A/N: I was really excited about this chapter and am even more excited about chapter 22 (I'm about 1/4 of the way through it now). Thank you all for the support!
STARDATE 2260.151
Beta Quadrant
Her breakfast partner was talkative, his excitement infectious as ever. Scotty babbled on about a recent discovery, technical words flying above her head faster than she could even begin to comprehend their meaning. Amelia nodded and smiled, tossing in a few wows once in a while. It took him almost five minutes before he stopped and stared at her.
"You don'na understand a thing I just said do ya, lass?"
Caught at her ignorance, Amelia just smiled and gave him an apologetic shrug. "Not a chance. But it sounded good."
"Let's just say I made my seeds go twice as fast." Her brow shot up, a smirk forming at his choice of words. Scotty just scowled and grumbled at her, "Eh, you know what I mean."
Trying to make up for her obvious lack of knowledge, she asked, "So when do you get to enhance the, uh, warp core?"
Scotty perked back up at the question, making her feel a little better. She could almost see his mind working, calculating the upgrades and mentally picturing the finished product. "A couple of months. We just need some supplies."
A couple of months? "And where do you get supplies in the middle of nowhere?"
"Andorian space station. We should intercept in 45 days or so."
Amelia released a small huff of mock irritation. "Why don't I ever get to know where we're going?"
"You could ask. Or go to the observation deck and pull up the navigation map." Scotty's grin caused one of her own to form.
"Yeah and then I could get a degree in star charting." They shared a laugh. "I'll just assume you'll let me know if it's important."
She used the quick break in conversation to finish eating her eggs. "So... you plan on tellin' me 'bout McCoy?" Yolk and white caught in her throat at his unexpected question, her wide eyes focused on him as she coughed.
Acting nonchalant was out of the question, not with the way Scotty was staring at her after her coughing fit. Somehow she managed to ask, "What about him?"
"Ah, come on, lass. Bones been a mite sensitive on the subject of you." Based on the way he was still staring at her, she had the feeling he was forming the same opinion about her.
Amelia set her fork down, tapping her fingers against the table. "One, how do you know this? And two, why is the subject of me even coming up?"
"Command staff meeting. Mr. Spock wanted to discuss your sponsorship with the Captain." Right. That made sense considering that he was the Chief Engineer.
Oh. "I see."
"Well. Go on," Scotty pushed.
She couldn't help the blush that spread across her face. "It's... personal."
She heard more than saw Scotty gasp, then he leaned in closer as his voice dropped to ask, "Are you shagging the doctor? And ya did'na think to tell me?"
"No! What? No." A quick glance at his face told her that he didn't believe her for a second. "I am not shagging McCoy."
Scotty made a tsking noise, pointing his finger at her in accusation. "Maybe that's his problem."
"Unbelievable." She wasn't sure what was worse. That Scotty was implying McCoy was frustrated because of her, or that Scotty seemed so satisfied about setting her on edge.
At least he had the sense to shoot her an apologetic smile. "Oh, come on now. Five years is a long time without a bit of drama."
"Believe me, I have had my share of drama on this ship. Even without the romance." Eager to change the subject, Amelia piped up with, "How's operation moonshine?"
Considering that they hadn't shared a drink in a while, his response was almost expected. "On hold. Captain smacked me around a bit after catching us drinking. Wanted to know where his share was. I've got to lay low for a while, if you know what I mean."
"By lay low you actually mean that you're bribing him with the product, right?"
Another wide grin. "Precisely."
A short beeping sound throughout the room caught their attention. Amelia looked up towards the ceiling, searching for the source. It didn't take long before Kirk's voice came across the intercom. "Attention on deck, this is your Captain."
"Speak of the devil."
"As of ten minutes ago, two Klingon vessels have entered within sensor range of the Enterprise. I order all crew members to report to their stations. Some of you may be aware of the recent hostilities between Starfleet and the Klingon empire. Considering the failing truce that once existed between us, there is a strong possibility of conflict. Once more, I order that all hands report to their stations."
Her voice was shaking slightly when she asked, "What does that mean?"
"It means we're standing our ground." Scotty didn't look afraid. In fact, he looked rather excited.
Surprised, Amelia shook her head, "I didn't think this was a combat ship."
"She's not. But she's primed to hold her own." Then he left with many other diners, filing out of the dining hall. A flash of blue caught her eye and she turned her attention to Th'eon, who approached her. For once he wasn't wearing a smile.
