Lt. Commander Foster - Landing Zone
Jamie LeBlanc
((Main Bridge, MFT Maximum Thrusters.))
Wyn would be the first to admit that he was Starfleet born and raised. Well, almost born. He had moved to a starship sometime around the age of two, and lived on one until he was eleven. Starfleet felt like a second home.
So thinking outside the Starfleet box was difficult for him. But he was determined to try.
Foster: That’s also a good point. If there is a hidden ship out there we need to know where it is, and how to approach. Maybe that’s where the fancy flying comes in?
Ysatch: That's assuming fancy flying doesn't just outright trigger the mines to hone in on us.
sh’Sonora: ::A cocky smile slowly spreads across her face.:: There’s more to fancy flying than high g maneuvers. Yeah, I can do that too, Sir. ::She tightens the grip on the control stick.:: I’ll need a sharp eye on the sensors. I’ll be too busy avoiding the mines.
Foster: If there is another option, I’m all ears. And antennae.
sh’Sonora: No pun intended, Sir.
He cast a glance over towards Mi’sh and grinned. Of course that pun was intended.
Ysatch: If I could get a second set of data from the drone, that could reveal something. =/\= Commander, could you route the raw data from the drone you already launched to my station? I'll mirror my screen to you so you can see what I'm working on. =/\=
McLaren: =/\= I can do that... hang on... =/\=
And for a moment the bridge was silent, everyone waiting in anticipation for Tori’s information to come though. And as the data started to pour in there was a distinct pattern of spikes.
Ysatch: The drone is seeing things from a different angle than us. It's catching different edges of the sensor dead zones than we are. It's missing some we see, but it's also catching some we can't. So if we combine them together, we might get a better picture of the mines' locations.
sh’Sonora: Hmmm… ::She pursed her lips and stroked her chin, her antennae sway as she slips into deep concentration.:: I think I see something.
Foster: Clarify the data as much as you can. People don’t mine something without trying to hide, protect or keep someone from something. ::he paused and looked towards the helm:: what do you think you see?
There was a clear space. A dubiously clear space. Maybe even a suspiciously clear space.
Ysatch: ::gesturing at the ring:: Corridor of safe passage or killing floor, which do you think?
sh'Sonora: ::She claps her hands together.:: Hot gagh! I think we’re onto something! ::She traces a path on the screen, a yellow ribbon forms behind her traced path.:: I think you’re right. It twists a bit, and you have to do a couple of hairpin turns, but they’re loose enough for a small freighter to fly through. I think you’re onto something, Ensign!
McLaren: =/\= Killing floor would serve no purpose... =/\=
Foster: Especially if this is all about commerce. Illicit commerce, but you still don’t earn any latinum if your cargo gets blown to smithereens.
Smithereens. A stupid word he picked up from his Dad. Because his Dad was human and loved old weird human words. Wyn just picked it up from pure habit.
Ysatch: Killing floor doesn't seem right to me, but if I'm wrong ...
sh’Sonora: We’ll be too dead to notice! ::She then turns sheepishly to her superior officer.:: Not that I’d tempt fate or anything, Sir. I can do it. I can weave through that path. Say the word, and we’ll be on the other side of that minefield in five minutes.
Well, there were worse things. Just plain dead was certainly better than a fate worse than death. Wyn could see the morbidly bring side to life.
McLaren: =/\= Wyn... call is yours, but I tend to agree with Tori... that field layout leaves an open lane to the most likely asteroid the Temurians are on. Blockading a trade outpost of any kind would be counter to getting the power cores out there... it should be safe to land there... =/\=
Foster: =/\=We have to meet with the Temurians to gather more data, and if there’s a clear path to them I have to assume its navigable.=/\=
He wondered how a normal freighter would navigate? Then again how did people know where to look. The information trade was probably critical in matters like these and for all he knew the tip to go find the shop might include directions on how to get there. They had to replace that tip with superior sensors.
McLaren: =/\= Im gonna turn my sights toward the planet for the moment... see if we can discover anything there... Ill keep you in the loop. =/\=
Foster: =/\= Sounds good. I’ll reach out when we have landed. =/\=
sh’Sonora: =/\=This is your pilot speaking. Please secure all loose and vital equipment, secure yourselves, and hold onto your butts ‘cause things are about to get interesting in the Tamarian proverb kind of way. Sparrow out.=/\= ::blip:: Just say when, Captain. And seatbelts everyone!
He thought with some amusement that seatbelts should probably be standard on ships. Starfleet tended to put a lot of faith in their inertial dampeners and gravity systems, but sometimes a good old fashioned seatbelt was the best option.
Leaning back he turned towards Mi’sh.
Foster: Alright, take us into the cluster, following the corridor. Destination Asteroid.
Ysatch/sh’Sonora: ?
The strain against the hull was apparent as the ship threaded the corridor, and Wyn admitted that he held his breath for the better part of twenty seconds before he was fairly sure that no mines were going to fly out and try to blow them up.
Foster: So far, so good. Keep her steady.
Ysatch/sh’Sonora: ?
As they approached, the Temurian settlement clarified on the sensors. Several large environmental domes surrounded what appeared to be one large central building comprised of a massive settlement style space ship – one of the large, slow moving colony ships common in inter-generational traveling species. It was surrounded by a fascinating myriad – nearly a garbage pile – of scavenged small ships, shuttles, pieces of ships with the hulls forming shelters and outbuildings and other junk that came together to form an unusual little settlement.
There was landing space to the front and side of the odd settlement.
Foster: That looks like our destination. Mi’sh, find a good place to land and take us down. Tori, send a standard signal announcing our and that we’re here to trade.
Nothing personal, nothing out of the ordinary, just polite commercial business.
Ysatch/sh’Sonora: ?
Foster: We’ll have teams disembarking with the Angry Pidgeon – but we need to dig through that drone data. As we’ve already covered, no one puts mines in a trading area for no reason. I want to know what’s hiding out there.
Ysatch/sh’Sonora: ?
Foster: Yeah, if we can also figure out what triggers the mines without setting them all off, that will only benefit us.
He had a sneaking suspicion that if something or someone was hiding in the mine field, it would be only a matter of time until the MTF had to go say hello. Apprehending Onzion Reence was on their mission list.
Ysatch/sh’Sonora: ?
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tags/tbc
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Lt. Commander Shar’Wyn Foster
Acting Commanding Officer
StarBase 118 Ops / MTF Maximum Thrusters
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0