USS Asimov
Quarters: Finnegan
Posted by Ensign Elliot Finnegan (Engineering Officer) in Quarters: Finnegan
Posted by Gamemaster Janus (Gamemaster) in Quarters: Finnegan
Posted by Ensign Elliot Finnegan (Engineering Officer) in Quarters: Finnegan
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻
On Day 1 of the crash, Ensign Finnegan was sleeping soundly in his shared quarters. The crash, unfortunately, knocked him out cold, and it wasn’t until the second day he woke. As luck would have it, he remained mostly uninjured, simply due to the nature of the bed he slept in, and the location of his quarters. There were a couple of light bruising, but nothing was broken or bleeding. It was like if he was in an earthquake and slept through it. The crash did knock his head hard, and he experience a brief moment of being awake. Since Finnegan was dreaming in his sleep, what he could remember was a dis-jointed dream of reality shifting from the dream world, into the quarters, and then blacking out again followed by returning back to the dream world.OOC: Feel free to make up your dream. Also, I’m going to be guiding your character from where he was in the crash to the current present timeline.
IC:
When Finnegan finally awoke, he was terribly hungry, the power was out, his quarters were completely dark, and he had the extreme urge and need to use the restroom.
GM
Finn reached out to the buxom young woman, who smiled at him, holding out her arms. He smiled back, that half-smile that had won him so many hearts at the Academy. He stepped forward, ready to feel her embrace.
And then she slapped him.
Finn bolted awake as the ship shuddered and his head hit the bulkhead. He grimaced, recognizing the attempts of the inertial dampeners to compensate for… something. For what? What was happening?
Then he was vaulted upwards into the bunk above him and the room was dark again.
She smelled like lilacs, he decided. Yes, lilacs. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling that scent. He couldn’t see her face, or really see her at all, but he just knew she was beautiful. Was the scent her hair, or her skin? It didn’t matter, it was all soft.
His foot throbbed. She must have stepped on it. She should really stop that. Why did she continue to step on his foot? Why was she standing on his foot?
“Move,” he said softly into her hair.
His foot throbbed.
“Please, move,” he whispered.
It hurt more.
He pushed away from her.
“Move!” he yelled, sitting up suddenly in the darkness. His head spun, but settled quickly, since he couldn’t see anything. His foot throbbed where it was tangled in something, something hard. He gasped at the pain, reaching down with his hand. He shifted his body and slipped the appendage out of what he thought was the frame of the table in his room. He pushed aside the lilacs he’d been laying in, the remnants of the table centerpiece, glad the vase didn’t seem to have shattered, or had done so elsewhere.
His eyes slowly adjusted, though all he could really make out were outlines, but that was enough for him to find the storage compartment where he kept his engineering kit, which included a hand-light. He lit it, looking around at the damage.
First thing’s first, he thought, his stomach suddenly making itself known. Food.
He took two steps before turning back toward the back of his room.
Nope. The head.
Finnegan, Engineering
The damage to his room was minimal, but anything that wasn’t bolted down was tossed all over the room. Finnegan made it successfully to relieve himself but his other urgency of hunger now sat at the forefront of his mind. Finnegan would find that his comm-badge not working if he tried to use it. He knew that the comm-badge should be able to operate independently of the ship’s systems, but something was jamming the subspace signal. Other of his crewmembers would have not be fortunate to have access to an Engineering kit, which meant that many of his fellow crewmates were in the dark, quite literally. If power was out, so was the turbolift. Finnegan began to feel slightly cold, and could smell the air becoming stale. Finnegan, as an engineer, had many problems that faced him: he was hungry, power was out, communications was out, something terrible happened to the ship, he was lacking knowledge, his crewmates were probably injured, the crew would need to be able to move between decks easily since the turbolifts would be down due to the lack of power, and he needed to figure out where to go. Emergency rations would probably available in the cargo bays, as well as other crewmates who would go there to gather since it would be likely that Medical would set up a temporary triage there. Finnegan recalled that they left the Starbase without any shuttlecraft – that meant that it was useless to go to the shuttlebays to try to provide power for the ship.
GM
Finn moved the sofa - previously on the other side of the room - away from the door, then gripped the door seam and pulled. After a second, the door seal gave way and he was able to open it the rest of the way. He silently thanked the engineers who had thought of power failures when designing the doors. He shone his torch out into the hall, to his left and then his right. There was no movement, and no sounds.
“Up one deck,” he muttered, thinking of the closest likely place he would find additional crew. The cargo bay. He swished the light back and forth again before heading toward the aft of the ship. There was a maintenance shaft … right there. He set down his kit and again worked on prying open the doors, revealing a vertical shaft ringed by a one-foot platform, with a ladder on one side.
Finn slid the kit strap over his head and stepped across the air, grabbed the ladder, and began his ascent.
Finn, Engineering
Finn arrived in the cargo bay, and found a lonely medical Ensign staffing. There were not many injured, and the makeshift sickbay seemed to be not full in capacity. Ensign Clancey noticed him. “Have a seat, Ensign. I’m Ensign Clancey.”
Clancey ran a medical tricorder scan. “Well, you seem to be in okay health. Aside from dehydration and malnutrition, you are otherwise mostly uninjured. Here, have some water and a standard field ration. If you are wondering, it’s the second day after the Asimov crashed. Most of the critically injured personnel have been moved to Sickbay, thanks to a makeshift turbolift that Engineering is running with Security. They are using an anti-gravity sled with a series of pulleys. You are cleared for duty, Ensign.”
A science Ensign came up, with the water and the field ration. “Here you go. I’m Ensign Maher, science division, I’ve been helping Ensign Clancey, but we’re about to shut down the makeshift sickbay to conserve more power.”
GM
Finnegan nodded, taking the cup and ration. He ate slowly, sipping after each bite, recalling he used to hate these rations. It was amazing what a little light starvation could do to a person. “Is engineering set up in main engineering?” he asked around a mouthful of ration. “I should get over there.”
Finn, Engineering
“I believe so,” said Ensign Maher, “But I’ve been mostly stuck on this deck, and without our communicators, the lack of communication between decks has been mostly by word of mouth, making everything difficult.”
GM