Posted by Kvasir (Story Teller) in Main Sim [Bridge]: Belly of the Beast

Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Captain) in Main Sim [Bridge]: Belly of the Beast

Posted by Kvasir (Story Teller) in Main Sim [Bridge]: Belly of the Beast
Posted by… suppressed (7) by the Post Ghost! 👻

—[SNIP]—

“I weren’t able ta get much outta Hab’rabi; initially he apologized for the actions of the mote things, and denied any malicious intent with them. And asking about NE Sacco… well, instead of acknowledging the bizarre realities of the events, he plead ‘Cultural Differences’.” Issac spat the last phrase as if it were bitter poison. “But then that warp field fired off; and he acted like it was gonna kill ‘em all. Before he passed out; he mentioned being able ta speak freely for a moment; before he…” He paused, face scrunched up as he recalled the wording that was used. “Before they could see or hear again. He spoke about Wraiths and daemons; evil ancestors - something; he didn’t know what, or so he said. Then… well, he gave me a passphrase, and told me to seek out Legion. Not hard to assume he’s referring to the ship AI you’d talked to earlier, Ma’am.” Issac paused, looking to the side in a unconscious gesture of discomfort, before continuing. “He asked me ta protect his people; and the… Yur, whatever that is.” At that, he held out a sheet torn out of a small notepad; on it was the transcription he had written of the presumed passphrase. “I don’t know what this does Ma’am; but I think you’re the one who needs ta hang onto it.”

-Forgrave, CoS

Rende looked at Woods, “Seems to fit, doesn’t it?” Then she looked at Forgrave taking the piece of paper from him. Old school, she liked it, “The cultural database sent over by the ship say the yur are a kind of body for the remnants to use so they can interact with the world around them. Vessels of a sort, genetically-created vehicles or something like that. Hab’rabi didn’t say anything else or do anything else? I take it if our influenced officers were in bad shape, he was worse?” She turned to Yorba, “Yorba play that last audio file you found. Listen to this Forgrave, and tell me what you think is going on now.”

“Yeah; Hab’rabi was… lookin’ rough, to say the least. Like someone was re-arranging his guts while the mother of all migraines hammered his skull.” Issac looked uncomfortable as he described the man’s condition. “Reckon I maybe should’a stayed ta make sure he was stable.... but I felt I needed to kick this up the chain sooner rather than later, Ma’am.”

Klaxons. Explosions. Weapons fire. And screaming. So very many terrified screams. Closest to the source of it all was a ragged panting, as if someone was running… or fleeing. A wet smack, a grunt and a heavy noise. Snarling, scrabbling, metal clashing against metal. A crisp sound followed by the pattering of a thick liquid and a shuddering wheeze. Heavier footfalls, and a soft scraping. Finally, a voice choked thick with fear shuddered across the comm system.

“Father, please,” It was a girl’s voice, little more than a child. “Please don’t go. I’m scared.“

A deeper voice, hauntingly familiar made a soothing noise. “They must be contained, Ishara. I cannot do this if I need fear for your safety. Stay here. I will find you once it is done. Mother will watch over you.“

A scraping, metal on metal. A heavy thunk, muffled silence. Heavy breathing, crisp and confined. A pause so long it felt as if it would never end. Then, an explosion and a squelch as the transmission ended. Yorba didn’t look up from his fingers, splayed across the console as if it were a lifeline.

Rende looked back at Forgrave, a somber expression on her face, “The voice is a 98% match to Hab’rabi.”

Issac nodded; but his mind was preoccupied with the other sounds in the recording - sounds of combat, close and brutal.

Yorba had been hard at work at his station, dozens of holodisplays floating around his head with various points of information. The screen before him displayed the alien ship, and the lieutenant was diligently pouring over the entire vessel deck by deck. Several times he would be so transfixed that one might have thought him a statue, still and unwavering in studious intensity; other times one would have thought him quite mad, swiping furiously at the floating holos or tapping aggressively at the controls. Finally he pushed away from his station with a heavy sigh and turned to the other officers.

“I have a few ideas of where someone might put something they don’t necessarily want others to have access to,” he announced almost proudly, frowning for a brief moment as he dismissed his halo of holos. “While I’m no shipwright, most starships operate on the same general principle and design based on function. With the computer’s help and a little guesswork, I’ve been able to piece together the general layout of the alien ship.”

Turning, he pulled up the exterior view of Hab’rabi’s colony ship drifting lazily in the blackness of space. A few quick taps of the console brought up a wireframe overlay complete with several notations. “The rear quarter of the ship is the drive section, and though we can’t get an accurate reading of every deck, I’d guess this is also where main life support is handled. Our scans have at least been able to approximate their core’s location, and the engineering section seems rather extensive. There are a few holes in our sensor readings in this section, places where either the radiation is too dense or where composite plating muddles our sensors. These could be storage lockers for special substances, or a secure area in case of emergency.”

