Through the Breach (Part 7 of 12)

Posted on 18 Jul 2015 @ 3:43am by Rear Admiral Lirha Saalm & Lieutenant JG Cyrin Xanth & Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Lieutenant JG Manuel Lucero

4,276 words; about a 21 minute read

Mission: Episode 09 - Empires
Location: USS Galileo - Various
Timeline: MD 01 - 2110 hrs

Previously, on Through the Breach (Part 6)...

Sigrun took the bandages, but left the scissors and instead pulled out a small knife and swiftly cut some straps and started to bind the lieutenant down finishing with a band over her head. "Alright now lets see what we are dealing with." she said taking the medical tricorder, she was no medical expert, but she knew first aid and concussions she had seen ample of.

The tricorder was reading no serious injuries save a concussion as the woman had bashed her head when gravity went off-line. Tyrion stood by their sides, watching anxiously. "Is she alright ma'am?"

"Knock on the head seems to be all, she should wake up in a bit." Sigrun said putting the medical ticorder back in the floating box. "Perhaps time for us to see what the hell just happened." she than added looking for a normal tricorder.

And Now, the Continuation...

[ON]

Deck 3 - Multi-Purpose Lab 1

The first thing Cyrin became aware of was a pounding pain in his head, pulsing in time with a hiss like white noise across his slowly recovering mind. His eyes snapped open as consciousness returned, then squeezed shut as a groan left his lips. He could feel the growing knot on his forehead from where it had struck his console as they fell in towards the...

"Event horizon," he muttered, heart rate picking up. He remembered the last few moment of telemetry he'd seen, had just worked through the numbers to realize that they'd already passed the point of no return and that the singularity would have them no matter what they did. The engines had been straining, alarms had been blaring, the ship bucking and heaving.

He slowly rotated around his axis, instinctively knowing he was free from the bounds of gravity even before his pounding head consciously realized it; Cyrin took to zero-g like a fish to water, as he spent many of his shore leave hours playing in it. One complete rotation and he was able to start putting his situation together. Main power was down, emergency backups were intermittent, battery-powered lights were flickering, and he wasn't the only one floating in the lab. The pain was receding slightly, but that damned hissing noise in his skull hadn't gotten any better.

Several meters away, an analyser finally broke free from it's broken latch and started to float with the rest of the debris. As it did, another figure floated by it, released from the item's weight which had pressed it against the wall.

Oren had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a good ten minutes, his head pounding much like Cyrin's. Unlike Cyrin, as consciousness won over, Oren didn't know what had happened. The last thing he remembered was talking to the Trill. Opening his eyes, Oren looked around at the floating items in the room, confused.

"Wh...wha...happened?" he groaned, feeling ill.

"We have apparently survived our entry into the singularity," Cyrin said, a little dryly. He carefully reached out to grasp a length of ODN relays that had come free of the ceiling, studied his intended course, then pulled just enough to give himself some momentum. The Trill floated across the room towards Oren, and reached out another hand to transfer that kinetic energy into the bulkhead behind the other man, coming to a stop.

"Are you badly hurt?" he asked, searching for any obvious signs of blood or trauma on Oren. "I think I might have a concussion, but I can manage." The hissing continued, easily heard by all in the room now even above the sound of debris striking bulkheads with a noise somewhat like a hard rain. Cyrin still thought for the moment it was just from his head injury.

"I...I can't breathe," Oren admitted, feeling his ribcage constrict in pain with every shallow breath. He tried to move but a wave of dizziness overcame him. Groaning, he finally looked up at Cyrin, only to see more than one. Ignoring the pain in his chest, Oren reached up to rub his eyes, hoping to make the extra Cyrins disappear.

"I think I might have broken a rib....or eight," he revealed, gently patting himself down to try and assess any damage he might not be able to feel. Pulling his hand away from himself after a moment to look down at it, the El-Aurian was happy that there was no blood.

