FIC: A Moment In Time, Chapter 2
Eh, I'll post this up too. More coming slowly, like everything else of mine. :P
Title: A Moment In Time, Chapter 2
Characters: Jon Osterman, Kazuya Mishima, USS Legacy crew
Warnings: Obvious spoilers for just about everything. Also, it's a multi-crossover. WTF! This is basically a sideline of a story I'm writing...which is the story of the USS Legacy, and her crew - captained by a resurrected Kazuya Mishima (shoosh). Most of the beginning of this story is explanation of what/how/why, so if you've never read anything else of mine...bear with me.
Disclaimer: Everything except the OC crew of the USS Legacy belongs to someone else.
Rating: M (mature) at the moment - you never know when language or nautiness will happen.
Summary: While the away team isn't on board, it would seem the USS Legacy has become a haunted ship...
"Captain on the bridge."
It was 0800 hours on the dot as Captain Mishima entered his Bridge. Sleepy-eyed officers stood at attention, used to the early starts each day but still clearly wishing for something just a little more comfortable - a hot coffee, a sleep-in, a hearty breakfast...
"At ease. Lieutenant, what's our ETA?" Mishima took his seat at the centre of the Bridge.
"One hour, three minutes sir." This time, Qo'Rath deliberately avoided any snide thoughts. Don't want to make a patahk of myself today...
"Excellent. Well then everyone, that leaves us about an hour to get ready. With any luck we will be venturing down to the surface of this new planet, provided it's habitable enough. Murphy, have you got an away team chosen?"
She nodded idly. "Yes sir. I'd like to take Commander T'Mor and Commander Jetrel with me too if I may. I have a feelin' we will need the extra muscle."
Torek snorted. "I'm hired brawn now, am I?" A dimple formed in his left cheek as he glanced back at Murphy.
"Why yes you are. You're stronger than most of my away team...you're the brawn." Her expression remained flat.
"I'll be your commanding officer too down there...so watch it." His smirk grew as he turned back around to face the viewscreen.
Only occasional idle conversation broke the atmosphere over the next half hour. Chat about lunch breaks, what they may find on the surface of the planet, holodeck time, dominated the bridge. Torek resisted the urge to curl up on the seat instead of sitting in it properly...getting a case of the fidgets during immense boredom was hardly becoming of a Starfleet officer.
With a sigh he shifted in his seat however, slouching to one side with the palm of one hand propping his head up. Out of the corner of his eye he observed the Captain, who seemed to be spending an awful lot of time focusing on different areas of the roof. As Mishima's eyebrows seemed to knit further and further together, T'Mor finally cleared his throat. In his usual soft, silky smooth tone, he asked, "What do you see, sir?"
Kazuya sighed, sitting back in his chair with a flop. "I'm not sure."
"Same thing as yesterday?" Tania piped up, shooting a momentary glare across the bridge at Tim.
"I think so." Rising to his feet, the Captain took a few steps forward into the open space in the middle of the bridge. "It's difficult to describe, it's not something perceptible to humanoids. Perhaps...the best likeness I can draw...I can see blue steam wafting about the bridge, but I haven't a clue what it is. It's not something I've encountered before."
Scowling, Smith's fingers flew over the console before him. "I'm not picking anything up, sir."
"Of course you aren't." Kazuya's glance switched abruptly around the room, forcing him to turn to face the back of the bridge in one swift motion. His scowl deepened. "Lieutenant...take us out of Warp."
Furry brows raised, the Klingon helmsman nodded. "...aye, sir." Within moments of his tapping buttons, the starfield ground to a halt, each burning fleck of white remaining as it was.
"Strange..." Mishima lifted a hand and swatted at thin air. Or, so it would seem; left in the wake of the movement was a trail of blue glitter-like flecks of light, slowly twinkling out of existence a few seconds later. He repeated the motion, with the same effect; a trail of sparkles that quickly faded back into oblivion.
Tim's experimentation with the same caught both commanding officer's attention; it did not yield the same result. Kazuya's expression softened. "That won't get you anywhere, Smith. It's not something you can swat out of thin air..."
Muttering and mumbling, Smith stared down at his station. It certainly looked like the captain was swatting it out of thin air...
"Lieutenant, resume course. Murphy, T'Mor; get the away team organised. Smith, you and I are going to have a little fun while they're down on the surface..." Mishima sat back down in his chair, eyes cautiously glancing about the bridge, as if watching this mysterious 'steam' rendered invisible not just to everyone else's eyes, but the ship's sensors as well. After a moment the ship pulled forward, and with a burst of sound, directional force and brilliant light, they were back on their way at warp speed.
