=/\= USS Charon, Main Engineering =/\=
"Is the Comm active yet?! I'd like to know if I'm helping Romulans to overtake my new ship." Neyes called out, perched in an awkward position as he tried to grab at a disabled and severed power conduit.
A flurry of sparks erupted around Landon as he hopped down from a computer console in Engineering. With a flinch, and an irritated yelp, he waved his arms around as he would to shoo off a pesky bug. Especially if it was a bug... and especially if it was a bug with venom. Landon hated bug-bites, and not just because Trill had a alarming intolerance to insect bites... Anyway.
"What was that?! Someone!" He hollered out to the skeleton crew that had somehow managed to arrive in Engineering, flicking a residual spark off his shoulder. "We're moving. WHY are we moving?!" The ship had also started to shudder feverishly, bringing apart more of the already damaged beams and bulkheads.
A dirty and ashen young officer tapped furiously at one of the control consoles circling the room. She seemed hell-bent on getting all the important details about the ship's status out as common knowledge, despite the crew's crippled computer access. Neyes hadn't seen her move an inch from that console, and she gave him up to date information on all the repairs every few minutes. This was up to and including the massive damage they had detected on deck eight, where it look someone had actually set the entire shuttlebay on fire. Normally it would have been less annoying to simply tell her to keep a diary of the ship's moods and report back to him later, but in this case... it was actually helpful.
She tucked a loose strand of hair away from her face and called out a response, "Sensors are picking up a anomaly with a quantum signature! It looks like we were pulled into the Romulan's wormhole."
Neyes' eyes opened a little wider than usual. "Oh... well that's pretty shitty. Were we tractored in?"
After a moment of silence, "I can't tell, sir. It looks like we may have simply been a victim of spacial gradients. There are so many Romulan ships..."
With a held up hand, and a quick turn Landon shut his eyes and tried to figure out what they needed most. Romulans or not, it wasn't going to get him or anyone else anywhere by getting caught up with the armada of crazy green-blooded genocidal aliens hanging in space. He couldn't get the ship back to 100% within the next month, let alone the next few minutes. Which system would they need if they were inside a spacial singularity...
A few of the crew simply looked at him, waiting for some kind of direction. A couple even stopped their repairs and sat waiting, looking at him. The reality of the situation was that he had only been their Chief for a ridiculously short period of time, and the six or so people in Engineering were at least twice the size of his Flight Control team on the Intrepid. So here he was again, stuck in the middle of a desperate situation, with an uncertain crew and a crippled ship.
Suddenly he pointed to two men working on the computer, "We have primary systems control yes?" He watched as they nodded, "OK, then get started on repairing the EPS flows through sections 34 and 35a. We'll need the power flow to be as high as we can get it should the captain try to start the shields. Bypass if you have to, but I want all primary systems on at least an 80% feed in the next 15 minutes."
He spun around and pointed at his informant, "Get the warp core stabilized. Subspace turbulence inside a wormhole is ridiculous," he unintentionally started thinking of numbers, "and I'd rather not experience the thrills of self-sublimation today."
Suddenly the warp core powered down. The last of the matter-antimatter pulses fired into the reaction chamber and the whole thing went dark.
=/\= END LOG =/\=
Ens. Landon Neyes