Stuck on the Bridge

Posted on 24 Oct 2026 @ 3:28pm by Lieutenant JG Quinn Mackie & Lieutenant Commander Joey Geisler & Lieutenant JG Aerie Mak & Lieutenant JG Tevik & Lieutenant JG Kelly Khan & Master Chief Petty Officer Mila Rasputin-Crehan

1,931 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Acceleration
Timeline: February 8, 2391 || 2130 hours

==== Bridge ====

Thirty minutes had passed since the relief team had come to the bridge and sequestered themselves in the Conference Room. In that time, a feeling of unease had come across the bridge. For Quinn Mackie, the operations officer still manning the forward Squadron Operations console, a feeling of helplessness had overcome him. The real danger sat below decks, deep down in sickbay where Tiburon crew members suffered greatly from some biological marvel and Black Hawk crewmembers idly stood by, seeing their future in those patients. It was only a matter of time before what happened to the Tiburon crew would begin making its way through this ship.

And here was Lieutenant Mackie, running level four after level three diagnostic, just to have something to do since the squadron was far from the roost. Perhaps he should have listened to Commander Geisler and taken up a chair in the Conference Room and be on standby until someone else on the bridge needed to be relieved.

He shook his head. No, he thought. Waiting for feel useful was worse than pretending to be useful.

Kelly sat at her station on the bridge, now regretting her Bridge Officer training and wanting to rise quickly through the ranks. She didn't regret joining Starfleet, but she was questioning her desire to be out on the frontier where everything they encountered had tried to kill them.

She checked the readings on the Tiburon as they towed it at warp five and wished she could just drop the tractor beam on the cursed ship and go to maximum warp, but she had a job to do.

Mak approached Quinn, his arms folded behind his back. Tensions were high and focus faltered. However, as his ear device hummed keeping his thoughts focused. He quietly inquired on how the systems were operating, "How's it look?"

He respected the 'looking busy', but inside however, Mak knew. Everyone involved felt worn and terrified.

"The console is fine," Quinn said, looking up from the console to see the Operations Chief. "Though it's been fine for the last hour. I did see that computer processing as a whole could be slowing down."

The doors of the ready room slid open with a soft hiss. Joey stepped out, her expression tightly guarded. She had just finished checking on her children and dogs. For now, they were protected from the nightmare creeping through the ship's veins.

Her gaze swept across the bridge, landing on the crew scattered at their stations.

A grim thought tightened Joey's chest. How long?

How many hours, or even minutes, before any one of them started showing symptoms? Did they somehow manage to keep the contagion out when they sealed the bridge, or was that just a comforting delusion? She knew the answer before the question even fully formed in her mind. If their past encounters were anything to go by, they were never that lucky. Fate loved a cruel irony, especially out on the frontier.

Crossing the deck with deliberate, steady steps, Joey made her way to the command chair and settled firmly into it. She cast one final, sweeping look around the bridge before lifting her chin. "Alright, everyone," she said. "Do we have any reports coming from the rest of the ship?"

"It's been quiet," Quinn said, looking up at the woman. "Everything seems to be running just fine from as far as I can see."

Mila crossed from the Ready Room door where she had been keeping one eye on the twins and another on a PADD in her hand. "Da. We are at operational strength according to all departments. Commander Di Pasquale is recommending Lieutenant JG Wallace be designated as Acting Chief of Security in the event she and Lieutenant Mitchell are unable to perform their duties. Both are currently confined to Sickbay, Commander."

For a brief, fleeting moment, a rush of relief washed over Joey. Systems were green, operations were holding steady, and for all their collective terror, the ship was functional. But the comfort vanished as quickly as it arrived, replaced by a cold knot in her stomach. How long can that possibly last?

The answer crashed down when Mila delivered the blow. Both the Chief and Assistant Chief of Security and Tactical were locked down in sickbay, quarantined with the rest of the afflicted.

Joey felt the familiar itch of instinct kick in. Given her background, she was more than capable of stepping down into Tactical and running the department herself—she had the operational know-how to keep them defended. But looking at the crushing weight of everything else already demanding her attention, she knew she couldn't stretch herself that thin without snapping.

Straightening in the command chair, Joey turned her focus to Mila, her expression serious.

"Get Lieutenant Wallace to the conference room as soon as possible," Joey instructed, her voice dropping into a firm, urgent register. "I want her close by just in case she's needed to take over tactical operations."

"Da," Mila said as she sent the message to Tactical to have Lieutenant Wallace report to the bridge.

The chain of command was holding. Holding by a frayed thread, but holding nonetheless.

"Keep me posted the second everyone reports to the conference room, Mila," Joey said quietly, the tension in her shoulders refusing to ease. "I want to brief them all at the same time."

