The Orinoco

Posted on Sun Apr 2nd, 2023 @ 4:20am by Commander Qillin Wren

694 words; about a 3 minute read

USS Orinoco
Three weeks ago
Wren quarters

“For the last time, Katie, I told you no,” notoriously soft-spoken, Qillin shouted in complete agitation. “Now, get out of here before I call security and have you removed.” He grabbed a rag to wipe up the spill seeping into the carpet. The dark liquid dripped down his arms and soaked into his loose night clothes. He had come from the shower right before Katie showed up, and to the shower he would have to return as soon as he could get her to leave.

Katie crossed her arms, pouting. Her freckled nose wrinkled in disgust. “I just don’t understand why you are being like this. I thought you loved me and I’ve done everything for you. You can’t just throw this all away like none of it ever mattered.”

“Yeah,” Qillin questioned with one, short nod of his head as he threw the towel down. He stood up so he could look her in the eye. “And I once thought you were worthy of love. But I didn’t divorce you on a whim. Get. Out.” He emphasized his message with a finger pointed at the exit.

Katie looked like she had something else to say, then turned on her heel. The doors to the corridor didn’t open fast enough for her and she kicked them in frustration as she left, leaving scuff marks across them. Though, in short order, no one would be left to notice the boot streaks.

Qillin pulled at his wet hair, watching her leave. His breath was caught in his lungs as he repressed the scream which ached to vent. He didn’t hear Tetayn at the door behind him, though he felt her eyes on him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so loud,” he turned to see his sister; concerned and bedraggled. “Go back to bed, I can clean up. Everything is fine here.”

It wasn’t fine. Alert klaxons blared moments after the ship violently shook and every light turned red. “Red alert! All hands to battle stations!” the call came through the ship’s speakers. Main power flickered when the next attack hit. The Wrens picked themselves up from the floor. Qillin moved to his workstation to see what the first reports would say, looking to see where he would be most needed.

“Stay here,” he started to instruct his sister, then changed his mind. “Stay close to me,” he corrected and they ran from the room. The shaking of the ship didn’t stop and the run down a straight corridor was interrupted with jolts that sent the crew of the Orinoco flying and crashing to the ground, into each other as if they were in a child’s birthday party bounce house.

Eventually, Qillin was sliding down the banister into main engineering’s hub. Bodies were strewn about the floor. Some moved, trying to return to their repairs. Others were still. Just as Qillin readied himself to take over in the chaos, the blast doors dropped around the warp core. They dropped without warning, dooming any crew within to certain death while the call to abandon ship joined the cacophony of the klaxons.

He could fix it. Those were his thoughts. He could fix it, given time, supplies, his wonderful crew and... a miracle. But, with great reluctance, he allowed himself to be dragged from the engine room he had called home for years. Without a chance to say good-bye to the crew he loved, he found himself running again, the crowd thinned.

“Here, here...” Tetayn and Patterson guided him into an escape pod. His ears wrang as time slowed and his vision faded.

He came to later, finding himself in an escape pod and unable to remember how he had gotten there. He sat up from his curled position on the floor. His vision cleared slowly and Tetayn helped him back to the floor. She pressed a fresh cold pack from the first aid kit to his head. “The tricorder says you’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“What about you?” he croaked.

She shrugged, “Just a scratch.”

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