The First Officer and Chief of Security proceeded through the door at the rear of the bridge, Murphy quickly being replaced by a lower-ranking yellow-collar. It wasn't long now until they arrived at the planet...finally, a mission for the first time in a month.
Smith took a moment to yawn and stretch, seemingly taking great pleasure in popping and cracking every joint he could as loudly as possible. The slender brunette that replaced Murphy's stocky form pulled a face and grunted in disgust; it made Qo'Rath bare his sharp, ragged teeth in a grin that remained somewhat menacing. He laughed softly over his shoulder at the pair. "Flimsy little bones and joints. I should show you what a real joint crack sounds like..."
"No, no, we're fine..." The brunette wrinked her nose.
The Klingon tossed his head from side to side anyway, once in each direction; each motion resulted in a deep, meaty graunch, almost like bones snapping rather than simply shifting against each other.
"Oh, gross! Men are disgusting..." She held her head in one hand, dismayed.
"Feh! Whatever you say. Anyway..." Qo'Rath swiveled back around in his chair. "We are here."
Mishima shifted in his seat, moving to lean over one armrest. "Take us out of Warp...half impulse."
Once more the stars ceased to fly by; one settled in place much larger than the rest, its deep red glow illuminating the bridge through the viewscreen. Before it was a sizable planet, axis tilted on a wicked angle in relation to its star; oceans surrounded much of the surface, broken only by the occasional storm system or patch of green. There were no satellites orbiting the planet, either natural or mechanical.
Under impulse power the Legacy drew closer to the planet, finally locking into orbit. The away team had since been assembled; standing on the transporter pad in Transporter Room 1 was Murphy with her two Romulans, both armed heavily with cartons, bags, supplies and an assortment of equipment - neither man looked remarkably happy about being loaded down, despite being more than strong enough. Two more security personnel were on the team, both big, burly human men armed with the usual phasers; three blue-collared officers stood toward the back of the transporter pad, laden with research equipment and excited grins.
Mishima stood before them, hands on hips. A young, fresh-faced man - barely that - stood ready to receive orders behind a console to his right. "Remember, the gravity on the planet is somewhat lighter than that of the Legacy, and that of Earth. I imagine you two will actually appreciate the extra weight of your equipment." His dark eyes fell upon the two Romulans.
"I'm an Engineer, not a packhorse." Jetrel scowled. "This better be worth it."
"Stop whinging...look at it as a spot of exercise." T'Mor grinned. "If luck is with us, there should be a few more fresh veggies around the place in a few hours."
A faint smirk crossed Mishima's face. "Ensign...get this lot out of here. Energise..."
***
Crawling about in Jeffreys Tubes was hardly Kirzyk's idea of a good morning activity. Tricorder dragging on the floor below him, half-suspended by a strap over his shoulder, he grudgingly made his way to the next panel that needed his attention.
With a heavy sigh he turned over and sat down by an exposed panel. Glowing chips illuminated his unusual features; across the top of his cheeks and over his nose sat a thick row of large, pale freckles, leading to a pair of particularly long and extensively pierced ears. Being rather slight, he was also distinctly androgynous. Noteworthy was his figure - not quite male, but not quite female. Broad shoulders, matched by broad hips and a small waist, lithe musculature disguised by the Starfleet uniform he wore.
"Campbell...are you ready out there?" His voice echoed back out through the Jeffreys Tube. Like the rest of him, it was difficult to tell whether it was male or female; it was blatantly somewhere in between.
"Yes sir, ready to proceed on your mark." A distant male voice boomed back.
Kirzyk took a moment to rearrange a few of the chips inside the panel, replacing one with another he'd carried in. Sliding away once done, he flipped his tricorder open and gave the order to proceed: "Mark!"
The sound of the Legacy's Warp Core winding up filled Engineering; pulse after booming pulse echoed through the Jeffreys Tube, the walls vibrating from being in such close proximity to the core itself. One by one the chips inside the panel lit up - Kirzyk's bright eyes flitted from the panel to the tricorder, intently watching progress.
After a moment he leaned forward and yelled down the tube. "All good to stop now, we have success!" A matter of seconds later the noise cut out, leaving just a gentle thrum in place of the near-deafening pulses; Kirzyk replaced the face of the panel and proceeded to crawl back out towards Engineering.
