overall condition of the Klingon vessel. Also, let me know if the Klingon Commander aboard the WovHaqtaj receives a message back from the Klingon High Command and whether they will be receiving assistance from them sometime soon. We’ve already sent out a distress call and an encoded message to Starbase 39, so theoretically aid could be on the way from several sources. However, we need to at least have them stabilized and not in effect vulnerable out here before we are able to proceed with our mission.”

Then before he closed communications, Sterling added:

“Also, have Commander Hartzer check in with me when you meet up with her. I haven’t heard anything from her since her arrival on the Klingon ship.”

"Aye Sir, Archer out."

Brian turned and made a slashing motion to Corson who closed the active channel, and then Brian turned to Duron.

"She's yours to send whatever messages you see fit."

Duron only nodded and Brian tapped his own personal communicator.

Commander Hartzer and her engineering team had hit the ground, or in this case, the Klingon ship, running. Mitchell and herself quickly, but tactfully, began to organize repair teams and assist the Klingon crew. They were somewhat reluctant to accept the help, most of all… the chief engineer B’akkara. But when she pointed out that the sooner they worked together, the sooner they could pay back the Romulan pikers in spades, they agreed. Nobody ever lost interest in revenge.

Halfway through, though, they hit a snag in regards to repairing the shields and weapons systems.

Their first attempted bypass blew half the replicator relays of the ship, and earned her a deathly scowl from B’akkara. The systems were a mess already, and they would have to repair them by hand, a painful and time consuming task. Between fixing the shields, engines, and weapons and trying to diplomatically deal with a bunch of impatient and none too happy Klingons, she lost track of time. Mitchell and Rainer went to work on the engines while she, Stevel, and B’akkara and her crew worked on weapons and shields. Thankfully there were a lot of people to work on the problem.

She was halfway inside a panel when her badge beeped.

"Archer to Commander Hartzer; if you can hear me, Commander, the Captain is requesting a status update."

She jumped a bit, startled out of her concentration by the call.

“Thanks, Mistuh Archer, I’ll give ‘im a ring. Lost track of time dere. Hartzer out,” she added by way of explanation.

Extricating herself from the wiring she was currently mired in, she wiped her sweaty forehead with her sleeve and tapped her badge. Blonde locks stuck to her face, her sleeves were rolled up, and her hands were as dirty as any engineer’s. They sported a few red welts and two blisters from where electricity had zapped her. The engine room was hot and smelled funny even to her (and she had been in some disreputable places before) and the low lighting was a pain. She probably didn’t smell that good either, to be honest, but there was no time for vanity or squeamishness. On Vineya Prime she had seen worse.

The badge beeped, then fizzled. She frowned.

“Oxmyx’s teeth…”

The disheveled blonde moved around the engine room for a moment, tapping experimentally, before she finally got a signal.

“Dis is Commanduh Hartzer t’ Cap’n Sterling. Sorry Boss, didn’t mean t’ leave ya hangin’, kinda lost track of time dere. I’m down in da engine room; us, an’ our honorable allies down here, t’ink we can get dis tough ole bird goin’ again. It ain’t gonna be pretty an’ it aint gonna be fast, but she can fly... and fight,” she reported. “Impulse is almost done, we got two disruptors online, an’ shields at thirty five percent; and I t’ink we can improve on those.”

Her voice was a bit crackly due to the connection but perfectly understandable.

Sterling finally heard the communication signal come in from his First Officer. This was certainly a good sign and most definitely a relief on many levels. Listening between the static interference, he replied:

“Number One… I’m glad to hear that you are okay. Archer and his team have communications functional from the bridge and throughout several parts of the ship. K”vada has been stabilized, and we have a distress signal being transmitted. So how much time do you estimate that you and you team will need to finish what you are working on and do you have any immediate recommendations or requirements?”

“Dat’s good news, suh. We can be done in… she paused, thirty minutes but we can haul it an’ make dat fifteen,” she said with a glance at Mitchell and B’akkara for confirmation.