Before he could open his mouth, Amelia asked, "How dangerous are the Klingons?"
"Quite. You should get to the hydroponics bay. I'm sure there are procedures in place."
"There are." It was actually one of the first things she'd learned while spending hours with the hydroponics bay datapadd. Dropping the blast doors. Shutting down the water systems. She cast a quick glance around, noting that the dining hall was almost clear of people. "Do you need help first?"
"I will be fine, Amelia-dear. You should go." Satisfied that she wouldn't be abandoning her Andorian friend, Amelia finally stood from her table. Th'eon was right about her having a place to be. Already her mind was working to recall the emergency safety procedures for the bay.
Because the food source had to be protected. Her thoughts drifted to the Huron and how they had been without the use of the replicators. The sudden memory made her increase her pace as she headed towards the turbo-lift.
Then the entire ship rocked, sending her careening into the wall of the corridor as a small boom echoed around her. Her shoulder impacted, but not hard enough to leave any lasting injury. A siren began to wail, others in the corridor still struggling to get their footing. Amelia surveyed the damage around her, surprised at how much debris littered the corridor.
Dislodged ceiling panels had fallen to the floor, buckled walls showed exposed wires. Someone groaned behind her and she turned instantly, catching sight of a woman in a red dress uniform sprawled across the floor. Her head sported a gash, but it wasn't the wound that had her immobile. A metal beam rested across the woman's leg, effectively pinning her down.
Amelia knelt next to her and pressed a hand against her shoulder."Hey!" Her shout was probably louder than necessary, but she chalked that up to the mild ringing in her ears. As she waited for a response, she shifted down to the beam, noting how the skin trapped underneath was already a dark purple. She wrapped her hands around it and attempted to pull upwards, grunting at the strain.
It budged, but not enough for the woman to pull her foot free. Of course, in the woman's dazed state, she wouldn't be much assistance.
Amelia looked around, gaze wide as she searched for anyone else. She saw movement in the distance and sucked in a breath, calling out, "Help!"
The movement came closer, a man in a yellow uniform stepping over the debris. She let out a quick sigh of relief, motioning him over and stating the obvious, "She's trapped."
The man took a moment to look them over, his gaze lingering on the woman's face. Then he patted her cheek lightly, provoking a quick reaction. The woman startled, her gaze jumping between Amelia and the newcomer. "What-"
"Disruptor cannon blast, Lieutenant. Can you move?" It took a few moments for the lieutenant to respond to his question, but after stretching out her free limbs, she gave a nod. "Alright. Me and-" The man shot a questioning glance towards Amelia.
"Amelia Wright," she supplied quickly.
"Amelia here are going to lift this beam. I need you to roll towards me when you get clearance." Just as he maneuvered to the other side of the beam, another blast rocked the ship. This time, Amelia was braced for it, her hand catching the wall. She wanted to ask the man what else he knew about this attack, but there were more important matters at hand.
Like putting all her efforts into lifting the beam off this woman's leg. "One." He started the count. "Two." She took a deep breath. "Three." Together, they managed to elevate it a few inches, the woman instantly rolling out from under.
"Can you get her to the med-bay?" His question was met with a quick nod from Amelia, and then, just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone. The lieutenant struggled to her feet, pulling herself up until she was leaning against the wall.
Amelia watched the woman put weight on the leg that was trapped, a quick hiss escaping through her teeth. Their eyes met and she announced, "My ankle's broken."
"Med-bay isn't too far." Amelia said, moving over to tuck herself against the woman's side. She caught the woman's arm and pulled it over her shoulder, her other hand clasping her waist. "Lean on me."
Another rumble echoed through the corridor, the ship rocking once more. It wasn't enough to throw them off balance, but it was enough to remind Amelia that she needed to hurry and get to the hydroponics bay.
Hobbling into the turbo-lift and setting their destination, Amelia cast a sideways glance at the lieutenant. "How much do you think this ship can take?"
The woman tilted her head, as if listening for something. Then she turned back to Amelia. "Shields are still up. She can hold out for a while. And the Captain has his share of tactical experience."
"So I've heard." The corner of Amelia's mouth quirked upwards. At least they had that going for them...
"What is it that you do?"