Once out Kirzyk tossed the tricorder onto a table, stretched his arms over his head enthusiastically enough to nearly go blue in the face, and let out an enormous sigh. "Well...that's that recalibration done for the next few months I hope. We've got a perfect result...temps should stay optimum at maximum Warp."
"Nice. What's next on today's agenda?" A towering, dark-skinned human - most definitely Campbell - picked up the tricorder, glancing over the results himself. "Did Jetrel leave a list?"
"Nope." Kirzyk brushed his knees off, glancing around Engineering. "I guess we can just run a few more tests while we're idle in orbit...you know how anal Jetrel gets if we play too much with his precious Warp Core."
"Of course. I guess we can get going with...uh...." Campbell trailed off, suddenly gawking at the ceiling.
"What..." Kirzyk and half of Engineering were doing the same within a second...and for good reason. A cloud of blue was encircling the top of the Warp Core, glittering here and there in what would seemed almost like a haze of pure energy. Anomalies...Warp Core...not a good combination.
Kirzyk tapped his combadge. "Engineering to the Bridge...we've got a situation down here. Can you please perform a full sensor sweep of Engineering?" His voice wavered, azure eyes simply unable to tear away from the spectacle above.
"Proceeding. I'm reading an enormous amount of energy down there, but it's difficult to tell what it is. It looks like it might be-- it's gone. Vanished..." Tim's voice trailed off.
"Kirzyk, what did you see?" Kazuya's voice echoed about Engineering from the bridge.
"Uh...I really don't know, Captain. Some sort of mist...it just disappeared. It doesn't seem to have caused any damage, but you never know..." Kirzyk, keeping his eyes on the empty space the mist had disappeared from, began pacing around the Core. "Any idea of what it was?"
A pause from the Bridge. "Actually...I'm starting to get a fair idea. It should be harmless...at least for a while. Let me know if you see anything down there again. Mishima out."
Tim exhaled heavily as he ran his fingers over a series of buttons on his console. "I wish I could catch it. It never hangs around long enough for me to get a reliable reading from the sensors..." His voice was strained...Mishima knew Smith, and he knew he grew impatient when he was out of answers.
"I might be able to help you there. Get ready to perform a sensor sweep on the Bridge."
Kazuya held one hand out in front of him, fingers splayed; at first nothing seemed to be happening. The Bridge crew watched intently, expectantly; gradually, an air of tension - almost as if the air itself was thick with static electricity - soaked the room to the point it grew nearly unbearable. Tim was one of the many that were so transfixed on the Captain that he'd completely forgotten to perform his duties; he watched in awe, in near-horror, as the mist returned, encircling the Captain's arm like a thick, slow-moving tornado.
Opaque, glowing blue, the mist began to congeal; it trailed slowly back down Kazuya's arm, forming a tight egg-shaped ball of energy just beyond the reach of his fingers. While Mishima's brows furrowed about the middle in a scowl of concentration, jaws were dropped in anticipation around the rest of the Bridge, hearts racing...
The egg of glowing blue energy continued to compact; slowly, surely, it began to contract into a glassy, bubbling reflection of the Captain's hand. As the mist cleared around the luminescing object, it had taken on the form of a glassy, sapphire-like human hand...or, the bones thereof.
Hesitantly the bony index finger craned upward, reaching for the fleshy, slender fingers in front of it. Closer, closer...
The room hung in heavy silence as the two drew close enough to touch; in the last millimetre, at that very last second, it once again became engulged in a thick cloud of mist. In the blink of an eye, a blinding, brilliant flash of blue exploded across the Bridge, the force of which was enough to knock everyone off their feet and onto their backs.
Spluttering, rubbing his eyes, Qo'Rath scrabbled at his chair with his free hand for balance. Despite his best efforts he was unable to blink away the halo of black imprinted onto his vision from the explosion.
Behind him, the rest of the crew was struggling to their feet. The Captain had found his chair and was sitting on the edge of it, rubbing his eyes with both hands, trying to will away the spots burned into his eyes. "Is anyone hurt?" Quicker than anyone else's, Mishima's vision cleared up enough for him to navigate the Bridge adequately...
Murmurs and words best not repeated were the response from the bridge crew; as vision returned to the room, Tim scraped himself back up onto his feet and squinted down at his console. "Damn...I still have no idea what it was. I..."
"I do." Mishima interrupted. "I've got a damn good idea what it was. Get the away team back," he turned toward the man by the tactical station, "We have company."