“Forward of that is the docking ring and cargo areas,” Yorba continued, gesturing to the circular protrusion cinching the behemoth’s body. “It’s largely bare of unnecessary comforts beyond environmental controls. Quite a bit of heavy machinery and storage containers; probably supplies to terraform their new world, if they ever get that far. Many of the larger containers are so densely shielded that we can’t detect what’s inside. There’s also a large area amidship that has refused to be scanned by any trick I could come up with; judging by the power consumption and ambient readings, it’s some kind of cryostorage.”

The front half of the vessel brightened as the lieutenant tapped away at his controls. “This sections is habitation for the crew and their families. Well clear of the radiation, we can see almost everything they’ve got inside. There’s a small impulse drive nestled at the core with a lot of auxiliary subsystems—water and waste reclamation, monitoring, supply storage, and the like—which I can only assume would come online if the rear section was somehow compromised. We found Hab’rabi a few decks above and forward in one of the many clusters of stasis chambers. There are a few heavily shielded areas in this section, such as the bridge, as well as several smaller, evenly-spaced closet-sized compartments. Weapon or tool storage would be my guess.”

Yorba’s face soured a bit, taking on a more serious expression. “Captain, I feel compelled to point out that we’ll have to decide what to do with Hab’rabi and his vessel soon. According to my calculations, the power that we were able to transfer to the colony ship will be exhausted in thirty-seven hours at current consumption. Repairing their leaking drive might buy us some time; they’ve also got solar sails for auxiliary recharge, but I’ve no idea what condition they’re in or how to deploy them. I’d… hate for them to come all this way—have endured this much—for them to suffocate and die in their sleep.”

He turned back to his console and reactivated the holodisplays, obscuring his face. One did not need to be a telepath to know Yorba’s mind: he was a Starfleet man through and through, with a high regard for the sanctity of life. “We’ll figure this out,” he whispered. “We have to.”

She listened looking at the diagram, finger tapping on the console of her chair. She’d taken installations over the years with less intel. She would really like to know more, but first her crew, then they would help Hab’rabi if they could. Rende walked up behind Yorba and placed a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze. “We will Yorba. But for now, let’s try to get back in touch with Legion. Open a channel.” Rende waited for the familiar whistle of the comms opening. =/\=Legion this Cpt Rende of the USS Viking. I have a message for you from your Lord Hab’rabi.=/\=

Rende, CO

Forgrave tensed when Rende opened a line to Legion; but it was her call, after all. But still.... “If you’re sure Ma’am; after all, we don’t know what that command does…” His voice was pitched low; outside of the pickup range but still within range for those on the bridge to hear.

Yorba nodded, tapped at his console for a moment. There was a chirp across the comm system followed by a deep silence. The lieutenant frowned, tried the channel again. More silence. Checking his instrumentation, he shrugged at Rende.

“No response, Captain. Could be it used up too much power, or is still in diagnos—”

“PURSUANT RENDE ASAM OF THE USS VIKING,” Legion’s voice thundered from every speaker on the bridge. “DIAGNOSTIC MODE INCOMPLETE. INSUFFICIENT POWER TO MAINTAIN COMMUNICATIONS. REQUESTING TWO LITERS OF ANTIMATTER. TERMINATING LINK. UNITY IN PEACE, PURSUANT RENDE.“

With a harsh click, the bridge was plunged into almost deafening silence. Yobra tried to squint away the ringing in his ears, then consulted his console.

“Well, that did it. Their communications array is completely dead.” He shook his head and gestured to the image of the alien ship, to the room where the away team had encountered Hab’rabi. “Sir, I’m detecting power fluctuations in one of the stasis tubes. It… looks like the ship is diverting power from it to the still-functioning systems. The life sign inside is still stable, but I’m not sure for how long.”
—Jas—
[Edited Jen’s post to account for accurate information and link. Happy writing!]

Issac sighed, half in frustration, half in relief. “Well, reckon that delays things; though I don’t think I appreciate it when it’s combined with our fuzzy time limit. Do we have anyone from engineering working on antimatter transfer? I know that was a question raised from the start; but I’ve not been following that point at all. And hell; much as I hate the question, I reckon it’s gotta be asked - do we want to transfer any antimatter? I ain’t one ta leave a ship stranded; but I can play devil’s advocate if I need to - and we got enough reason ta cut bait and run.” His face was drawn but steady; though he shared Yorba’s views.

-Forgrave, CoS