"It will be okay, Joey," Mila said quietly. "I will be notifying you soon."

Joey wanted to believe Mila. She truly did—she wanted to lean into that quiet reassurance and trust that the ship wouldn't fall apart beneath their feet. "Thank you, Mila," Joey murmured, her tone measured.

Turning away from the command tier, she moved toward the intelligence console. Once she brought the terminal to life, her fingers moved swiftly across the interface to dig through the information they acquired from the Tiburon. Maybe, she would get lucky and find something that was missed.


==== Conference Room ====

Tevik sat in the conference room. He had been summoned to the bridge but was instead here. His head was slightly lowered and his eyes were closed. His hand were steepled before him, resting on the conference table. Anyone watching him would be hard pressed to if he was asleep or meditating.

The conference room doors parted and Sunni stepped across the threshold, answering the urgent summons. Her eyes scanned the space, taking in the few people present—the atmosphere thick with the lingering weight of the crisis unfolding just decks below.

With a practiced motion, she smoothed her hands down the front of her uniform jacket, squaring her shoulders as she crossed the room and took a seat at the table. "We may not know each other on a personal or professional level, but it seems like we've been placed in a position none of us thought we would be in when we woke up," Sunni said softly, keeping her voice low but clear. "That being said, how is everyone holding up?"

Tevik raised his head as Sunni spoke, his eyes on the newcomer. He noticed her rank, same as his. "Quite correct Lieutenant. While what you said is correct, you neglected to mention we are shipmates an as such we have that in common." A pause, "As to how everyone is holding up I can only speak for myself and say I wish I was doing more. However, good things come to those who wait so I am told."

Sunni let out a soft, dry breath, offering Tevik a slight, knowing nod. "You're entirely correct," she admitted, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she looked down at her hands resting on the table. "And I have to say, I share that exact sentiment. I wish I was doing more, too."

She shifted slightly in her seat, letting a hint of her underlying frustration show.

"If I'm being honest, waiting around here while everything is unfolding below deck makes me feel a bit restless," Sunni added, a rueful edge to her voice. "It's a strange kind of helplessness just sitting on your hands when you're used to being in the middle of it. How much longer do you suppose we'll be stuck waiting?"

Tevik listened as Sunni spoke of waiting and feeling helpless. "Your feeling of being restless is well taken. However, as of right now the decision is out of our hands and we have been regulated to being bystanders. Hopefully that will change and we will be able to contribute and make a positive impact."

Sunni offered a slow, heavy nod in agreement, momentarily dropping her head into her hands as the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on her. "You're right," she said, her voice muffled slightly by her palms before she straightened up and looked back across the table. "And I'm sure we will see our time to help—someone's going to need us eventually. It's just a matter of when, and whether we'll like what's waiting for us when they finally call."

Tevik listened to Sunni and her statement. When she had finished he spoke, "The humans have a saying, patience is a virtue. However I am not sure it applies in this situation when the waiting borders on the intolerable. Though I see no other option available other than to wait." He finished.

"A virtue, maybe," Sunni agreed, a dry, humorless smile touching the corner of her lips as she met his gaze. "Though I suspect whoever coined that phrase never had to sit on their hands while an unknown contagion swept through the decks below, but you're right," she added. "Our only other real option is tearing these bulkheads apart with our bare hands, and I have a feeling Engineering wouldn't appreciate the extra repair work. So, waiting it is."


==== Bridge ====

Quinn sighed as his most recent level three diagnostic completed. These may have only taken a few minutes to run, but each time the results had turned up with nothing worth speaking up about.

Except there was something that caught his eye.

"Commander?" Quinn called out. "I'm showing some irregularities in the power grid. It almost... looks like electromagnetic interference."

"Electromagnetic interference?" Joey repeated, head snapped up. She straightened from the console, stepping back toward the center tier. "Can you pinpoint where it's coming from? Is it localized to a specific deck, or is it bleeding in from the tow-line?"

Kelly glanced over and looked at the readouts for the tractor beam that was locked onto the Tiburon, but it looked fine to her.

Mak had been quietly studying the sensor readings and Quinn's findings in his head. Crossed arms, he placed his hand below his chin and listened. Furrowing his brows, he interjected, "We'd have to isolate it first. See if its emitting specific radiation signatures. It'll have to take a few moments, commander. We need more data."

He walked over to the console beside Quinn and studied the readouts, letting him take the lead.

"Standby," Quinn said, slightly unnerved that all eyes were on him. He tapped a few controls and started to narrow down the source of the interference. "Um... Commander. It looks like... yes, it's coming from the Tiburon. The tractor beam is..." His eyes widened as his voice trailed off. The readouts were growing as energy levels began to spike towards critical mass.

"Power surge! I can't stop it! Everyone hold on!"

Then everything went black.

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