Beneath the Static

Posted on Sun May 25th, 2025 @ 9:22am by Lieutenant Alexis Ryan & Lieutenant Didrea Zade

Mission: Pandora's Box
Location: Sickbay, USS Athena
Timeline: Evening, MD06
2426 words - 4.9 OF Standard Post Measure

"I know a Vulcan who'd have words to say about his prize student's ability to duck and weave right now."

As soon as she'd walked through the doors, Alexis had realised she'd barely set foot in Athena's sickbay since arriving. This would generally have been considered a good thing, though there were aspects to the confession that probably warranted a rap over the knuckles given the technicalities of her clearance conditions and the fact she was supposed to be getting regular eyesight evaluations. There had been occasions; radiated environments and traipsing through Gorn-infested compounds sprang to mind, but overall, she'd successfully avoided any need to be confined to a sickbed for any length of time. She'd been there once; no desire for a return visit.

Her own success notwithstanding, past experience did lend the Science Chief an air of sympathy despite her ribbing. Having done her best not to roll her eyes through the standard lecture about staying too long and vexing the patient, which was hilarious given the high likelihood that Zade's stress levels were elevated enough by stagnation to begin with, Ryan eased herself to sit precariously on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle, and offered the Trill a wry smile. "But who's going to tell him, right?"

Despite a rather energy-consuming day, largely consisting of at least four separate visits by others, Zade actually cracked a real smile at Ryan's entrance. Everyone else had been there either for information she didn't have or to smother her with sympathy, and while the jury wasn't out on this visit, it was already different than the others. The Trill was sitting up, a tray of some poorly picked-at food on her lap. With some convincing, she had successfully requested a more comfortable shirt and shorts from her quarters to replace the Sickbay-issued 'prison attire', but the blanket was still the true preservation of her dignity. "I doubt Sorel would be surprised," Zade answered.

A squint of consideration bought Alexis time to form a very rudimentary preliminary assessment. She's alive, has her wits, and is frustrated as hell. Every single point was a step in the right direction, and might even alleviate the niggle of guilt when the time came to stave off any doubt that this was a partial-business call. It didn't matter that it was more the fault of timing than intent. If Alex was honest, she probably wouldn't have found it as easy to check in otherwise, defaulting to the assumption that having to put on a cheerful face for all and sundry was more of a burden than something Zade would have thanked her for.

"At least his expression wouldn't have changed much either way." Her smile wasn't forced at least, and unlike some who might have tiptoed around the Security Chief's uncharacteristic frailty, Ryan scrutinised the woman directly for a moment before adding, "There are better ways to get room service, you know."

A short, closed-lipped huff indicated Zade's amusement at the comment about Sorel. She glanced down at the tray, deciding that she wasn't really hungry at the moment for fruit and a sandwich. Carefully, she leaned over to set it on the makeshift bedside table, which was a repurposed rolling cart that would otherwise have presented medical supplies. A brief tightening of her lips was the only indication of discomfort, but soon enough she settled back into place. "That bar is low, and I still found a way under it." The prior visits usually pivoted toward her own well-being by this point, and she'd rather have a meaningful conversation than fielding the same delicate questions. She was unsure if Ryan would steer that way, but the Trill didn't care to leave it to fate this time. "How are things going? The last reports I saw indicated that the raiders had backed off, at least for now."

Alexis valued intuition. Not only did it take the need for diplomacy out of the equation, which was a relief sometimes because that was an acquired skill and not nearly something that came as effortlessly as people assumed, but it was usually the result of experience. By a certain point, if that hadn't broken a person, it usually made them a damn sight more reliable than a dozen sensor sweeps. She dipped her head, an indication of partial agreement, though moved quickly to add context.

"It's a lot quieter than I'd say is worthy relaxing over." The PADD in her hands, thus far little more than an insignificant prop, rattled slightly as the scientist tapped it against her fingertips. "Kozlov's team hasn't reported in. The relay network seems to think it's working just fine but all it spits back at us is static and old transmissions on loop. We think," she added, watching Zade for a moment. "Got time to listen to a few?"

The twinkle in her eyes made it obvious the jest was intended.

The Trill certainly wouldn't turn down an opportunity to do something other than staring at the sterile walls. The only issue was that she was technically on medical leave; it took convincing just to be able to stay updated by reading reports. She wasn't supposed to be working, but merely listening to a transmission that someone else happened to be playing within earshot surely didn't count. Tilting her head slightly to look past her present company, she scanned the area for medical staff, only to find the immediate vicinity absent of that particular shade of teal. "I'm sure I can find time," she responded, relieved to have something to do.

There was hesitation, at first, and thought Zade's reservation was for valid reasons, they weren't the culprit behind Alex's introspection. When it came down to it, she didn't have a lot of choice. Decisions were about to be made on the basis of a significant amount of extrapolation. First-hand corroboration was invaluable, particularly if Zade was able to pick up any discrepancies.

"Captain Lance and I managed to pull some broken comms from the last transmission the network packaged. I've only been able to verify one of them because most seem either to have come from internal communications or incomplete transmissions that never landed."

Extending the PADD towards the Trill, Ryan's expression was suddenly controlled by a more typical professional stoicism, marred only by a hint of something in her eyes. Each excerpt was its own separate file, lined up in a neat stack.

"The first is likely Kozlov, so start with the second."

For a brief moment, the weight of the PADD in Zade's hand forced some unexpected uncertainty to the surface. The files likely had clues hinting toward what happened, but after Savin's insistence that her own mind was protecting her, was this actually a good idea? Remembering that the biobed was happily displaying her pulse and breathing, among other things, in a way that was unavoidable, Zade refocused and played through each file.