"Take it easy," Cyrin said as comfortingly as he could. "There's a medkit in here, there should be some analgesic and maybe even some tri-ox in it." He left Oren floating where he was and gracefully descended towards the deck with another push off the wall. Within a few more moments, he had pried open the panel and pulled out the kit. Cyrin's own head was starting to feel a little dizzy in the time he took to load the hypospray and return, while his flesh began to break out in goosebumps at how cold it was becoming.

"Here, this should help," he said, holding Oren by one shoulder and depressing the dose into the man's neck. "A little p-pick me up and something to help you breathe a lit-little easier." Knowing it was likely useless anyways, he tapped his commbadge, and his own breath misted in the air as he spoke. "This is Ensign Xanth, to S-Sickbay." Not even static met their ears, besides what could be heard already. What he couldn't fail to notice and what Oren would likely see as well, however, was the condensation from their breathing was drifting noticeably towards the ceiling as if there were a current in the room.

Oren saw it but didn't make the connection as the analgesic took hold and he relaxed. Breathing still felt difficult, but in a different way and, as the last dregs of pain faded, he heard a distinct noise.

Blinking a few times, he looked over at Cyrin, trying to see if he heard it too or if it was simply a side effect of his injuries.

"Do you heard that? Like...." He began to hiss gently to emulate the noise and, as he did, his eyes locked with the moving condensation, following it.

Seeing Oren's face begin to relax, Cyrin relaxed a bit too. He had begun to open the medical tricorder he'd pulled from the kit and run a scan, but paused when the other scientist began to make a close approximation to the hissing noise that was assaulting his own skull. Their eyes locked for a moment, then he realized what was going on.

"B-b-breach!" How could he have been so slow in recognizing it? It was one of every crewman's worse nightmares, or at least it was for him. A breach in the precious life-sustaining hull could spell disaster for the entire ship. Now that he was thinking about it, Cyrin wouldn't be surprised if there were multiple breaches throughout the ship.

That meant two things for them, at least immediately. The first was that the doors would be sealed, as even without the power on a drop in pressure would trigger mechanical locks, at least until a damage control team arrived to trigger an override. The second was that they were going to have to figure this out themselves, at least until damage control did arrive. If they arrived. There was just one problem. With his head pounding from his own injury, Cyrin couldn't remember what to do first.

Blinking at Cyrin, it took Oren several moments to mentally digest what he was being told. Eventually, it seemed to click and Oren stared at Cyrin.

"Breach? Br...Hull breach?" he asked, trying to process it still. He looked from Cyrin, up to the ceiling, hoping to spot where the breach was, or that it was even there. A part of him still couldn't believe it.

At the immediate implications, Oren swallowed hard, closing his eyes. Deep breaths, he told himself, trying to calm down. Luckily, the drugs Cyrin had given him helped and, as moments passed and they circulated through his body, the fact that they could both easily suffocate didn't seem so dire.

As he opened his eyes, he felt calm. "Okay...uh, what to do..." He looked around, clumsily trying to stay balanced in zero gravity but it was proving to be difficult. Oren had no training and all the floating threatened to make him sick. "We need to find it first, right?" He turned back to Cyrin.

"Right, right," Cyrin agreed, his eyes wide but instinctively refraining from making any jerking movements that would send him tumbling. Find the breach. It shamed him that Oren had to remind him of what they had to do; Cyrin had had the training like this back at the Academy. Their breath in the rapidly cooling and depleting air wasn't enough though. Desperately, he began to look around the ruined lab, wondering what they could use. Smoke from a fire might help, but it would also quickly use up the last of their oxygen.

"S-s-sup-p-ply cab-cabinet," he stammered, eyes snapping down to the place he was referring to. There were chemical analyzers in here that could use liquids. Words were obviously failing him right now in this crisis, so he reached out for some of the dangling cables above, held them out to Oren, and gestured for him to hang on to keep from hurting himself further. There was enough drifting debris in here already that could bruise. As soon as he was able to, Cyrin propelled himself down towards the deck and had the door to the cabinet open in moments.

"I hate zero gravity," Oren complained, following Cyrin to the best of his ability but, without any training, he was all knees and elbows, trying maneuver behind the Trill while not bumping into him. Still grumbling under his breath, he managed settle more or less decently next to Cyrin as he rummaged through the supply cabinet.

