05-06-2026, 02:21 AM
The doors to the Ready Room hissed open, and Commander Ameen stepped out onto the Bridge. He had caught the entirety of the conversation over the open comm channel Powl had established, and a wry, appreciative smile touched the corners of his mouth.
"That won't be necessary, Petty Officer Molina. I heard everything," Ameen said smoothly, descending into the command well and taking the center chair.
He looked between his Vulcan tactical officer, his Security Chief, and his Chief Science Officer. He had to hand it to Torok—using pure, undeniable Vulcan logic to find a procedural loophole that bought them more time was a masterful move.
"Lieutenant Powl, your assessment of our... precarious power situation is incredibly astute," Ameen said, his tone perfectly matching the Vulcan's formal professionalism, though his eyes gleamed with approval. "Given the massive power draw of the alien stasis pods, and the absolute necessity of maintaining the structural integrity of this aged vessel, it would be highly irresponsible of us to stress our engines right now. Drop our speed to Warp One. We wouldn't want to risk a ship-wide power failure before our heavily armed escort arrives."
Ameen then shifted his gaze to Gath, his expression settling into one of firm resolve. "Lieutenant Gath is entirely correct. Starfleet Command ordered us to prepare the cargo for transfer; they did not explicitly order us to cease our investigations. Handing over twelve genetically engineered soldiers to a science vessel without knowing how to communicate with them, or how they react to waking up, is a tactical disaster waiting to happen. We are going to give Command a fully assessed package."
He turned to Amila. While his posture remained the picture of Starfleet authority, the rigid lines of his expression softened just a fraction as his eyes met hers. It was a fleeting, quiet moment of reassurance—a subtle tether between them hidden behind the veil of duty.
"Lieutenant Ra'an, get down to the Science Lab and lock down that Faraday cage with Midshipman A'kilees," Ameen instructed, his tone losing its commanding edge just enough to carry a note of personal warmth. "Be careful when you open that module. Let's see what you and your team can find."
He looked around the Bridge one last time, addressing the room at large. "Lieutenant Gath, proceed to the Holodeck and coordinate the pod transfer with Sickbay. The intercepting ships are officially on our long-range scopes, which means our clock is ticking... but thanks to Mister Powl, we just bought ourselves a little more breathing room to do this right. Let's get to work."
"That won't be necessary, Petty Officer Molina. I heard everything," Ameen said smoothly, descending into the command well and taking the center chair.
He looked between his Vulcan tactical officer, his Security Chief, and his Chief Science Officer. He had to hand it to Torok—using pure, undeniable Vulcan logic to find a procedural loophole that bought them more time was a masterful move.
"Lieutenant Powl, your assessment of our... precarious power situation is incredibly astute," Ameen said, his tone perfectly matching the Vulcan's formal professionalism, though his eyes gleamed with approval. "Given the massive power draw of the alien stasis pods, and the absolute necessity of maintaining the structural integrity of this aged vessel, it would be highly irresponsible of us to stress our engines right now. Drop our speed to Warp One. We wouldn't want to risk a ship-wide power failure before our heavily armed escort arrives."
Ameen then shifted his gaze to Gath, his expression settling into one of firm resolve. "Lieutenant Gath is entirely correct. Starfleet Command ordered us to prepare the cargo for transfer; they did not explicitly order us to cease our investigations. Handing over twelve genetically engineered soldiers to a science vessel without knowing how to communicate with them, or how they react to waking up, is a tactical disaster waiting to happen. We are going to give Command a fully assessed package."
He turned to Amila. While his posture remained the picture of Starfleet authority, the rigid lines of his expression softened just a fraction as his eyes met hers. It was a fleeting, quiet moment of reassurance—a subtle tether between them hidden behind the veil of duty.
"Lieutenant Ra'an, get down to the Science Lab and lock down that Faraday cage with Midshipman A'kilees," Ameen instructed, his tone losing its commanding edge just enough to carry a note of personal warmth. "Be careful when you open that module. Let's see what you and your team can find."
He looked around the Bridge one last time, addressing the room at large. "Lieutenant Gath, proceed to the Holodeck and coordinate the pod transfer with Sickbay. The intercepting ships are officially on our long-range scopes, which means our clock is ticking... but thanks to Mister Powl, we just bought ourselves a little more breathing room to do this right. Let's get to work."