B’akkara hesitated but nodded and turned to one of her subordinates. When he opened his mouth to object, she silenced him with a glare that promised violence if he didn’t go now.

“Don’t need nothin’ immediate… The Klingons know their ship inside an’ out an’ dey got the right tools for us t’ use, and we got da rest.”

She made a hurrying motion to Mitchell; he got the message and nodded, turning back to his work.

“Why, suh, if ya don’t mind me askin’? Somethin’ else come up?”

With the way things were going, she wouldn’t be surprised if the Borg decided to choose this time to reappear. It would be just their luck.

She wouldn’t say she thought she was in over her head, but the responsibility was getting to her. She liked it, craved it, but she was beginning to worry that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t ready for it.

But these were thoughts for another day and now was not the time. She shook herself.

Confidence. If nothing else, fake it.

“Indeed Commander. We have that damn Romulan ship that attacked the WovHaqtaj as we arrived here potentially on its way now to try to accomplish the same level of damage or worse to D’Tan and the Blackwing crew. We’ve sent them an encrypted warning, but we have no idea if they received it. So were literally sitting here split between two priorities, Number One… and time is definitely working against us.”

Hell’s bloody bells. When she found these Romulans she was going to shove her foot so far up their ass they would taste shoe leather.

“Gotcha, suh. We’ll get dis done asap an’ hurry back,” she said.

“We’ll transport additional crew members over to help you and your team tie-up some additional loose ends, Number One. Then after you sort through these new sets of hands, you’ll want to meet up with Archer and round up the other teams so that you are able to coordinate and streamline all of your immediate tasks. Determine strengths, skills and the experience levels of all of the team members, regardless of department or rank and then sort them accordingly.”

Sterling gathered his thoughts for a moment; trying to put into words what he was striving to convey to his First Officer. Then he proceeded.

”As you realize, due to the nature of our circumstances here, we’re going for efficiency and timeliness without being hasty and careless… even though that seems like a bit of a contradiction. But I have confidence, Commander, that you’ll be able to accomplish this masterfully.”

“Boss, if ya’d be so kind as t’ send over some more Ops personnel wit’ ‘em, I’d be much obliged. ‘Specially Mistuh Phelix,” she added, already thinking who could use more help on this ship and where. “I’ll contact Mistuh Archer after da help arrives, see what else needs doin’ here.”

“Commander?” hazarded Mitchell.

She looked at him.

He fidgeted, then asked:

“If we could get some more transducer relays…”

“An’ Mistuh Mitchell would like some more transducer relays if ya can spare ‘em,” she added. “Doncha worry, suh, me n’ Mistuh Archer will have dis licked soon. Careful wit’ da transport, dere’s some residual radiation hangin’ around an’ various bit n’ pieces ain’t doing what they oughta over here. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem, though, we got most of it,” she added.
At least I hope so.

Sterling listened carefully as Commander Hartzer rattled off a list of an additional item and essential personnel.

He held up his pointing finger as he responded.

“Acknowledged Number One… hold on for one moment.” Not that she could see his manual gesture… it was more of an unconscious reflex.

Captain Sterling then turned to Counselor Pasqual manning the communications station and relayed the request.

“Counselor, could you please round up additional Ops personnel, including Mister Phelix and have them transport over to the Engineering section immediately. Just be sure they survey the area for radiation and other hazardous obstacles first. In addition, contact our Engineering department and have them round up some transducer relays and send them over as well.”

''Aye, Sir,'' simply answered the Orion as he kept his eyes on his board and called out the requested available personnel from the crew roster scrolling on a small monitor.

He kept his concentration on the coordination of all the numerous messages coming to and from the distressed ship as well as inside the Icarus. Without proper managing of all the comm traffic, the entire rescue operation could quickly turn into a blundering, chaotic mess that could exact a payment in blood; just as surely as any lack of it. The small incident with the medical team had already shown it plainly enough.