Title: A Moment In Time, Chapter 2
Characters: Jon Osterman, Kazuya Mishima, USS Legacy crew
Warnings: Obvious spoilers for just about everything. Also, it's a multi-crossover. WTF! This is basically a sideline of a story I'm writing...which is the story of the USS Legacy, and her crew - captained by a resurrected Kazuya Mishima (shoosh). Most of the beginning of this story is explanation of what/how/why, so if you've never read anything else of mine...bear with me.
Disclaimer: Everything except the OC crew of the USS Legacy belongs to someone else.
Rating: M (mature) at the moment - you never know when language or nautiness will happen.
Summary: While the away team isn't on board, it would seem the USS Legacy has become a haunted ship...
"Captain on the bridge."
It was 0800 hours on the dot as Captain Mishima entered his Bridge. Sleepy-eyed officers stood at attention, used to the early starts each day but still clearly wishing for something just a little more comfortable - a hot coffee, a sleep-in, a hearty breakfast...
"At ease. Lieutenant, what's our ETA?" Mishima took his seat at the centre of the Bridge.
"One hour, three minutes sir." This time, Qo'Rath deliberately avoided any snide thoughts. Don't want to make a patahk of myself today...
"Excellent. Well then everyone, that leaves us about an hour to get ready. With any luck we will be venturing down to the surface of this new planet, provided it's habitable enough. Murphy, have you got an away team chosen?"
She nodded idly. "Yes sir. I'd like to take Commander T'Mor and Commander Jetrel with me too if I may. I have a feelin' we will need the extra muscle."
Torek snorted. "I'm hired brawn now, am I?" A dimple formed in his left cheek as he glanced back at Murphy.
"Why yes you are. You're stronger than most of my away team...you're the brawn." Her expression remained flat.
"I'll be your commanding officer too down there...so watch it." His smirk grew as he turned back around to face the viewscreen.
Only occasional idle conversation broke the atmosphere over the next half hour. Chat about lunch breaks, what they may find on the surface of the planet, holodeck time, dominated the bridge. Torek resisted the urge to curl up on the seat instead of sitting in it properly...getting a case of the fidgets during immense boredom was hardly becoming of a Starfleet officer.
With a sigh he shifted in his seat however, slouching to one side with the palm of one hand propping his head up. Out of the corner of his eye he observed the Captain, who seemed to be spending an awful lot of time focusing on different areas of the roof. As Mishima's eyebrows seemed to knit further and further together, T'Mor finally cleared his throat. In his usual soft, silky smooth tone, he asked, "What do you see, sir?"
Kazuya sighed, sitting back in his chair with a flop. "I'm not sure."
"Same thing as yesterday?" Tania piped up, shooting a momentary glare across the bridge at Tim.
"I think so." Rising to his feet, the Captain took a few steps forward into the open space in the middle of the bridge. "It's difficult to describe, it's not something perceptible to humanoids. Perhaps...the best likeness I can draw...I can see blue steam wafting about the bridge, but I haven't a clue what it is. It's not something I've encountered before."
Scowling, Smith's fingers flew over the console before him. "I'm not picking anything up, sir."
"Of course you aren't." Kazuya's glance switched abruptly around the room, forcing him to turn to face the back of the bridge in one swift motion. His scowl deepened. "Lieutenant...take us out of Warp."
Furry brows raised, the Klingon helmsman nodded. "...aye, sir." Within moments of his tapping buttons, the starfield ground to a halt, each burning fleck of white remaining as it was.
"Strange..." Mishima lifted a hand and swatted at thin air. Or, so it would seem; left in the wake of the movement was a trail of blue glitter-like flecks of light, slowly twinkling out of existence a few seconds later. He repeated the motion, with the same effect; a trail of sparkles that quickly faded back into oblivion.
Tim's experimentation with the same caught both commanding officer's attention; it did not yield the same result. Kazuya's expression softened. "That won't get you anywhere, Smith. It's not something you can swat out of thin air..."
Muttering and mumbling, Smith stared down at his station. It certainly looked like the captain was swatting it out of thin air...
"Lieutenant, resume course. Murphy, T'Mor; get the away team organised. Smith, you and I are going to have a little fun while they're down on the surface..." Mishima sat back down in his chair, eyes cautiously glancing about the bridge, as if watching this mysterious 'steam' rendered invisible not just to everyone else's eyes, but the ship's sensors as well. After a moment the ship pulled forward, and with a burst of sound, directional force and brilliant light, they were back on their way at warp speed.