"Nothing?" Oren regretfully predicted, already looking around. Eventually, his eyes fell on one of the chemical analyzers. "We need a cutter beam. Is there an engineering kit in there?" he asked.

The Trill's eyes were growing a little desperate. It was growing noticeably colder as the minutes passed, and he was beginning to notice the first signs of the lowering air pressure. His head was growing dizzier than just the concussion would account for. They didn't have much longer at this rate. With a sigh, he look at Oren and shook his head. There was nothing left in the cabinet that they could use. There was, just as the other had suggested however, a small laser torch.

"What d-did you have in m-m-m..." Cyrin's eyes tracked over to where Oren was looking. Of course! The analyzers might have some fluids left inside of them. With another push, he sent himself flying towards them, and brought down the glowing end of the laser torch just as soon as he was in range. There was a flash of sparks and flare of light, but with a few more seconds, the broken analyzer had begun to leak fat drops of bright green and purple liquid into the air.

Floating back a bit to get a better view, Oren followed the drops as they floated up, towards wherever the breach was. Rubbing his hands together absentmindedly, he watched the big blobs of fluid slowly begin to come apart, heading to different parts of the hull. Blinking, he jumped up a bit to follow them now that they were smaller.

"Well...that's not good," he said unnecessarily as he saw the drops head to at least three different breaches in the hull.

"Oh no," Cyrin whispered, seeing the same. The lab had multiple breaches. He didn't want to calculate the odds of them being able to seal them off in time. He couldn't think well enough for that anyways, with the terror he was feeling. "We've g-gotta s-s-seal them," he stuttered, unnecessarily, but had already started moving once again. The laser torch would be too weak to try to use as a welding tool, and there were no phasers in the lab, so the best they might try to do for now was to physically seal the breaches.

As the fluid continued to rise and make it's way to the small cracks in the hull, Cyrin braced himself against the cabinet and began to pull with all his strength. A few hard tugs, and he was able to tear off one of the doors, then the other a moment later. "Oren!" he called out, sending them drifting through the air towards the other scientist. "I n-need to get more. Try to c-cover the holes." With Oren's broken ribs, he might not be able to pull the panels free they needed, but he should be able to hold the seals over the breaches until help arrived.

Oren just nodded, grabbing one of the doors before gently pushing himself up via the chemical analyser. Unfortunately, he still had a hard time knowing just how much force to use and ended up slamming against the ceiling, sending a shock of pain through his side. With a grunt, he shook for a few moments, waiting for the pain to pass before pressing the door to the breach. The thing as too big and Oren had a feeling it was also the wrong shape to completely seal it at the angle they needed. Cursing under his breath, Oren floated back back to grab the other door and the laser torch they'd used. With the doors under his arm and the cutter in hand, he pushed himself from the analyser again, gently this time.

Once back up by the breach, Oren used the torch to cut the door into what he hoped was at least a more appropriate shape to use. "This way, we won't need so many," Oren told Cyrin, cutting the second door into another shape.

Satisfied, he stretched his arms as much as the pain allowed and pressed the two pieces against the breaches he could reach. Only two left, both right next to one another, so he hoped Cyrin could seal them easily enough.

Meanwhile, Cyrin had been struggling to pull free the smooth metal covers beneath the computer stations that concealed the conduits and circuitry. He'd wrapped his legs around one of the chairs before he started to strain and pull, and despite the temperature dropping was soon sweating from the exertion. It was difficult, without the gravity on, but at last he managed to tear another section free.

He saw the work Oren had done to extend their resources, and nodding approvingly as he made his way back up towards the ceiling. It would be a relief to not have to try to find any other patches in the meantime. Taking the torch back, he sliced his own door in two even as he followed the last bits of fluid that leaked from the broken analyzer. "Al-almost th-there..." he muttered, shivering.

Finally, he managed to place his two makeshift seals into place, held them against the hull, and kept himself in position with his legs holding on to some conduit from the ceiling. "Th-they'll c-c-come f-for us s-s-soon, s-sir," Cyrin tried to say reassuringly, tried his best to keep the fear from his eyes as he looked across the distance that separated them.

