01-20-2026, 05:59 PM
== Impulse Deck ==
Riley had just started to work the hatch again—just enough pressure to make the metal complain—when she felt the footfalls behind her. Heavy. Measured. The kind you didn’t ignore.
Then the voice came, deep enough that it seemed to settle into the bulkheads.
“Wait! The engines are still on! You'll flood the deck with engine radiation if you try to get inside of there.”
Riley stopped like she’d hit a wall. One knee still close to the deckplate, shoulder angled toward the gap she’d been about to slip through. For half a second her body wanted to keep going anyway—because she’d finally had a direction, because she’d already volunteered, because she’d already made the decision in her head.
Then the word radiation landed properly and her stomach turned over.
Her grip stayed tight, but she didn’t raise the phaser. There wasn’t anything to aim at. Just a hazard you couldn’t see, couldn’t outshoot, couldn’t argue with.
She looked back, and the corridor was basically filled by Commander Jadaris. Engineering colors, a Gorn’s silhouette—impossible to mistake. The urge to bristle came and went in the same breath. Not because she didn’t hate being stopped, but because she could hear how close she’d been to doing something catastrophically dumb.
Riley eased away from the opening, careful not to bump the seam or drag her hands across anything Crescent might need to scan again. Her pulse was loud in her ears, and it wasn’t just fear—it was irritation, too, that she’d been so locked in on the hatch that she hadn’t even thought about what sat on the other side of it.
If Tomer wanted us to screw this up, he couldn’t have asked for better.
Jadaris barked an order. The computer answered in its calm, unbothered tone, and a moment later the corridor filled with the rising whine of a field coming online. A shimmer snapped into place over the hatch—clean and final.
Riley straightened slowly and backed off, giving the barrier space. The field didn’t care how badly she wanted that lead. It just was.
Her jaw clenched anyway. Not at Jadaris—at the situation. At the timing. At the fact that the first thing that felt solid had just been sealed behind a glowing “no.”
“Commander,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “Crescent pulled Trill DNA off that hatch. If it’s Tomer, odds are he either came through this tube or went into it.”
She took a breath, then tried again—less sharp, more practical. “I’m not stepping into engine radiation. I’m not trying to be a martyr.” A beat, honest. “But I don’t want to walk away from this and find out later we let him slip right past us.”
Riley flicked a glance at Crescent—quick, just to make sure she was still there with her—then looked back to Jadaris. “Is there a safe way to at least look? A probe, a shielded scan, another access point… anything you’d recommend so we’re not blind here.”
Another step back put a little more distance between her and the shimmering field. If it dropped, she wasn’t lunging forward. No part of her wanted to be that story.
The phaser in her hand suddenly felt like the wrong tool for the problem anyway. Riley reholstered it, slow and deliberate, and kept her hands free.
Ready to follow whatever solution Engineering gave them.
And ready to keep searching if this lead stayed closed.
== Tags ==
Riley had just started to work the hatch again—just enough pressure to make the metal complain—when she felt the footfalls behind her. Heavy. Measured. The kind you didn’t ignore.
Then the voice came, deep enough that it seemed to settle into the bulkheads.
“Wait! The engines are still on! You'll flood the deck with engine radiation if you try to get inside of there.”
Riley stopped like she’d hit a wall. One knee still close to the deckplate, shoulder angled toward the gap she’d been about to slip through. For half a second her body wanted to keep going anyway—because she’d finally had a direction, because she’d already volunteered, because she’d already made the decision in her head.
Then the word radiation landed properly and her stomach turned over.
Her grip stayed tight, but she didn’t raise the phaser. There wasn’t anything to aim at. Just a hazard you couldn’t see, couldn’t outshoot, couldn’t argue with.
She looked back, and the corridor was basically filled by Commander Jadaris. Engineering colors, a Gorn’s silhouette—impossible to mistake. The urge to bristle came and went in the same breath. Not because she didn’t hate being stopped, but because she could hear how close she’d been to doing something catastrophically dumb.
Riley eased away from the opening, careful not to bump the seam or drag her hands across anything Crescent might need to scan again. Her pulse was loud in her ears, and it wasn’t just fear—it was irritation, too, that she’d been so locked in on the hatch that she hadn’t even thought about what sat on the other side of it.
If Tomer wanted us to screw this up, he couldn’t have asked for better.
Jadaris barked an order. The computer answered in its calm, unbothered tone, and a moment later the corridor filled with the rising whine of a field coming online. A shimmer snapped into place over the hatch—clean and final.
Riley straightened slowly and backed off, giving the barrier space. The field didn’t care how badly she wanted that lead. It just was.
Her jaw clenched anyway. Not at Jadaris—at the situation. At the timing. At the fact that the first thing that felt solid had just been sealed behind a glowing “no.”
“Commander,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “Crescent pulled Trill DNA off that hatch. If it’s Tomer, odds are he either came through this tube or went into it.”
She took a breath, then tried again—less sharp, more practical. “I’m not stepping into engine radiation. I’m not trying to be a martyr.” A beat, honest. “But I don’t want to walk away from this and find out later we let him slip right past us.”
Riley flicked a glance at Crescent—quick, just to make sure she was still there with her—then looked back to Jadaris. “Is there a safe way to at least look? A probe, a shielded scan, another access point… anything you’d recommend so we’re not blind here.”
Another step back put a little more distance between her and the shimmering field. If it dropped, she wasn’t lunging forward. No part of her wanted to be that story.
The phaser in her hand suddenly felt like the wrong tool for the problem anyway. Riley reholstered it, slow and deliberate, and kept her hands free.
Ready to follow whatever solution Engineering gave them.
And ready to keep searching if this lead stayed closed.
== Tags ==