She guessed that the woman asked the question to keep her mind off the swelling ankle, and Amelia obliged her with an answer. "I'm a horticulturist. I work in the hydroponics bay. You?"
"Engineering." The woman blinked in dawning realization. Light glinted against wide, tearing eyes. Amelia couldn't tell if it was from pain or frustration. "I should be down there. Keeping the ship together."
"Can't really help til they fix that ankle. One step at a time, right?" Except the hundred steps that it took to get to the already open doors of the med-bay seemed to draw the energy right out of the lieutenant, her breathing heavy as they stumbled inside.
Someone in a white shirt approached them, taking Amelia's place. As soon as the weight was lifted, she straightened and looked around the room. There were more beds than she remembered, cots pulled down from the wall to house the growing number of patients.
"-he needs ... surgery, which I can't perform while the damn ship is moving. Get him stable." The familiar voice barked, and Amelia rotated her head to catch a glimpse of McCoy. He was wearing his white coat, his brow furrowed as he stared down at a patient. "125 ml saline over the next hour. Prep for a transfusion."
It was strange how these were the times she saw him at his best. When people around him were hurt and dying. She watched him place his hand on the man's arm, a comforting gesture meant to go unnoticed. But she noticed and it was that part of him she often found herself drawn to.
Just as she prepared herself to turn around and head towards the hydroponics bay, she heard his voice again. "Miss Wright, are you injured?"
Her spine went stiff at the formality, but she didn't blame him. She hadn't exactly given him reason to be more personal. When she caught his concerned hazel gaze, she said, "No. I'm fine. Just helped someone get here."
His expression softened, "You should stay here. The med-bay is a safe-zone, one of the last to lose power and shielding."
She countered, "I've got to get to the hydroponics bay."
"Your plants aren't worth your life, Amelia." His responding growl earned him a knowing tilt of her mouth. Not exactly a smile considering the situation, but an expression that said she was grateful for his concern.
"Those plants are going to be all we've got if we lose the replicators." Understanding spread across his face. "Go... you have people to save."
He caught her arm as she went to leave, his eyes fierce and his tone low. "I don't want you to be among them. You watch your ass." His statement wasn't a plea or a request. It was an order. And it was one she felt compelled to obey.
"I will." His hand dropped from her arm, his eyes darting behind him, to the many people who were waiting for further orders from the doctor. McCoy gave her one last hard look, then turned abruptly to head back into the med-bay.
As soon as he was out of sight, Amelia was back in the corridor, navigating her way to the hydroponics bay. The Enterprise was hit three more times in rapid succession and as she came closer to the bay, she could almost hear the sounds of returned fire. She wondered if that was because she was so close to the hull.
Whatever was happening... they were fighting back.
The well-known sliding doors of the bay came into view, the lights above blinking randomly. Even with the obvious power issues, they slid open without hesitation. The solar lighting above the plants was dim, causing her a moment of concern.
They'll survive without it, she reminded herself, refocusing on the task at hand.
Amelia pulled out the hydroponics bay datapadd, shifting through instructions until she found the procedure to bring down the blast doors. Detailed diagrams appeared, showing her a lever that she had seen many times before.
In the secondary environment.
Which was currently frozen over in order to grow the Andorian fungus.
"Not enough foresight for that one, huh?" Amelia muttered to herself as she threw open the door to the secondary environment. Cold air wafted past her, goosebumps forming on her neck. Her eyes went to the wall where the yellow painted lever glistened.
Maybe it was still movable. Amelia darted inside, closing her hand around the bar at the top and trying to ignore the sudden needle-like pain that spread along her palm. Taking in a deep breath, she tugged at it, willing it to budge. You don't have time for this!
Even if she altered the controls the room wouldn't defrost in time. And she couldn't walk away now. Not when the room around her might be their only hope for survival should the replicators fail.
Amelia tapped the heel of her hand against her forehead, frustration coming to the surface. "Think, Amelia, think!" It was too cold. Too frozen.
Her head snapped up. Which meant she needed heat. And lots of it.
She stopped at the control panels for the environment, shutting down every system inside. Then she ran to the primary environment panels and closed off the water systems. In the back corner of the bay rested a small stack of large black containers.
Amelia read the labels, pushing boxes aside when they weren't what she was looking for.
"K. Potassium." Another shove. "N. Nitrogen." She slid that one over too. Her eyes landed on a series of letters and numbers. "N-H-N-O. Ammonium Nitrate."
