Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2014 10:24:42 GMT -8
After ensuring that all matters in both Sickbays were under control and no intense surgery cases were pending, Sig took the PADD from his desk and retreated to the mess hall. Pouring himself two cups of coffee, he carried the device under his arm until he arrived at the table and carefully placed the elixer of the gods onto its surface. Sitting down, he took a long sip from one of the mugs and looked around. The place was pretty empty, what with all the engineers and support staff trying to fix up the ship or solve a thousand other problems.
Laying the PADD on the table, he tapped it with a free hand, ready now to read the message that had come to him just before the ship left on its rescue mission. Non-urgent, from Starfleet Command. Usually, these were just informative memos or requests for information that was not time sensitive. So, when Sig started reading, he was in no way prepared for what the small device contained. The initial shock caused him to lose his grip on the mug, sending it noisily to the table and spilling hot coffee everywhere.
"Damn it," he grumbled as he tried to grab after it, and only succeeding to slightly singe his fingertips. He wiped the wetness on his trousers and stood up quickly, looking around for a towel, one of which was hurriedly shoved toward him from a helpful member of the crew.
"Everything okay, Commander?"
Sig looked from the towel to the crew member and shook his head. "It's okay," he replied. "And thanks." Slowly, methodically, he began wiping up the coffee, though his mind was elsewhere.
Tiria was alive.
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Laying the PADD on the table, he tapped it with a free hand, ready now to read the message that had come to him just before the ship left on its rescue mission. Non-urgent, from Starfleet Command. Usually, these were just informative memos or requests for information that was not time sensitive. So, when Sig started reading, he was in no way prepared for what the small device contained. The initial shock caused him to lose his grip on the mug, sending it noisily to the table and spilling hot coffee everywhere.
"Damn it," he grumbled as he tried to grab after it, and only succeeding to slightly singe his fingertips. He wiped the wetness on his trousers and stood up quickly, looking around for a towel, one of which was hurriedly shoved toward him from a helpful member of the crew.
"Everything okay, Commander?"
Sig looked from the towel to the crew member and shook his head. "It's okay," he replied. "And thanks." Slowly, methodically, he began wiping up the coffee, though his mind was elsewhere.
Tiria was alive.
Tag Any