Looking back, Oren gave Cyrin a smile. "Of course they will," he replied, sounding like he believed it. Truth be told, in his drug addled mind, he did. That was how things work, right? You struggle to save yourself, and then, when things seem dire, the heroes swoop in to save you.

Hearing the optomism echoed back to him made Cyrin start to believe it was true. They could hold out for now. The leaks would be small enough that they could survive until help came. That they'd done all that they could possibly was reassuring as well. Yes, he'd freaked out during the crisis, but Cyrin had also done his best to help Oren and help them both. The Trill was able to smile even as he shivered.

Sighing, Oren saw his breath in front of him and he couldn't deny that, up where the breaches were, it was damn cold. And the air felt thinner, making it even harder for him to breathe. Swallowing hard, he wished he hadn't been given painkillers because, if his expression on the bulkhead was anything to go by, he looked way too relaxed for someone about to die.

As the door he'd been holding up seemed to slip out of place, he pressed harder, but it didn't seem to work. Struggling against the air, he suddenly saw the torch they'd been using float down.

Down? he wondered, only then realising how the torch wasn't the only thing sinking towards the floor.

"Oh no," Oren muttered under his breath, as he watched himself and Cyrin move away from the breaches, unsealing them once again.

Gravity was back on.

"No, no, no!" Cyrin cried out as he started to sink towards the ground. He struggled against the inevitable, tried to get some purchase with his legs on the broken conduits, tried to keep his seals in place. He couldn't stop it though, and soon was drifting down towards the deck. The hissing noise returned, the sound of their precious air leaving the lab. Frustrated tears appeared in his eyes, and with an angry snarl he tossed his pieces of plating aside.

As used to the changes in gravity as he was, Cyrin managed to catch his balance down on the deck first, and reached out to help steady Oren as well. For a moment, he felt like raging further, to shout and hit something, to go on fighting up until the very end. But they really had done everything they could. There was no way out of the room, and they weren't going to be able to get up towards the ceiling again where the breaches were. The fight went out of him then, as it would do nothing but hasten their end by using up precious oxygen.

"Th-that's th-that," he said through chattering teeth, the sadness on his face plain to see. Cyrin's hand on Oren's shoulder squeezed slightly, uncharacteristically seeking comfort from someone else; he never really liked to touch people to begin with. There was still something else that he could do though. "Take a s-s-seat," he suggested, and offered his arm to help Oren get down to the deck in the corner near the door. Then he went back to the medkit, pull out the silvery folds of a thermal blanket. A quick snap had the blanket opened, and he settled it around his shoulders before sitting down as well. Then, reaching out, he took Oren's slimmer form in his arms, wrapped the blanket around them both, and sighed.

Having begun to shiver as he settled down, whether it was the adrenaline or the cold itself (probably both), Oren felt relieved. Wrapping his arms tenderly around himself, he was surprised by Cyrin's initiative, as well as his offer of body heat. It was oddly touching, given the desperate situation they were in, that Oren almost laughed.

"Of all the times for the engineers to pull their hands out of their ass," he grumbled, but his words held no heat to them as Oren rested his head on Cyrin's shoulder. "I can't believe this," he added, sighing.

It felt strange to be so close to someone like this, even if it was likely the final minutes of his life, and Cyrin was tense. Oren was warm, and didn't seem to mind the closeness at all, which had made sense to the Trill but didn't make it any easier for him. Cyrin shook his head, "Th-they couldn't know." His voice was softer than it was even usually, but he sounded as if he'd calmed down now.

"I never thought it'd end like this," he admitted with a frown. "I thought I'd keep going, through the symbiote, for centuries." It made Cyrin so sad that he would be Xanth's first and last host. "I was s-supposed to protect it, to honour it, and in return Xanth would keep a piece of m-me alive forever. I've failed, Xanth." He was speaking out loud, the words of a frightened young man expressing his guilt. Cyrin shivered, and his arms around Oren held the other a little tighter.

