Out of Touch

[Mreh K'hal 0]

Normally dropping off an away team and then being left behind wasn't too upsetting for Ensign Jennifer Harmon. She could lock up the ship and amble over to the port/station/city's nearest watering hole and immerse herself into the local ambiance, or take in the sights if there were any. The situation on Black Marsh however was the exact opposite. Dropping down in the middle of a jungle on an apparently uninhabited planet meant no local ambiance or sights to see. Thumbing through the a fashion mag hadn't provided nearly enough entertainment, especially since it was a six month old copy that she'd looked through enough times she could hand sew half the dresses herself. Feeling lonely, she locked up her Normandy and wandered over to the other. After letting herself in, she then poked her head into the cockpit.

 

"Hey Tivosk," she said, then settled into the co-pilot's seat.

 

"Ensign Harmon," the gangly Vulcan responded, with a raised eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

 

"No, no. Just though I'd come over and keep you company."

 

"I see," he said, his eyebrow winging up even higher onto his forehead. He postulated that, as Harmon knew full well his Vulcan heritage, that her statement meant she came over for him to keep her company rather than the other way around, as he needed no company.

 

"So, how's the communication uplink holding up?" She asked.

 

"It has been intermittent. We are experiencing increased delays and interference with the signal."

 

"Oh. What's the problem?"

 

"Unknown. The relay fighters and communications buoy are still in position. Perhaps the radiation levels have increased in the upper level of atmosphere."

 

"Perhaps?" Harmon asked, used to more definitive statements from her Vulcan colleague. "You can't tell?"

 

"No," Tivosk responded, his brow creased very slightly. "The scanning equipment aboard these transports is relatively rudimentary. Most often the vessels are deployed using pre-gathered intelligence and/or auxiliary scanning craft, such as fighters, scouts, or command center craft."

 

"The sensors aren't the only thing that's rudimentary. They barely bothered to install sufficient RCS to land the things in atmosphere."

 

"Indeed," he agreed. "The design placed a premium on shielding, armor, and space for the troops. They are auxiliary crafts with a very specialized purpose."

 

"Yeah, I'd rather fly a cargo shuttle than one of these again, but you gotta do what you've gotta do," Harmon stated.

 

Tivosk nodded, and then intensely focused his attention back on the console. His hands moved across it rapidly a moment.

 

"Problem?" Harmon asked.

 

"Indeed. It appears we have lost contact with the Excalibur. Our data relay session has fully terminated. Attempting to re-initialize now."

 

"Hmm..." She accessed the communications on the terminal to her right. "Harmon to Excalibur, come in please." A moment passed. "Nothing, damn. We'd better check in with the away team. Harmon to Corizon... Harmon to Garrison... Harmon to Victria... Oh come on, they're not even ten kilometers away, what's the problem? Harmon to anyone, do you read?"

 

"I am unable to re-initialize data contact with the Excalibur, voice communications obviously are not accessible either. I cannot, at this time, even verify whether the communications buoy or fighters are receiving transmissions," Tivosk said.

 

"Damn it," Harmon said, pounding a fist on the console. "I knew there'd be hiccups with this, but no one said anything about the comms just falling off the map. Are you sure it's not on our end?"

 

"Diagnostics have come back negative for errors."

 

"Maybe we should still try using the other ship, try combining the resources, maybe it'll be enough to get through."

 

"Probability of success is low, though it could not hurt to try," Tivosk agreed.

 

"All right, I'll head over there now." Harmon rose from her seat and exited the cockpit, heading for the hatch. Tivosk could hear the door easing open before there came a high pitched yelp. He quickly jumped out of his chair and headed out of the cockpit as he heard the door slammed shut. He saw Harmon standing there, her skin bleached pale and her hand trembling.

 

"Look!" She shouted, pointing to the small view-port beside the door.

 

Tivosk eased up to the window and peered outside. He could see in the low lighting of the Normandy's exterior lights, large figures moving around near they other ship. As one turned its head toward their craft, his eyebrow winged up. A group of the figures quickly ran over to the vessel.

 

"It appears that we are not as alone as we assumed," he stated calmly.

 

"You think?" Harmon asked incredulously. "So much for using the other ship. Thank goodness I locked it up tight before I came over here."

 

"Indeed," Tivosk said. "We must re-establish contact with the away team and warn them."

 

"Yeah, let's get to work."