The First Officer and Chief of Security proceeded through the door at the rear of the bridge, Murphy quickly being replaced by a lower-ranking yellow-collar. It wasn't long now until they arrived at the planet...finally, a mission for the first time in a month.
Smith took a moment to yawn and stretch, seemingly taking great pleasure in popping and cracking every joint he could as loudly as possible. The slender brunette that replaced Murphy's stocky form pulled a face and grunted in disgust; it made Qo'Rath bare his sharp, ragged teeth in a grin that remained somewhat menacing. He laughed softly over his shoulder at the pair. "Flimsy little bones and joints. I should show you what a real joint crack sounds like..."
"No, no, we're fine..." The brunette wrinked her nose.
The Klingon tossed his head from side to side anyway, once in each direction; each motion resulted in a deep, meaty graunch, almost like bones snapping rather than simply shifting against each other.
"Oh, gross! Men are disgusting..." She held her head in one hand, dismayed.
"Feh! Whatever you say. Anyway..." Qo'Rath swiveled back around in his chair. "We are here."
Mishima shifted in his seat, moving to lean over one armrest. "Take us out of Warp...half impulse."
Once more the stars ceased to fly by; one settled in place much larger than the rest, its deep red glow illuminating the bridge through the viewscreen. Before it was a sizable planet, axis tilted on a wicked angle in relation to its star; oceans surrounded much of the surface, broken only by the occasional storm system or patch of green. There were no satellites orbiting the planet, either natural or mechanical.
Under impulse power the Legacy drew closer to the planet, finally locking into orbit. The away team had since been assembled; standing on the transporter pad in Transporter Room 1 was Murphy with her two Romulans, both armed heavily with cartons, bags, supplies and an assortment of equipment - neither man looked remarkably happy about being loaded down, despite being more than strong enough. Two more security personnel were on the team, both big, burly human men armed with the usual phasers; three blue-collared officers stood toward the back of the transporter pad, laden with research equipment and excited grins.
Mishima stood before them, hands on hips. A young, fresh-faced man - barely that - stood ready to receive orders behind a console to his right. "Remember, the gravity on the planet is somewhat lighter than that of the Legacy, and that of Earth. I imagine you two will actually appreciate the extra weight of your equipment." His dark eyes fell upon the two Romulans.
"I'm an Engineer, not a packhorse." Jetrel scowled. "This better be worth it."
"Stop whinging...look at it as a spot of exercise." T'Mor grinned. "If luck is with us, there should be a few more fresh veggies around the place in a few hours."
A faint smirk crossed Mishima's face. "Ensign...get this lot out of here. Energise..."
***
Crawling about in Jeffreys Tubes was hardly Kirzyk's idea of a good morning activity. Tricorder dragging on the floor below him, half-suspended by a strap over his shoulder, he grudgingly made his way to the next panel that needed his attention.
With a heavy sigh he turned over and sat down by an exposed panel. Glowing chips illuminated his unusual features; across the top of his cheeks and over his nose sat a thick row of large, pale freckles, leading to a pair of particularly long and extensively pierced ears. Being rather slight, he was also distinctly androgynous. Noteworthy was his figure - not quite male, but not quite female. Broad shoulders, matched by broad hips and a small waist, lithe musculature disguised by the Starfleet uniform he wore.
"Campbell...are you ready out there?" His voice echoed back out through the Jeffreys Tube. Like the rest of him, it was difficult to tell whether it was male or female; it was blatantly somewhere in between.
"Yes sir, ready to proceed on your mark." A distant male voice boomed back.
Kirzyk took a moment to rearrange a few of the chips inside the panel, replacing one with another he'd carried in. Sliding away once done, he flipped his tricorder open and gave the order to proceed: "Mark!"
The sound of the Legacy's Warp Core winding up filled Engineering; pulse after booming pulse echoed through the Jeffreys Tube, the walls vibrating from being in such close proximity to the core itself. One by one the chips inside the panel lit up - Kirzyk's bright eyes flitted from the panel to the tricorder, intently watching progress.
After a moment he leaned forward and yelled down the tube. "All good to stop now, we have success!" A matter of seconds later the noise cut out, leaving just a gentle thrum in place of the near-deafening pulses; Kirzyk replaced the face of the panel and proceeded to crawl back out towards Engineering.