Common ingredients in fertilizer. Ingredients she had used before to blow a tree stump clean out of the ground. She did alright in chemistry, but as she snapped open the container and started shoveling the nitrate into a steel bowl she wondered if 'alright' would get her blown to smithereens.
The hydroponics bay also had something along the lines of a tool-shed. Amelia ransacked it as well, sliding on the thickest gloves she could find. Because that metal bowl was going to get real hot real quick.
She didn't have a flint, but she had plenty of metal tools. Her eyes went to a familiar set hanging on the rack. Her mother's trowel and rake. She clutched them both in one hand, scooping the bowl in the other before racing back to the Andorian environment.
A sharp tilt of the ship sent her stumbling, the bowl and tools clanging across an iced floor. The attacks from outside seemed to be stronger now, as if the constant barrage was finally making a dent. You need to move faster, now.
She listened to that mental voice, her hands shoveling the ammonium nitrate back into the bowl. Tucking it between her knees to hold it in place, she gripped the trowel in one hand and rake in the other. "Girl scouts... don't fail me now."
Using all the speed she could muster, she sent the rake hard against the edge of the trowel. Sparks flew, but not where she needed them to.
Amelia adjusted her position, repeating her attempt at setting the nitrate on fire. One. Two. Faster. On the fifth strike, the compound inside the bowl caught fire, the flames erupting high enough to singe her eyebrows.
With gloved hands, she picked up the bowl, careful to keep it a safe distance from herself. But not from the lever. Elation filled her when the flames licked at the ice, water dripping down the wall. When her hands were close to blistering, she finally set the bowl back on the ground.
The second time she tugged on the lever, it gave. A small cry of victory escaped her when she locked it into the down position. As soon as it snapped in, a grinding noise rang through the bay.
Amelia glance out of the secondary environment, watching as the hull wall was covered by a second lowering wall. The blast wall. It had no sooner touched the bottom when she was thrown from her standing position, a resounding boom echoing in her ears.
Sprawled across the floor, a fire still raged beside her. She didn't think about it for too long, though, knowing that it was contained and it would die out on its own. Now that she'd secured the hydroponics bay, Amelia would need to find a safe-zone. A place for her to wait out this battle.
Her first thought was to go to the med-bay...
STARDATE 2260.151
Beta Quadrant
When the Enterprise gets hit... she gets hit hard. The second that Jim made his announcement, he knew what was coming. Maybe it was because he had faced the Klingons before, or maybe it was just the fact that his gut told him to prepare for the worst. His team returned early from their breakfast, filing in to their stations.
Doctor Robinson made an appearance too, deviating from her post on the lower decks of the ship. For a moment he wondered why she was there, then he remember she had been asking for a bone regen kit. Now was probably the best time to ensure she had one.
"White case under biobed four." It was all she needed to hear, because she was gone a moment later. As his team began to lower cots, McCoy prepped various hyposprays and intravenous drips. He snapped sanitation wands into their slots on the walls and did a second check on the biobed displays.
The wait that followed wasn't a long one.
While the nurses secured equipment, the first strike occurred. The only reason he remained upright was because he'd been bracing himself against his desk. The ship shuddered and he shuddered with it, his eyes drifting close as terror threatened to fight its way to the surface.
Despite the openness of space, retreat wasn't always an option. The metal box that contained them could be ripped to shreds. He had seen it exposed once before...
Jim has saved this ship time and time again. Have a little faith? McCoy found that to be a difficult task, but it was one he accomplished because how the hell could he tell a patient to have faith when he had none himself?
The first patient came in with electrical burns. The second came in with a concussion. Then the broken bones started to file in. Every once in a while his team looked to him for answers. And he gave them some, medical or not.
The worst was a commander who had shrapnel lodged in his lung. Because even though McCoy could remove the metal and sew him up, he still needed internal repair. He stared down at the man, wondering if he could spare the resources right now.
Triage.
One of the nurses asked, "Doctor McCoy? What would you like us to do with him?"
"Nothing we can do right now. What he needs is surgery, which I can't perform while the damn ship is moving. Get him stable." He hadn't meant to come across so hard, but frustration was building with every rock of the ship. The longer the Enterprise was engaged with the Klingons, the more people would die around him.
He looked down at the patient, calculating the best way to keep him alive. "125 ml saline over the next hour. Prep for a transfusion."
