Lt. Commander V'Nille - Freefallin'
Renée Chalfant
(( Corridor outside the Bridge, Derelict Vulcan Ship ))
A look around her new environment showed the clear signs of a ship long abandoned and left for dead. It seemed whatever was animating the vessel had no interest in putting up the image of a ship in active use here. The door to what looked like the bridge was open a few meters down. The Caitian bent back down to check the hatch for any signs of damage or jagged edges that would pose a risk to the suits. The process involved pushing the door out wider to give the people following her the biggest possible opening.
V’Nille: Alright, looks clear. No ghosts or mirages, I’m happy to report!
Xiron: Sorry to break the moment but I just heard from Is’Kah. Doctor Edrei has been beaten by their captures and is in need of immediate medical attention.
V’Nille turned to look at the Andorian and frowned. That took a turn.
Ada: What?
Grallator: That is not good at all. Seems the universe has decided we’re not allowed a single break—not even the cheap kind,
V’Nille: I’ll pass along the message.
Xiron: Through gritted teeth:: They are hurting the team planet side.
V’Nille shook her head in a mixture of disappointment and frustration, then opened a channel to the ship. Or tried to. All she got was a blast of feedback straight to her ears, leaving her momentarily deafened. She shook her head again as if to clear that and blinked at the others.
Ada: ::To V'Nille:: Maybe double time it from here, once we get this ship taken care of we can help planetside. Captain permitting.
Grallator: ::Words weren’t exactly lining up in his head just now, but he managed the essentials:: I second that.
The second attempt gave the same result with the addition of a mild headache. Her mood soured.
V’Nille: Something is interfering with our communications. All I’m getting is feedback when I try to hail the Chin’toka.
Xiron: It is passing. I think I will be alright. Whatever put this spell on this ship is really loving this psychic energy.
V’Nille did her best to ignore the ringing in her ears as she followed Ada through the double-wide doors to the bridge, which was advertised.
(( Bridge ))
After the doors opened, Ada gave her a glance and she gave her a thumbs up in turn. Whatever else happened, they were committed to the next room.
Ada: Ready?
Grallator: Ready as I can always be, ::he said, which in his case meant somewhere between ‘absolutely not’ and ‘already regretting it.’ He adjusted his grip on the tricorder like a man preparing to duel with a filing cabinet and added, mostly to himself:: Though in fairness, that’s about as ready as I ever get.
V’Nille: We’re committed now. Let’s see what awaits us.
Xiron: As ready as I can be with all the other unknowns we have seen today.
Ada: I'll go first, I have the most direct contact with the ship.
Barely lit, entirely devoid of people other than her team, and a weirdly light layer of dust greeted V’Nille as they entered the spacious bridge. She was surprised to see that at least one console was brightly lit, seemingly ready to go, and unsurprised to see that it was the one place that Ada went straight to. The Caitian suppressed the urge to follow and instead did a visual tour of the rest of the space before linking back up with the group.
The console that attracted everyone’s attention was labeled quite clearly and simply “Orbital Planning” in text that was conveniently translated for them. Various options were plainly laid out for them, ranging from Lagrange points, geosynchronous orbits, and what was apparently the ship’s preference of “Standard Orbit”.
She noticed that Grallator kept his distance from the console as she and Ada were looking more closely at it.
Grallator: With everything this ship’s thrown at us, I was honestly expecting a few more dead Vulcan spirits to pop up on the bridge. Maybe holding a staff meeting. Or rehearsing a dramatic sigh.
V’Nille: Honestly, I’m surprised we didn’t get that. I figured we’d see a replay of them taking up station or something. ::glances at Ada:: What are you thinking, Commander Ada?
Xiron: There is still time for that Ensign. The console looks to be in standby. Maybe it came back on when we cleared that zero-point energy blockage? Or there is a reserve power.::In a voice barely hiding frustration.:: Or some spectral energy source unknown to our science.
Ada: How about "standard orbit"?
Grallator: Shouldn’t we at least run a quick diagnostic before pushing buttons, Sub‑Commander? :: He gave a faint smile :: Call me cautious, but I like to know whether I’m about to activate life support… or the self‑destruct poetry recital function. :: looked at the console once again:: I know that it says “standard orbit” but nothing is Standard for this ship.
Ada: Alacrity and caution in equal measure, Ensign.
Xiron: I agree a level one diagnostic would not take much time.
V’Nille: I’m with Ensign Grallator here, Commander. We need to know exactly what it is we’re getting into. Rushing into anything won’t help anyone, regardless of what they’re made of.
Grallator: I know there are people down there who need our help. But we’ll be about as useful as a burnt‑out fuse if we blow ourselves up simply because we trusted a ship that hums like it’s plotting against us. And it will take just a couple of minutes more I guess.