Oren looked up at Cyrin's profile from his position on the man's shoulder, feeling a growing sadness and empathy in the pit of his stomach, as if he had a phantom symbiont of his own, contracting in sympathy for its brother. He swallowed hard, unsure what to say. What could he possibly say to take away the sadness of the moment?

"Maybe this isn't the end," Oren supplied after a few moments of thought, his attention turned to Cyrin rather than himself.

"Not for Xanth. Maybe it will survive even after you're gone. They're resilient little things. I'm sure it can hold out a little." Oren had no idea if what he was saying was true, but he hoped it would give Cyrin at least a little comfort, and perhaps some motivation to stay alive as long as possible.

"Maybe," Cyrin admitted, trying not to let despair overwhelm him. The young man fell silent for a time, beathing shallowly and shivering beneath the blanket as it grew colder still. He wondered how much longer now. Xanth might indeed survive without him, perhaps could go on for minutes or a few short hours before it met it's own end. That might give others in the crew time enough to save the symbiote. It was a long shot, Cyrin knew it, but it was comforting to believe in Oren's words maybe just a little.

After a while, and quieter now than he'd been before, Cyrin spoke, "I'm s-sorry, Oren. Sorry I wasn't a real f-friend to you, or to anyone else on board." Despite having been on board the Galileo all these months, he'd not gotten to really know anyone. He kept himself separate even when people like Oren had tried to be welcoming to him. "You r-r-really are a g-good person."

Pursing his lips, Oren tightened his hold on Cyrin a bit, hoping to comfort him.

"You're a good person too, Cyrin. I don't think you did anything wrong," he assured the Trill, not taking his head off his shoulder. It wasn't like Oren was in any position to judge others on keeping their distance. His own on board relationships were muddled at best. There wasn't one relationship he'd established that wasn't complicated to hell, from his mixed signals with Grayson, to his current situation with Ellsworth. With death less than an hour away, it all seemed terribly stupid.

"We probably wouldn't have been friends long. Eventually, I would do something idiotic, or convince myself that you did something really offensive and cut you off," Oren finally told him, staring at the doors of the lab, but not seeing them. He felt stuck in his mind, thinking of all of the stupid things he'd done on board. All the people he'd pushed away, whether through direct action or just neglect.

Cyrin shook his head in disagreement. When he'd first come on board, Oren had been so laid back, so friendly, that he couldn't really see what the other was saying. He didn't want to fight though, and as he'd just admitted, it wasn't like he had let himself get to know the other well enough to really judge. His jaw creaked as he yawned, so tired now. "I g-guess we b-both messed up," he said, surprising himself by laughing slightly.

Oren let out a small laugh as well, probably more out of hysteria than anything else. "Good thing we're not about to die, or this would be really ironic," the end of his sentence became a yawn as Oren suddenly began to feel the combined effect of oxygen deprivation and pain killers.

As they began to drift off, both Oren and Cyrin failed to notice the hissing in the room as stopped as, a few decks away, the integrity field had been restored.

Exhausted from their ordeal, their injuries and their struggle earlier to stay alive, it was easy to just head towards sleep. Oren was warm against him, when everything else was so cold, and Cyrin didn't even care anymore that he was touching someone. In fact, he was glad that he wasn't alone at the end. Maybe if he'd had a chance, he would have done things differently, but as he struggled and gasped for breath, it didn't seem to matter much anymore.

His eyes drifted closed, and only opened briefly as the damage control team entered the room not too much later. Cyrin could see them in their suits, carrying their kits, caught a glimpse of a peaceful looking Oren, as he was loaded onto a stretcher.

Manuel began to feel his feet lift from the floor. He gripped the console and pulled himself back into his chair, alarms blaring around him as he maintained as many processes as he possibly could.

To Be Continued...

[OFF]

--

RADM Lirha Saalm
Mission Advisor
USS Galileo

ENS Cyrin Xanth
Astrophysicist
USS Galileo

LTJG Oren Idris
Chief Research Officer
USS Galileo

LTJG Manuel Lucero V
Asst. Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

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