Someone carried a woman past him and he gave her a quick once over, his eyes lingering on her swollen ankle. Then he felt the sensation that he was being watched. He cast a glance at the door, startled to see Amelia standing there.
Her name was already forming in his mouth, but he caught himself before he voiced it, instead asking, "Miss Wright, are you injured?"
"No. I'm fine." He let out a sigh of relief. So what was she doing at the med-bay? "Just helped someone get here."
She looked ready to bolt. Instead of letting his confusion show, he went for the gentle approach. She always seemed to respond to that. "You should stay here. The med-bay is a safe-zone, one of the last to lose power and shielding."
"I've got to get to the hydroponics bay." McCoy bristled, that earlier frustration shifting its aim towards her. They were in the middle of an attack and she wanted to go the damn hydroponics bay? Of all the things...
"Your plants aren't worth your life, Amelia." He argued, somehow knowing that she would leave anyway.
"Those plants are going to be all we've got if we lose the replicators." His jaw ticked when he realized that she was right. Then she added, "Go... you have people to save." If only he could help them all.
She turned to leave and before he could stop himself he caught her arm. His voice dropped, hoping she would take his next words to heart, "I don't want you to be among them. You watch your ass."
"I will." He intended to hold her to that. As much as he wanted to stay there next to her, there was chaos behind him that he needed to tend to. Finally, he released her arm and turned away. He shouldn't be worrying about her. Not when there were bodies in beds that required his focus.
His communicator chirped and he swiftly brought it to his ear. "McCoy."
"Could you report to the bridge. You will need to bring a wrist brace and a diagnostic kit." Spock's tone was clipped, his words short and to the point.
There was only one reason they would pull him from the med-bay and that was an injury to one of the command staff. He dialed another communicator. "Robinson."
"I need you to take the med-bay." As his second, she would make sure it continued to run smoothly.
"Yes, sir." McCoy snapped the communicator back against his hip then began to pack a small silver case. He ensured that most of the patients were stable before he left, issuing a few more orders for the ones who weren't.
On his way to the bridge, the ship was hit several more times, a few jolts strong enough to make him lose his balance. Even before he stepped into the bridge, he could hear the bark of commands from his Captain.
"Fire." Kirk's mouth was set in a thin line as the viewing screen displayed the bright lights of the torpedoes.
"Photon torpedoes set for intercept." Sulu responded immediately, the man's eyes focused on the screen in front of them.
"Shields?" Kirk asked, his gaze intent on Sulu.
"62 percent." While Kirk went back and forth with Sulu, McCoy spent a moment to gaze at the viewing screen. Two aggressive looking ships were displayed in the center. They certainly had the characteristics of a Klingon...
"Hull status?"
"Decks 18 and 19 have ruptured hulls, interior shields are holding for evacuation" Suddenly, the ships vanished. "Sir, they've cloaked!"
"Use a flare, scan for impact."
With a brief lull in the battle, Spock finally approached him, "Doctor McCoy. The captain has a fractured wrist." With the way Kirk was pressing it against his stomach, McCoy didn't doubt it.
"Captain?" Jim turned at McCoy's voice, giving a frustrated sigh.
"I said it was fine, Mr. Spock." Despite Jim's protest, McCoy still made his way over to the chair. His case was open a moment later, the brace in hand. "Don't you have patients to tend to, Bones?"
"Can't perform surgery til the battle's over." He waited for Jim to hold out his arm, pushing up his sleeve when he reluctantly gave over the limb. McCoy slipped on the brace and waved his scanner across it. "Keeping the Captain focused seems to be the fastest way to end this."
As McCoy tended to Kirk with a series of hyposprays and scans, Sulu tossed over his shoulder, "Scanners picking up a signal, Sir."
"Lock on, fire again." Again, the viewing screen changed to show the launched weapons. "Shields?"
"57 percent." The ship tilted once more, the booms growing louder. Sulu's voice rose to compensate. "47 percent. Cargo bays five, six, and seven have ruptured hull damage. Interior shields failing. We have a high temperature fire in cargo bay six."
"Life-signs?" Kirk asked with a frown.
"Scanner is disrupted in the area, Sir"
"Seal it off and cut the oxygen. If a fire spreads we can lose half the deck." Cargo bay six? Why did that sound so familiar?
