Oops (FTR SEAL Log)

[Kansas_Jones 0]

USS Washington’s Crossing, FTR SEAL Operations

Gygax Star System

17:30 Ships Standard Time

 

Commander K. Vacer JoNs regarded the main bridge viewer with some curiosity. This was definitely different. Join the Starfleet, see the Universe and encounter…large obstacles in your path. The commanding officer of the USS Washington’s Crossing silently observed her bridge crew; those going off duty gave their fellows a brief verbal confirmation of events.

 

“Well, that’s a big cloud of mist there, Sir.”

 

JoNs turned as the ship’s Second Officer walked up behind her, coming on shift with the others. ‘Yes it is, Lieutenant Commander.” She flicked one ear in amusement and purred at the Human female.

 

The two command-level SEALs regarded the main viewer, though it was the 2nd XO who commented on the movement of the USS Comanche Creek. She cocked her head to one side in speculation. “…Captain Calestorm seems to be moving into a scatter shot holding position…”

 

The commander nodded in agreement. “Good eye. Position offers a skewed angle in case anything, well, goes scatter shot and the ‘Creek needs to evade.” The feline now regarded her officer with some amusement. “We’ll make a ship-to-ship tactician of you yet, Grace.” JoNs’s tone was teasing towards the former field operative turned command track officer.

 

“Well, there’s no need to be insulting now, Sir.” Grace feigned hurt, but the twinkle in her eyes showed mirth.

 

The COMM Officer, a man sporting naval camouflage BDU’s and the stripes of a petty officer, politely interrupted the conversation. “Commander?”

 

The leonine feline half turned towards the speaker. “Yes?”

 

“Comanche Creek is preparing to launch the modified probe.”

 

“Change viewer angle, link up with the data feed. On main screen.”

 

“Linking and tapping into probe data feed. Aye, Sir. On screen now.”

 

The screen image altered to show the transmission from the integrated probe camera as the device launched. The re-purposed probe shot through the blackness of space, covering the distance to the mist. It disappeared into the barrier and…

 

…nothing happened. The data visuals went dark.

 

Commander JoNs winged a silent look of question towards her second shift Science officer; the Centauran male shook his head in the negative, confirming that no data flow was in transmission to either ship.

 

The 2nd XO’s voice was quiet, but carried on the silent bridge. “Oops.”

 

The COMM officer spoke. “Commander. Captain Calestorm is asking for you on the wireless regarding the picket line.” A wry smile played on his lips. “Her accents a little noticeable, doesn’t sound very thrilled.”

 

Preliminary plans for the Washingtons Crossing to maintain a picket line about the barrier had already been discussed as a fall back plan. The Caitian was already moving as she acknowledged the request, giving the man a jaunty salute with a paw. “Petty Officer, I’ve no doubt. I’ll take it at the auxiliary station, thank you.”

 

(TBC In Sim)