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Chain of Command part II reaction
Jan. 21st, 2008 05:07 amShe's not on the bridge when it all happens.
She's in her quarters, as are almost all the junior officers; tension on the ship is running frighteningly high, there are Cardassians aboard and untold numbers more looming off their bow, war is a tangible threat that's getting closer and closer to reality and all but the most senior officers are holding on for the near-inevitable ride. and it's a waiting game.
She doesn't know that anything is afoot until first Emily, then Sonya calls her to relay the same message. Something is going on, and it involves the senior staff - there's a shuttle being launched, and Commander Riker is at the helm.
She envies him, just a little, for whatever he's doing. Just a little; she knows he's the best there is, knows she couldn't pull off whatever maneuver he's been sent to attempt with nearly his level of skill. Not yet. She doesn't let her own jealousy get in the way of that reality, but all the same part of her is quietly pledging to pay twice the attention she already does when, if, they get out of this.
And it is an if, all optimism aside.
And nothing explodes.
It's over in an instant that nobody feels; no one on the lower decks is the wiser as the situation abruptly reverses. Minutes seem like hours and there's no change, no change until the vibration in the deckplates alters under their feet. And Sariel's still green, still learning but flying's in her bones, in her blood; she has the innate skill to attune to the ship she flies, and she feels the course change from the floor up.
It's terrifying, for one second in time. She has no idea if they're making a run at the Cardassian ship hanging in plain view, or retreating, or-- but nothing happens. and they keep moving.
Information filters down little by little as they all slowly unwind. There were mines laid; that was Commander Riker's mission, he's been reinstated, war is no longer a possibility, it's over. and above it all: the captain is back.
The captain. Capitalization implied, singular status awarded, fish in the ready room - the very same.
Some of the details are classified, kept for the eyes of higher ranked officers only, and Sariel's no little bit grateful for the lack of description; she knows just enough of what happened to feel a kinship with Picard that has everything to do with being violated. In a way, he's like her.
Things revert to what had been normal quickly and quietly, thanks in large part to Riker. Geordi's engineers all get much-needed time for themselves, the same junior crewman carries fish and fishbowl to deck one, the schedule is readjusted and suddenly it's three shifts instead of four again.
And Sariel isn't proud enough to deny that she sleeps better that first day than she has in a week, or that part of her mental ease is owed to the night watch she'll once again be working when the chronometer ticks round.
She's in her quarters, as are almost all the junior officers; tension on the ship is running frighteningly high, there are Cardassians aboard and untold numbers more looming off their bow, war is a tangible threat that's getting closer and closer to reality and all but the most senior officers are holding on for the near-inevitable ride. and it's a waiting game.
She doesn't know that anything is afoot until first Emily, then Sonya calls her to relay the same message. Something is going on, and it involves the senior staff - there's a shuttle being launched, and Commander Riker is at the helm.
She envies him, just a little, for whatever he's doing. Just a little; she knows he's the best there is, knows she couldn't pull off whatever maneuver he's been sent to attempt with nearly his level of skill. Not yet. She doesn't let her own jealousy get in the way of that reality, but all the same part of her is quietly pledging to pay twice the attention she already does when, if, they get out of this.
And it is an if, all optimism aside.
And nothing explodes.
It's over in an instant that nobody feels; no one on the lower decks is the wiser as the situation abruptly reverses. Minutes seem like hours and there's no change, no change until the vibration in the deckplates alters under their feet. And Sariel's still green, still learning but flying's in her bones, in her blood; she has the innate skill to attune to the ship she flies, and she feels the course change from the floor up.
It's terrifying, for one second in time. She has no idea if they're making a run at the Cardassian ship hanging in plain view, or retreating, or-- but nothing happens. and they keep moving.
Information filters down little by little as they all slowly unwind. There were mines laid; that was Commander Riker's mission, he's been reinstated, war is no longer a possibility, it's over. and above it all: the captain is back.
The captain. Capitalization implied, singular status awarded, fish in the ready room - the very same.
Some of the details are classified, kept for the eyes of higher ranked officers only, and Sariel's no little bit grateful for the lack of description; she knows just enough of what happened to feel a kinship with Picard that has everything to do with being violated. In a way, he's like her.
Things revert to what had been normal quickly and quietly, thanks in large part to Riker. Geordi's engineers all get much-needed time for themselves, the same junior crewman carries fish and fishbowl to deck one, the schedule is readjusted and suddenly it's three shifts instead of four again.
And Sariel isn't proud enough to deny that she sleeps better that first day than she has in a week, or that part of her mental ease is owed to the night watch she'll once again be working when the chronometer ticks round.