"The second one was shortly after we had transported down," Zade answered, immediately recognising her own voice. There was a pause as she listened to the third recording before she shook her head. It certainly wasn't one of the security teams. "Fourth is confirmation from Ensign Stef that the Spruance team transported to the surface. That happened before the second recording."

The fifth recording made Zade tense, a knot settling into her stomach. It was difficult to hear through the static, but it sounded like Mason, and he was panicked. Was this after the explosion? She listened again, straining to identify any other situational clues in the background, and perhaps even an attempt to trigger the memory that remained firmly out of her reach. To her frustration, all she could identify was his voice. "That's Mason's voice, but I don't have any memory of when he might have said this."

That left the last file. It was probably the hardest to identify due to the distortion, but once it dawned on her who she was listening to, her breath caught in her throat. These were some of his last words. As much as Iska's death hurt, she made herself listen a couple more times, trying to find information that just wasn't there. The call declaring an active trigger should have churned up something. She should have remembered seeing the device that set off the explosions, yet the information recall became increasingly difficult the closer she tried to get to the moment of the explosion. "That's Ensign Iska," she quietly said, acutely aware of the monitor above her happily announcing her unease to what felt like the entire ship. "The first part, about movement, is when we were chasing down raiders..." The I think didn't need to be tacked onto the end of the sentence when her body language did it for her. How could she not remember this?

In the end, the only support Alexis had to offer was the benefit of her full attention. The gentle placement of an unwavering gaze, an unhurried lack of expectation, and the willingness to just sit and wait. Interruption would have been unkind, and whilst platitudes had their time and place, neither of which resembled being trapped on a biobed with an entire medical staff bearing down on you. When the time came, which presented itself as an opportunity before any passing staff noticed the fluctuations in Zade's bio-readings, Alex leaned forward to reclaim the PADD and tucked it discreetly beneath her bent leg to spare them both the frustration of being chastised for understanding the necessity of risk.

"There's no time stamps on any of it. The transmission itself was so garbled, we couldn't get much more than this out of it. Sequencing does seem to be an issue." The conversation was factual but not emotionally dismissive. Ryan's tone carried just enough regret to convey mutual remorse without wallowing in it. This wasn't her grief to covet, after all. "Confirmation is helpful, even if we can't pinpoint a timeline."

The Science Chief frowned, just the faintest tensing as she studied Zade's posture.

"I can get you a copy of the transmission." She left the source of her perception unspoken. "It might not be possible to isolate anything else amongst the static but it'll be tedious enough to help you skip the sleeping meds at least."

The feeling of the PADD being swiped from Zade's hands was probably a decent physical representation of what it was like trying to access her memories. "Maybe send it to my quarters. If things continue to improve, then the doctor said I might be able to get out of here and take it easy with a little more privacy." Her gaze drifted to the PADD hiding under the science chief's legs, "so what are you going to do with that information? It seems like something weird with the relay network, but if you confirmed it's working then... could it have something to do with the wreckage's hull? Like it's creating noise in the transmissions?"

On at least some level, Alex was very aware that, so far, she'd given this crew the impression that she was basically a fan of rules. There had been a blip, perhaps, where she'd brought in Maquis strategy, and those in her department who got to work closely with her were probably starting to develop at least some sort of secondary opinion, but overall she had left any boat she'd been a part of relatively unrocked. A glance over her shoulder to gauge those in earshot was a deviation, a sidestep, because the officer in front of her was currently on strict medical leave and Ryan had already stretched the limits of what could be justified as important enough to encroach.

She quietly scootched a little closer.

"The graviton readings are through the roof. On the way to being triple what Starfleet registered in their first report. Something's going on down there, we've lost transporter lock."

Alex met Zade's gaze directly. The woman was still Head of Security, she deserved to know that more of them were about to be deployed, at the risk of further inability to remain in contact, because Ryan had faith that Kane wasn't going to abandon anyone to an unstable wreck without a fight. More to the point, unable to finish the job herself, it wouldn't hurt to remind the Trill she had backup. They'd sent security with Kozlov's team. Alex intended to bring them all home.

"Whatever else you're able to clear up will at least give us a better idea of what's gone on." The inclusion of us was further kindness. Slipping from the bed to rise, Alex picked up the PADD with indifference meant for prying eyes and smiled away the last vestiges of an unspoken conversation running just beneath the surface. "Save some of the fruit basket for me once I'm back, I've been known to bust people out of house arrest before, we'll just tell them its occupational therapy."

Zade's eyes widened slightly at the implication, her tactical mind able to read between the lines that Alexis left for her. As much as she wanted to dive in --or even more importantly, join them-- there was no way any sort of physical response could escape the consequence of pain and a stern talking to by the medical staff. She hated it, but sitting this one out was the only viable option. "I can try. How soon do you need it?"

The hunch of a shoulder conveyed Ryan's best guess as to how long extraction would actually take. "Lance's findings will be enough to act on for now so take your time." The slight irony of the phrase wasn't lost on the scientist, who was about to embark on the least comfortable game of 'dodge the temporal distortion' she could think of.

A nod accompanied Zade's only response: "Be safe." She knew enough of Ryan's skill to know she'd be perfectly capable, and the unique combination of science and tactical expertise would benefit their mission.

The sentiment, earning a tired huff of laughter for its optimism, remained unchallenged as Ryan flipped the bed-ridden Security Chief a mock salute and then intentionally clocked each of the medical staff before taking her leave. If the universe decided to cooperate for once, they'd avoid giving Didrea any roommates and be back before breakfast.

Then again, when had the universe ever played nice.