Once out Kirzyk tossed the tricorder onto a table, stretched his arms over his head enthusiastically enough to nearly go blue in the face, and let out an enormous sigh. "Well...that's that recalibration done for the next few months I hope. We've got a perfect result...temps should stay optimum at maximum Warp."
"Nice. What's next on today's agenda?" A towering, dark-skinned human - most definitely Campbell - picked up the tricorder, glancing over the results himself. "Did Jetrel leave a list?"
"Nope." Kirzyk brushed his knees off, glancing around Engineering. "I guess we can just run a few more tests while we're idle in orbit...you know how anal Jetrel gets if we play too much with his precious Warp Core."
"Of course. I guess we can get going with...uh...." Campbell trailed off, suddenly gawking at the ceiling.
"What..." Kirzyk and half of Engineering were doing the same within a second...and for good reason. A cloud of blue was encircling the top of the Warp Core, glittering here and there in what would seemed almost like a haze of pure energy. Anomalies...Warp Core...not a good combination.
Kirzyk tapped his combadge. "Engineering to the Bridge...we've got a situation down here. Can you please perform a full sensor sweep of Engineering?" His voice wavered, azure eyes simply unable to tear away from the spectacle above.
"Proceeding. I'm reading an enormous amount of energy down there, but it's difficult to tell what it is. It looks like it might be-- it's gone. Vanished..." Tim's voice trailed off.
"Kirzyk, what did you see?" Kazuya's voice echoed about Engineering from the bridge.
"Uh...I really don't know, Captain. Some sort of mist...it just disappeared. It doesn't seem to have caused any damage, but you never know..." Kirzyk, keeping his eyes on the empty space the mist had disappeared from, began pacing around the Core. "Any idea of what it was?"
A pause from the Bridge. "Actually...I'm starting to get a fair idea. It should be harmless...at least for a while. Let me know if you see anything down there again. Mishima out."
Tim exhaled heavily as he ran his fingers over a series of buttons on his console. "I wish I could catch it. It never hangs around long enough for me to get a reliable reading from the sensors..." His voice was strained...Mishima knew Smith, and he knew he grew impatient when he was out of answers.
"I might be able to help you there. Get ready to perform a sensor sweep on the Bridge."
Kazuya held one hand out in front of him, fingers splayed; at first nothing seemed to be happening. The Bridge crew watched intently, expectantly; gradually, an air of tension - almost as if the air itself was thick with static electricity - soaked the room to the point it grew nearly unbearable. Tim was one of the many that were so transfixed on the Captain that he'd completely forgotten to perform his duties; he watched in awe, in near-horror, as the mist returned, encircling the Captain's arm like a thick, slow-moving tornado.
Opaque, glowing blue, the mist began to congeal; it trailed slowly back down Kazuya's arm, forming a tight egg-shaped ball of energy just beyond the reach of his fingers. While Mishima's brows furrowed about the middle in a scowl of concentration, jaws were dropped in anticipation around the rest of the Bridge, hearts racing...
The egg of glowing blue energy continued to compact; slowly, surely, it began to contract into a glassy, bubbling reflection of the Captain's hand. As the mist cleared around the luminescing object, it had taken on the form of a glassy, sapphire-like human hand...or, the bones thereof.
Hesitantly the bony index finger craned upward, reaching for the fleshy, slender fingers in front of it. Closer, closer...
The room hung in heavy silence as the two drew close enough to touch; in the last millimetre, at that very last second, it once again became engulged in a thick cloud of mist. In the blink of an eye, a blinding, brilliant flash of blue exploded across the Bridge, the force of which was enough to knock everyone off their feet and onto their backs.
Spluttering, rubbing his eyes, Qo'Rath scrabbled at his chair with his free hand for balance. Despite his best efforts he was unable to blink away the halo of black imprinted onto his vision from the explosion.
Behind him, the rest of the crew was struggling to their feet. The Captain had found his chair and was sitting on the edge of it, rubbing his eyes with both hands, trying to will away the spots burned into his eyes. "Is anyone hurt?" Quicker than anyone else's, Mishima's vision cleared up enough for him to navigate the Bridge adequately...
Murmurs and words best not repeated were the response from the bridge crew; as vision returned to the room, Tim scraped himself back up onto his feet and squinted down at his console. "Damn...I still have no idea what it was. I..."
"I do." Mishima interrupted. "I've got a damn good idea what it was. Get the away team back," he turned toward the man by the tactical station, "We have company."