There was also this most inefficient, annoying and potentially hazardous habit of several officers to close channels, signing out while they were still engaged in a life and death situation; the greeness of the Icarus crew showed under stress through such simple mismanagement. But Ray simply reopened channels each one closed and channeled the flux of transmissions as they came.

Doctor Cyl had had no clue what a compliment he had been paying to Pasqual when he had given to him what the Trill had obviously thought was a derogatory sexist insult by calling him ''Miss Uhura;'' the name of the legendary comm officer of the most famous USS Enterprise of James T. Kirk himself.

A sexist Trill... of all people, not a sign of mental stability to be sure.

But so far, the Doctor was apparently doing his job. Ray put aside his still mounting worries about him to concentrate on the more pressing problem of keeping all those self-isolating officers in constant contact with one another and the ship, even despite themselves.

Lives depended on it.

Captain Sterling then brought his attention back to his First Officer.

“Commander Hartzer, your requests are in process now. Let me know immediately if there is anything else that you require and also your updated status once you and Archer meet up. He is still on the bridge. But be forewarned, as you can imagine it may be a bit of rough passage working your way up there. However, this will provide you with a look at other areas of the ship between the Bridge and Engineering.”

Frazetti nodded.

“Aye, suh, will do. Harzer out.”

It was both uplifting and worrying, his confidence, and Frazetti was determined not to let him down. She wished now that she had gone over the personnel files more carefully so she would know who could do what exactly. But that was why she sent for Phelix to come help. A gregarious and social creature, she could rely on him to help her out if she needed to, because he seemed to know everyone. She couldn’t afford to let ignorance and pride ruin this. While she could be proud and stubborn, she liked to think she wasn’t stupid.

She turned to B’akkara.

“Alright, here’s what’s happenin’. We’re almost done wit’ weps, shields, and engines, an’ when we get dem up and goin’, you’ll be able to give da pikers da what for if dey decide to return. Just in case t’ings go south an’ da Romulans act like, well, Romulans,” she said, and got a chuckle for her efforts. “We sent for reinforcements from Starbase 39, an’ dey oughta be here sometime soon. Mitchell, we gotta step it up, Boss needs us back asap.”

Mitchell blinked, but nodded.

“Uh, yes ma’am. I’ll take Stevel and the engines.”

She nodded and turned.

“If it’s darb wit’ you,” Frazetti said to B’akkara, “I’ll take da shields, an’ you can see about givin’ dis bird some talons.”

She was careful not to order them around; this was not her starship to do so, and diplomacy was important, and not her strong suit.

B’akkara nodded.

“A warrior’s thoughts,” she said. “It is unlikely we will need the reinforcements, however.”

“Well, ya may need someone t’ help clean up alla da debris,” Frazetti replied with a grin.

B'akkara snorted and laughed, then the both of them bent to their task with renewed vigor and a faint, but underlying, sense of urgency.

It wasn’t long before the extra hands arrived, Phelix among them, carrying transducer relays. She looked them over, and divvied them up between her team, Mitchell, and the Klingons. Phelix she kept with herself. He made only one suggestion to her which she took as a good sign, that of assigning Ensign Tanno to the weapons and not the engines. She almost did, but Tanno, an extremely skittish boy who looked far too young to be here, seemed to be terrified of the Klingons. So she swapped him with Stevel.

The unflappable Vulcan nodded with equinity as the Exec of the Icarus sent the entire crew, now bolstered, to work again.

Oughta let Mistuh Archer know the up an’ up, she thought.

“Hartzer t’ Archer. We’re getting’ weapons, engines an’ shields online here in just a few I t’ink, an’ we got some reinforcements if ya want any,” she added, just in case he needed help of the engineering variety.

She looked around and was impressed. At the rate they were going, they could be done in even less time than she thought. The ship wouldn’t be back to full operational status but it would be serviceable and have the teeth the Klingons wanted.

I t’ink we can pull dis off. Aces.