Ada: It's suffering, Ensign. And so are our people on the planet below. If it wanted to hurt us, it could have easily by now, in any number of ways. Besides ::she waved the tricorder:: this confirmed the translation of the console.
V’Nille: I understand, Commander, and I am right there wanting to take action now but this ship has given us one surprise after another. Grallator, Xiron, run some diagnostics and see what else you can find. Let’s confirm this ship’s own calculations if we can. Once we’re sure it’s not going to lead to anything catastrophic, then we can push the button
Xiron: There is no way to know how it…the ship will react. Let's hope the benevolence of the ship continues.
Grallator: All right Commander. Will do.
Ignoring the concerns raised and V’Nille’s own order, the one person on the team that was supposed to follow the scientific method decided to abandon all caution and pushed a button. A loud hum punctured the silence not quite as effectively as the ka-thunks that followed it.
Ada: What? That almost sounded like explosive stembolts--
The ship lurched violently, sending both Ada and V’Nille flying. V’Nille’s quicker reactions saved her from getting more than a bump to her helmet from hitting what must have been the captain’s chair. No alarms went off about compromised suit integrity so she assumed everything was fine and pushed herself back to her feet to take stock of the situation.
V’Nille: Ugh. Status report!
Xiron: My suit is good, but it says I have a concussion.
Grallator: Response
Ada: Suit integrity holding, but I have some broken fingers. What the hell happened?
V’Nille looked out of the window to see the faint tinge that was a telltale sign of hitting the upper atmosphere as well as a long cylindrical object studded with consoles, twisted gangways, and other places where it had formerly been connected to the ship.
She stepped over to the console, which now showed a new trajectory for the ship.
V’Nille: Well, if my eyes don’t deceive me, I daresay a piece of the ship has been launched into the atmosphere and our ship’s own trajectory has been changed due to the machine’s meddling. ::grimly:: I need information about the ship’s status. Now.
Xiron: It looks::winching she started again.::It looks like a section of the engineering hull has detached and is falling out of orbit. I will try to plot its descent.
V’Nille gestured dramatically at Xiron for effect, as if to nonverbally announce “See? I was right!”
Grallator: Response
Ada: I don't know, I don't know! Some kind of... Wait, do you feel it? The ship is different now. And that ::she motioned toward the viewscreen:: feels like the ship did.
The Caitian looked up and shrugged. Her tapping on the console to try to bring up anything other than a blinking icon and a plotted trajectory that put the ship firmly into the planet’s surface.
V’Nille: Different or not, the reality is that helm control doesn’t seem to be responding anymore. Xiron, Grallator, any luck?
Xiron: The derelict, rather our section of the derelict is deorbiting. We will be entering the upper mesosphere in minutes.
Grallator: Response
Ada: It used me? Tricked me to release it?
Another klaxon sounded, one that V’Nille was now expecting. It was the alarm signaling the ship’s impending doomed dive.
Xiron: We need to get the thrusters back online. Maybe the deflector, hell a cargo bay to vent to space anything to push the ship higher.
V’Nille: You work on that. I am going to try to get in touch with the ship.
Grallator: Response
V’Nille: =/\= V’Nille to Chin’toka. Can you hear me? =/\=
Callahan: =/\= Response =/\=
V’Nille: =/\= Wonderful. It looks like our communications were restored. Where’s the Captain? =/\=
Callahan: =/\= Response =/\=
As he spoke, V’Nille finally got something different out of the console. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t the ship’s navigation controls. It was just a bigger window showing the trajectory of the object that was ejected. She suspected that it had been the ship’s “brain”.
V’Nille: =/\= I see…. Are you tracking the object that the derelict ship just ejected? It looks like it’s going to hit where that weird signal we were tracking is coming from. My team will continue to try to get this ship to not hit the planet, so… let the Captain know. Good luck! =/\=
Callahan: =/\= Response =/\=
V’Nille chuckled as the channel went dead. She stepped away from the console and looked around the bridge for the others, pointedly ignoring the Vulcan priestess announcing that they would burn before it walked away.
V’Nille: Not to be the one to state the obvious here, but this ship is going to hit the planet with us on it if we don’t do something about it. Tell me we have good news.
Ada/Xiron/Grallator: Response
She sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment.
V’Nille: That’s not good news, but sure, anything helps. There has to be a way to override this lockout.
Ada/Xiron/Grallator: Response
V’Nille hummed and considered what she was being told while looking at the console that was still taunting her with this ship’s imminent demise.
V’Nille: Go for it. Worst case scenario, we need this ship to avoid any population centers because I have the feeling our host was not gracious enough to include that possibility in its calculations.
Ada/Xiron/Grallator: Response