(( USS Blythe- Corridor 7-13, 10 days prior ))

The initial assesment and hazmat teams were nearly done the primary sweep of the all but crippled starship and only had a few sections of a few decks left to inspect. As the senior officer present, the hazmat team leader was finishing his scans and catalogues of the damage and repairs needed in this particular section, his comm badge chirped.

NPC Hazmat: *Taps* Red Niner, go ahead.

NPC Wetdrawers:  *She had been checking out a feint energy signature emitting from near the rear of the saucer section. Sounding extremely concerned, and almost frightened.* Can you report to the Aux Core sir. We’ve found something that needs your urgent attention.

Hazmat: On my way.

((Auxilary Core Control room))

As the hazmat leader approached he saw the 2 Engineers near frozen at the open door to the control room. To his shock, he noticed that Engineers both had their personal type 1 phaser drawn and pointed at an unknown person or object inside the room. When he got a few feet away from the appearingly petrified Engineers he asked them in a hushed tone, “Whats up? Whats going on here Ensign.”

Ens Wetdrawers: *She had been checking out the feint energy signature emitting from near the rear of the saucer section.* Those, are what’s going on sir. *Using her phaser to point at the 4 large objects in the room. They vaguely resembled some form of ancient suspended animation chambers.*

Hazmat: *Looking more closely at the translucent chamber canopies, and instantly realizing what had caused the reaction in the engineers. Each of the chambers contained a Vaadwaur.* Oh, you got to be fucking kidding. *Taps comm badge.* This is Red Niner to station ops, can you dispatch the Chief Intelligence Officer and a security team to the Auxilary Core aboard the USS Blythe, docked at bay 11, immediately please.

TO BE CONTINUED…

(( SB86 Medical Centre, 8 days prior ))

The 3 erstwhile bottom decks were all either lying or sitting on their biobeds, and considering what they had all been through the med staff had made sure that the 3 of them were treated in the same ward together. Aside from them alm some slightly dehydration and the beginning of low grade hypoxia when they were rescued, they were all in good health. Albeit T’sen and Ford had suffered from some moderate constipation from the E-rations(a fate Morris had avoided due to his Spicy Bolian Stew fetish of the preceeding 3 weeks.

All 3 were schedule to be released that day, and were quietly waiting for the docs to come and tell them they were free to go.

T’sen: *She spoke up, off the coffee and out of the blue.* Before we are released and part company, I would like to express my gratitude to you…

*Across the room Fords chin raised slightly and his chest began to slowly smell, anticipating that the knockout gorgeous young Petty Officer was about to thank him for saving all of their lives*

T’sen:…*Looks Dalton who was seated on the edge of his bio bed, staring at the wall to their left* To you Specialist Morris…if you had not figured out how to solve our air recycling problem with your ingenious intention, we all would have died approximately 13 days before we were rescued by the crew of the Al-Birani…*a slight smile briefl flashed across her face as Dalton grinned and nodded to her.*

Ford: ~Oh, she thanks the fresh faced beach bum surfer kid for his improvised air purifier that still let us suffer from hypoxia, but not me…for Kirk sake she is drop dead gorgeous though…what angle can i use to come out looking leet here now…~ *he pondered to himself as he crossed his arms, while lying his head back on the half raised backrest of the biobed.*

Morris: *Glances over his shoulder towards Ford who’s bed was about 3.5 metres away in the centre of the ward, then looks back towards T’sen.* Enh, dont sweat it sister…I actually learned how to jury rig a few different types of Medical instruments into re-breathers over the years. Us adventure surfers, have alot of hacks and shortcuts for things because of the nature of beach life, Hahaha…*glances at Ford again, knowing intuitively as that the Chief was totally infatuated with T’sen, and had been crushing on her hard for atleast the last 2.5 weeks.* But it was really the Chief who saved us all…if he hadn’t sealed those bulkheads right after the hull breach alarms popped off, we’d have been fish food long before my little invention was needed…

Ford: ~That’s a good point…amd thas gives me an idea…~

((SB 86 Ops Centre))

Commander Tyler reported to the Starbase 86 Ops centre and chimed on the Task Force COs office door as he was requested to report to him upon arrival. He assumed that this was likely going to be a meeting to discuss the new Emergency Orders he had recieved on his padd earlier in the week.

“Commander Tyler, reporting as requested, Sir.” He said, after he chimed the door to the office.

Captain Pryce’s thumb paused mid-scroll, his PADD painting a cold blue light across the lines of his palm. He didn’t speak at first—just flicked a glance toward the door, its brushed metal surface still and silent.

“Enter,” he said at last.

The door split open with a muted hiss. Pryce’s eyes, sharp and expectant, tracked the shadow stretching across the threshold, waiting to see who dared interrupt him without warning.

Tyler entered, trying to disguise his anxiety as he did so. “Thank you Sir, I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Pryce nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Commander Tyler,” he said, rising slightly from his seat. “Welcome to Starbase 86. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

He motioned to the chair opposite his desk with an open hand. “Please—have a seat.”

Taking a seat and trying to appear calm, Tyler placed his hands together on his lap. “My apologies sir, my transport arrived a few hours ahead of schedule, and the orders to report to you did not state an exact time. I assume this has something to do with the Emergency Orders assigning me as the Acting CO of the Blythe sir?

“Never apologize for being on time, Commander,” Pryce said, his voice carrying a hint of dry amusement.

He paused, studying Tyler for a moment before continuing.”But yes—that’s precisely why you’re here. That ship carries a legacy, and it needs someone to carry it forward. That someone is you.”

Tyler: I understand sir, I will get a chance to put my recent senior bridge officer training course to good use sir.

Pryce chuckled, like he’d seen this kind of challenge more than once.

“You’re going to need every ounce of that Bridge Officer training,” he said, folding his arms as he leaned back slightly in his chair.

“One hundred twenty crew,” Pryce said, glancing at the manifest. “That’s less than half of what she was designed for. You’ll feel that difference every deck you walk.” He let the numbers hang in the air for a beat.

“Systems will run lean. Shifts will stretch. You’ll be asking a lot of your team, and even more of yourself.”

Tyler had noticed the reduced crew compliment aswell, and was slightly concerned by the low numbers. “Indeed sir. And I did notice the smaller crew, and the short term nature of the orders. They only have an 2 months itinerary for the ship… but, while we’re on that topic, and I am here sir, would it be appropriate to ask if some of the crew here on Sb86 could be temporarily assigned to the Blythe to help augment the crew. I noticed our manifest was a bit light on operations watchstanders and engineers, especially power systems techs. I understand starfleet is spread thin currently, but even as courier ship, 120 crew is barely 15% above what is considered a skeleton crew for a California class vessel.” He decided that continue on would begin to edge near that fine line between candor and insubordination. He had made the request as his conscience had urged him to, and that’s all he was able to do in this scenario.

Pryce’s mouth twitched into something close to a smile.

“Twice what we had during the Dominion War,” he said with a dry voice. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

The weight behind the words hung there for a beat, an echo of lean years and tighter margins.
Then the smile vanished.

His gaze locked onto Tyler, steady and pointed, “You have work to do.”

A nod followed. “Dismissed.”

‘Understood sir.’ He accepted the answer as a ‘no’, and came to attention and departed, heading to take up his post aboard his first command, which was currently docked at bay 11.