McCoy shot a quick glance at Spock, realization dawning as he recalled that cargo bay six had been re-designated. "Is that the hydroponics bay?" At Spock's nod, McCoy's gut twisted as he looked back to his captain. He remembered the reason that Amelia had risked her life to get to that bay. "We can't lose the plants, Jim. It's our food source."
"I have no other option. Once it's safe we'll remove the seal. The plants will survive."
"Amelia's in there. She won't." His voice shook, his breath catching in his throat. Was this why he'd spent so many years alone? Because of the feeling of desperation that was building inside of him?
These were the hard choices. The ones that Jim was forced to make. Triage. But no matter how necessary it seemed, Kirk's next words sent a bolt of fury and sorrow straight through him. "Seal it off."
McCoy clutched hard the railing behind the Captain's chair, both to keep himself upright and to prevent himself from doing anything drastic.
Like decking Jim. Like breaking things.
Behind him, things continued on, conversation filtering through his brain. "Sir, they've ceased firing."
"Surrender?" Jim's tone betrayed the optimistic word.
"Doubtful, Captain." Spock...
"Must have hit their cannons. The ship being towed, what's its status?"
"Still cloaked, however no power is being diverted to the weapons systems."
Reality crashed back over the haze that threatened to settle, Jim's voice suddenly louder at his side. McCoy needed to get out of there. Now. He needed purpose and drive and neither could be found on the bridge. He started for the doors, ignoring the concerned glances shot his way.
"Arm torpedoes, but hold fire. Open a channel."
"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise..."
Walk. McCoy listened to that voice in his head, stumbling out of the bridge. Now that the exchange of fire was on hold, he needed to get back to the med-bay and begin the multitudes of surgeries he was sure to face.
And he sure as hell needed to get a grip on his emotions. Amelia's dead and there's nothing you can do about it. But you can get it together and keep other people from dying. He couldn't start cutting people up. Not in this condition.
Not when his chest felt heavy, his throat felt tight, and his head roared.
"Doctor McCoy?" Robinson's worried face came into view and McCoy jerked back suddenly. When had he made it to the med-bay?
"Yes?"
"We have 19 patients. Four are prepped for surgery." Four? At the time he had been called to the bridge there had only been two.
"Any dead?"
"Yes. Three." McCoy's eyes drifted shut, a long exhale escaping him. He kept himself from asking the cause, knowing that information would come eventually. What he really needed to do was focus on the remaining four he could save.
His eyes snapped back open, his gaze landing on the biobeds. Sure enough, four bodies were strapped and stripped, scanners running above them. One of the nurses passed by and he caught her arm. "Get me a new coat and gloves." Turning back to Robinson, he asked, "You take the collapsed lung. I'll take the ruptured appendix."
"Yes, Sir."
Shrugging on a new jacket and slipping on fresh gloves, McCoy made his way across the med-bay. Several non-critical patients were resting in cots, injuries ranging from concussion and scrapes to snapped bones and burns. None required his expertise as much as the ruptured appendix. Especially when the man had been forced to wait out the battle.
It was a complicated surgery, made even more so by the fact that everything had to be done in spurts. If the Klingons began firing again then hopefully it would be after the laser scalpels were off. McCoy, somehow, kept his mind from wandering. It was easier than before, the screen displaying internal organs in front of him allowing for little else.
Antibiotics. Stats. Slice. Stats. Tubing in place. Stats. Suction. Stats.
When he was finished with that patient, he went on to the next. And when Robinson completed her assigned procedures, he directed her back to the lower decks where she was needed.
McCoy's communicator chirped, drawing his attention from one of his less critical patients. He held it against his ear and growled, McCoy."
"Captain Kirk requests a status report." Spock's voice came across the communicator and his usual stoic tone instantly set McCoy on edge. The woman you sponsored is dead you green-blooded bastard! It wouldn't hurt to at least sound affected by that knowledge...
Instead of voicing that thought, McCoy snapped, "So far, 19 patients stable and three dead. I'll send names as soon as I have them."
He was just about to close the communicator when he heard Spock's voice once more."McCoy?"
Something in his tone stilled him, caused him to put the device back to his ear. "What?"
"The Captain lifted the seal for cargo bay six. Search teams did not find a body. Miss Wright was not in the hydroponics bay."
Deep in the cavity of his chest, his heart thudded faster. "Then where is she?"