It's a piece of outdated technology that neither of them are well accustomed to but everyone's gotten the hang of them and very sparing use has meant Hermione's charms have kept them working up till this point.
"I'll be there in five. Kirk out."
The frigid winds nip like a cruel taunt at Delia's exposed olive green skin, batter against her coat and body relentlessly as if to chastise her for spending time outside in the elements rather than, well. The base is quieter than it was, with most of the refugees sheltered as safely as possible in the shelters they've set up. Her steps echo against the floor, the snow slow to melt with the draft that a lack of bodies has invited to seep insidiously in.
Captain Kirk is still shaking the snow from his hair and off his all-weather jacket. The cloak he's worn over it is hung on the back of the folding chair he's not using. His gaze snaps from the maps he's tracing with gloved fingertips up to Delia when he hears her come in.
"Holding up alright out there?" It's a rhetorical question, more of a greeting than an actual query. Jim only waits for Delia to acknowledge he's said anything before he gets straight to the point. There's nothing but tension and command in his posture these last few days. Things are getting tight and everyone knows it. It's showing in the decrease in rations being given to everyone. In how thin the grip those in charge are keeping of their composure. James T Kirk is no different.
"We have a bead on what might be the largest supply cache to date in a camp near the wilds. It's well outside the safe zone and if we're going to gear up and go out there I need to know it's a sure thing. We needs those supplies, Delia. Badly. I won't pretend this is a safe or sure thing, but I'd feel better if you accompanied that Washington kid on his speeder and checked the place out. He should be on his way here now."
no subject
"I'll be there in five. Kirk out."
The frigid winds nip like a cruel taunt at Delia's exposed olive green skin, batter against her coat and body relentlessly as if to chastise her for spending time outside in the elements rather than, well. The base is quieter than it was, with most of the refugees sheltered as safely as possible in the shelters they've set up. Her steps echo against the floor, the snow slow to melt with the draft that a lack of bodies has invited to seep insidiously in.
Captain Kirk is still shaking the snow from his hair and off his all-weather jacket. The cloak he's worn over it is hung on the back of the folding chair he's not using. His gaze snaps from the maps he's tracing with gloved fingertips up to Delia when he hears her come in.
"Holding up alright out there?" It's a rhetorical question, more of a greeting than an actual query. Jim only waits for Delia to acknowledge he's said anything before he gets straight to the point. There's nothing but tension and command in his posture these last few days. Things are getting tight and everyone knows it. It's showing in the decrease in rations being given to everyone. In how thin the grip those in charge are keeping of their composure. James T Kirk is no different.
"We have a bead on what might be the largest supply cache to date in a camp near the wilds. It's well outside the safe zone and if we're going to gear up and go out there I need to know it's a sure thing. We needs those supplies, Delia. Badly. I won't pretend this is a safe or sure thing, but I'd feel better if you accompanied that Washington kid on his speeder and checked the place out. He should be on his way here now."