[Galaxy] 2161.10.23 - CO's DL - Spearling - "Aftermath, Pt 1"

[Anna H.]

//  Challenger Bridge  \\
 
 
When the shockwave hit, Captain Sasha Spearling was gripping the arms of the captain's chair, glaring at the approaching wave as it roiled toward the ship.  Even though she gripped the chair with every ounce of strength in her hands, she was still thrown out of it, first flying forward faster than she could think.  Sparks erupted around the entire bridge, everything went dark until the emergency lighting flickered on weakly.  As this happened, Sasha grabbed hold of the base of the Helmsman's chair, rolling to it from where she'd hit the deck.  Then the ship seemed to spin -- or maybe she'd hit her head -- whichever, she lost her grip and went sliding across the deck, barely missing getting clocked by a piece of the ceiling paneling that fell with a crash to the flooring.  She slammed into the small step that led up to the tactical console and heard more than felt a rib or two snap.  A short scream was forced out of her lips as another ceiling panel fell and landed on her foot.  
 
Then it was over.  Moans, the crackling of sparks, the creaking of hanging ceiling panels, the buzzing that was coming from the COMMs system.  Sasha struggled to her knees, then to her feet.  "S-status report! I need a status report!"
 
There were muffled responses around the Bridge.  She could hardly see through the smoke, smoke that was being lit garishly by the emergency lighting and the flashing sparks.  
 
Sasha was a bit muddled, and blood flew as she shook her head to clear it.  Where was Chris? He wasn't at his post.  She called out, "Chris!"
 
"He's ... he's over here, ma'am," Cinda Zhang answered, sounding a bit dazed herself.  She was surprisingly uninjured, just white as a sheet and looking scared.  "H-he came flying back this way ... he hit the instrument panel ...."
 
Sasha limped closer, stepping around the debris.  "Chris!"  She approached the prone man, a worried frown crossing her features as she noted the blood running down his neck.  "...Chris!! Report!!"

Sasha was standing right beside him yelling for his attention. He suddenly realized she had been calling out to him repeatedly in his disorientation. "Um... it's uh... Comms down here..." he stammered groggily.

"Collect yourself and go check the conduits, Commander." Her voice sounded distant and hollow due to the ruptured ear drum. He felt like he was underwater.

"Yes... Aye, Captain..."

If he could talk and move, he was good enough to go.  That was Sasha's game plan -- at the moment, anyway.  She watched as he drug himself to his feet, with assistance from Cinda.  She eyeballed him as he went to the turbolift, tried it, and gave it up as lost.  He disappeared through the smoke, stumbling back past the COMMs station and to the access corridor that led to the portside vertical access hatch.
 
Flames erupted from the helm.  From starboard, Sasha heard Hannah's cry of dismay.  "Fire control! We've got to get these hotspots out!" Sasha shouted.  Cara appeared out of the smoke, holding a fire extinquisher.  
 
"Took care of the fire back in Ops," she said.  Her right eye was swollen shut, and there was blood, but she seemed to be mostly all right.  She directed the fire spray at the helm console and soon had things under control.
 
The next few minutes were filled with damage control, status reports, getting the injured to Sickbay, and trying to recover as much ship's function as possible.  Sasha was relieved when the COMMs gave a staticky whine, followed by some clicks, then more static -- which then cleared somewhat so that Chris' voice could be heard.  He sounded tired.  

=/\= "Captain, we've got internal comms again. Meridian sounds...mostly intact...limping by at impulse... Whispering Death is safe and offering assistance... All warp capable fleet vessels are reporting in safe. They're tracking down and accounting for all the damaged vessels."  =/\=
 
Sasha limped over to the COMMs station and pressed the button.  She'd noticed that her chair was, for all purposes besides just /sitting/, dead.  "Good work, Chris.  Do you or your team need to get to Sickbay?" He responded that they'd already sent the most seriously wounded, and that the rest of them would get there when the work was done.
 
Hannah was back at the helm.  She was battered and bruised and had wrapped a piece of her uniform around her right arm, where a piece of flying metal had pierced her flesh.  Sasha looked at her.  "Hannah ... what have we got for movement?"
 
"It looks like we've got impulse, ma'am, but I don't know about the warp drive."
 
"Nothing from Engineering yet?"
 
"No, ma'am," she replied.
 
"I'm going down there.  Commander Nelson-Samad, you have the conn.  Get us back up and running again, and best speed back to Cheron.  We have to check for survivors."
 
Sasha limped over to the same access corridor that Chris had taken -- since his obvious success at using it meant it was clear.  She stopped at the doorway to look back.  The smoke was clearing, Cara was over at the Engineering console, Hannah was working her console, and Vic was underneath his, checking some problem with TAC.  She turned a sharp eye on Cinda.  "Any sign of a Romulan on the sensors -- when you get them back up -- and I want to know yesterday."
 
"Yes, ma'am."  She was looking behind her, where T'Lara labored at the portside SCI instruments.  It didn't look good.
 
But we made it, Sasha thought.  We made it.  Now ... how many others made it with us?
 
 
Captain Sasha Spearling
Commanding Officer
FCL-04 Challenger
 
<borrowed from Josh's recent Chris log>
<NPC's apb Anna, PCs borrowed with respect> 		 	   		  
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