"Zari," Jean says, voice tight with frustration, "get me on a comm channel, I can't do anything if I can't talk to anyone--"
"Your recordings are broadcasting on all the available channels I am doing my best they aren't taking transmissions now shut up I am trying to get on their systems--"
"Fine -- fine -- someone, you, give me numbers fifteen through twenty on list C, maybe someone can get me an override code."
A woman starts reading off names, in a clipped tone. Jean shakes his head at the first two; then another alarm goes off, adding to the several that are currently blaring and increasing the general chaos of the room. "Fuck," Jean interrupts, "is that Vulcan? Someone tell me that's Vulcan."
The man at that terminal shakes his head. "Message didn't make it through the bounces. I'll resend, but it's not going to make it in time."
Jean curses, again, this time in French and rather more extended. "We just need to stall -- we just need time -- Epsilon, can we arrange something they can see from orbit, doesn't matter what it is, just something to make them stop and reevaluate the situation..."
"Jean," Zari interrupts, "I've got someone on-planet who might have a shuttle, we could get a couple of people off, come talk to them--"
She hasn't finished speaking before he's taken the headset from her and is talking rapidly into it, hand over his other ear.
On about half of the dozen screens in the room, the USS Orpheus continues to hang in the blackness of space, looming over the planet, with its Genesis Device prepped and armed for firing.