10-25-2025, 01:28 PM
The tremor from the tetryon-gatling strike had faded, leaving the Bridge dimly lit in red alert. Panels flickered unevenly, the hum of overloaded circuits thrumming beneath her boots. Sensor grids remained dark, nav displays fractured; the Tusslebout’s impact had left the Yeager temporarily blind. Riley’s eyes moved from console to console, noting the faint residual indicators still trying to stabilize, a reminder that even in chaos, small signs could guide her next action. Every flicker and hum was a cue she committed to memory, preparing for the moment she might be called to act.
Riley leaned lightly against the Science rail, PADD cradled in one hand, the other brushing the console for balance. Commander Qi had tried to relay the anomaly status and residual distortions just before the strike, but the blackout had cut the clarity of his report. She absorbed what she could, noting the gaps and uncertainties in her mind—what she didn’t yet know could matter just as much as what she did. Her grip tightened slightly on the PADD, a quiet anchor against the tension threading the Bridge, and she reminded herself that her role was not just observation—she was ready to move, wherever she might be needed.
Fingers moving with practiced precision, she sent a report to Security:
[Wright to Chief d’Tor’an / Security: Impact confirmed from the Tusslebout. Nav and sensors offline. Commander Qi reconstructing manually; Mendoza analyzing weapon residue. Standing by for updates and further directives.]
The message pinged out, and she lowered the PADD slightly, eyes tracking the faint flicker of the forward displays. Static still mottled the readings, revealing only fragments of Qi’s attempted reconstruction. She could see that work had begun—but the results, she realized, were still unknown. A small sigh escaped her, not of frustration but acknowledgment: the Bridge required patience as much as vigilance. She flexed her fingers lightly, ready to lend assistance to anyone nearby if the need arose.
Step by step. One observation at a time. She flexed her fingers over the PADD, letting the mantra steady her focus. Every tremor through the deck, every flicker of light, every spike in residual energy was a cue she cataloged carefully. She allowed her mind to drift briefly to the cadet drills that had honed this attention to minute detail—lessons that now kept her grounded in real danger. She reminded herself she was a trained officer, tasked with more than reporting; if any Bridge personnel required support, she would respond without hesitation.
Her stance remained alert but unobtrusive, keeping Science personnel clear while maintaining a vantage point to respond if internal alerts spiked. Security wasn’t just about reacting—it was about anticipating and watching for what the ship itself might reveal next. She adjusted her balance, letting the subtle sway of the Yeager under stress remind her of the ship’s living rhythm, and of the importance of staying present to every signal. Every motion, every observation, every small adjustment to her posture was preparation for action should the Bridge need her.
Holding… for now. Riley allowed herself a small inhale of controlled calm, her eyes forward, mind alert, body ready. She would wait for updates from Security, but she would also respond immediately to any call for assistance on the Bridge. In that moment, even amid fractured displays and silence between alerts, she felt the familiar weight of responsibility settle comfortably on her shoulders—like a suit of armor she had earned.
Riley leaned lightly against the Science rail, PADD cradled in one hand, the other brushing the console for balance. Commander Qi had tried to relay the anomaly status and residual distortions just before the strike, but the blackout had cut the clarity of his report. She absorbed what she could, noting the gaps and uncertainties in her mind—what she didn’t yet know could matter just as much as what she did. Her grip tightened slightly on the PADD, a quiet anchor against the tension threading the Bridge, and she reminded herself that her role was not just observation—she was ready to move, wherever she might be needed.
Fingers moving with practiced precision, she sent a report to Security:
[Wright to Chief d’Tor’an / Security: Impact confirmed from the Tusslebout. Nav and sensors offline. Commander Qi reconstructing manually; Mendoza analyzing weapon residue. Standing by for updates and further directives.]
The message pinged out, and she lowered the PADD slightly, eyes tracking the faint flicker of the forward displays. Static still mottled the readings, revealing only fragments of Qi’s attempted reconstruction. She could see that work had begun—but the results, she realized, were still unknown. A small sigh escaped her, not of frustration but acknowledgment: the Bridge required patience as much as vigilance. She flexed her fingers lightly, ready to lend assistance to anyone nearby if the need arose.
Step by step. One observation at a time. She flexed her fingers over the PADD, letting the mantra steady her focus. Every tremor through the deck, every flicker of light, every spike in residual energy was a cue she cataloged carefully. She allowed her mind to drift briefly to the cadet drills that had honed this attention to minute detail—lessons that now kept her grounded in real danger. She reminded herself she was a trained officer, tasked with more than reporting; if any Bridge personnel required support, she would respond without hesitation.
Her stance remained alert but unobtrusive, keeping Science personnel clear while maintaining a vantage point to respond if internal alerts spiked. Security wasn’t just about reacting—it was about anticipating and watching for what the ship itself might reveal next. She adjusted her balance, letting the subtle sway of the Yeager under stress remind her of the ship’s living rhythm, and of the importance of staying present to every signal. Every motion, every observation, every small adjustment to her posture was preparation for action should the Bridge need her.
Holding… for now. Riley allowed herself a small inhale of controlled calm, her eyes forward, mind alert, body ready. She would wait for updates from Security, but she would also respond immediately to any call for assistance on the Bridge. In that moment, even amid fractured displays and silence between alerts, she felt the familiar weight of responsibility settle comfortably on her shoulders—like a suit of armor she had earned.