Ensign T’Fearne - Skyfall
teayl.thorn
((Exterior —Tether Terminal Outskirts, Proxima Sigma IV))
T-minus 86 Hours to Impact
The Vulcazoid security officer had done her best to land the shuttle next to the Tether Terminal, but the structure was large and the landing team on Proxima Sigma IV had to spend the last hour traversing the exterior of the building, heading to the arrivals and departures for passengers, passing through the industrial transport and storage warehouses, many building collapsed or crushed by fallen debris, their cargo and contents spilling out haphazardly.
They had made it close to the arrivals lounge entrance of the Terminal but had to take detours around debris from the station that made the tricorders shriek about the radiation levels leaking from the fallen debris. T’Fearne wondered what could have been done to the orbital receiving station to rip half of it from the thermosphere and render it so highly radioactive. She would have classified it as an “Engineering Problem” and promptly stopped thinking about it, but something made her keep turning the problem over in her mind. The details of how this damage was wrought were still unknown. Until she had discovered the means, the motive or the cause of the event she wouldn’t be satisfied.
Just then the Tricorder in her hand gave a near-silent haptic alert. There was an accompanying sound, but the frequency was very low, possibly out of hearing of the others. The tricorder identified another increased radiation zone.
T’Fearne: I’m detecting a radiation spike ahead between us and what looks to be the main ingress to the Terminal. The readings don’t look too bad. Should we continue through it and Doctor Syrex can fix our DNA after the mission or do we have time to find a way around it?
She framed the area with a gesture and looked around to see if their devices synced the hazard on their devices.
Syrex: I’ll be honest, I’d rather you just didn’t damage your DNA in the first place.
T’Fearne’s lips twitched in a slight grin as she remembered their conversation just a few hours ago at the Awards ceremony.
oO You keep us patched up, and I’ll try and prevent us from getting injured in the first place. Oo
The helm’s officer turned and gave the chief a wide-eyed look.
O’Connor: Are you s…
Kristy cut in with her steady Earth-flavoured southern drawl.
Carpenter: Mah authorization code should be there now. Pair your implant, Syrex, but you sing out the second it starts feelin' weird. That's an order. And I say...we have to go through it. Our inoculations should keep us pretty-
Kirsty paused mid-sentence as a sudden unnatural silence fell in the air around them. The soft whirring of what passed for local fauna went silent. Even the wind seemed to pause.
The Chief looked up. T'Fearne followed her gaze—and froze.
A shadow appeared in the lavender sky, unnatural and growing fast. T’Fearne’s mind struggled to process what she was seeing.
A fractured chunk of the receiving station, massive and jagged, spiralled through the upper atmosphere. PS4’s gravity had claimed it, dragging it down like a wounded behemoth. A white-hot flare burst across the sky as it punched into the troposphere.
BOOM
The tricorders screamed.
There wasn't much time.
Kirsty's voice snapped like a whip crack, and she darted forward powerfully, fists tight on her harness, boots churning dust into the air.
Carpenter: MOVE MOVE MOVE.
They ran.
T’Fearne exploded into movement—light-footed, phaser rifle clutched tight, her pack thumping rhythmically against her spine. She closed the gap with the chief but slowed enough to match Kirsty’s burdened pace, eyes focused on any dangers ahead of them and reading the data coming into the tricorders.
O'Connor: We are on the edge of its trajectory. It’s breaking apart but…pieces are gonna drop right on…
Syrex: Save your breath for respiration lieutenant, we can chat when we’re safe.
T'Fearne::: Yelling over shoulder:: The debris just crossed into the planet's troposphere. Impact in… one-hundred fifty-six seconds. Mark.
She cast a glance back to check the position of the rest of the team. The chief was beside her, the helm’s officer behind and then Alyndra bringing up the rear, pelting along behind the group. She didn’t need to say it, the data was screaming on all their devices, but they were all running hard.
Carpenter: RESPONSE
O'Connor: Kristy, we can’t out run this. We’re not gonna…
Syrex: Not making it isn’t an option lieutenant. We HAVE to make it.
T'Fearne::: clipped shout:: Impact zone expanding. Fragmentation increasing.
Carpenter: Response
O'Connor: Wait a minute. Stop.
Behind her, T’Fearne heard O’Connor abruptly skidded to a halt in the street, breath ragged, cursing under it.
Syrex: If you’ve got an idea, please for the love of whatever it is you believe in, get on with it.
T’Fearne slowed, feeling a wave of emotion swamp her across what could soon become their killing field, frustration, anxiety, determination, emotions coming strongly in this heightened situation. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she turned, holding position.
Carpenter: Response
O'Connor: Alright then we’ll try something else. Go on, keep moving. I can’t run and control this at the same time. This is gonna be close but if this works I’ll be fine.
From the distance the shuttle surged into the sky, a sleek shadow splitting the haze. Its engines screamed, then steadied, and its nose pitched toward the falling debris.
The Sojourn opened fire.
Syrex: I’m not leaving you behind Lieutenant! You say it’s gonna work, we’ll work with it.
T'Fearne::: shouting over wind:: Fourty seconds to impact.
If O’Connor and Alyndra were staying—so would she. T’Fearne darted back towards the Lieutenants, standing exposed and vulnerable. She lifted her phaser rifle and sighted upward at the tumbling mass in the sky. She didn’t fire—her weapon was too small. But she stood ready.
O’Connor/Carpenter: Response
Twin phaser beams lanced through the sky from Sojourn, cutting into the largest chunk of metal barreling toward them. But it wasn’t enough. The blast sliced it in pieces—but turned the wreck into a maelstrom of molten shrapnel.
Jagged pieces—like knives from the heavens, the precursors of what was to come—began raining down around them, crushing and ricocheting off the street and kicking up red dust from the earth.
Syrex: TAKE COVER!
T'Fearne: Activate emergency energy shield! Now!
Activating her own, T’Fearne saw a shimmer as the emergency blue personal forcefield activated and encased her. She could feel her heart beating hard against her ribs as razor rain pelted around her sparking off the forcefied.
O’Connor/Carpenter: Response
The Sojourn stopped firing. Ian switched tactics.
A low hum filled the air. The shuttle’s reverse tractor beam came online. Graviton fields surged like a rising tide, sweeping out in waves of blue and white. It caught debris mid-air, yanking it sideways in arcs of energy.
Syrex: Is everyone alright? Any injuries? Oh, and good thinking, Ian.
A few more pieces of the razor rain continued to fall, too small for the shuttle to repulse. T’Fearne reached the others and kept her shield up.
T'Fearne: I am unharmed, Lieutenant. :: nodding to O’Connor:: That was impressive. The first round back on the Ronin’s on us.
Syrex/O’Connor/Carpenter: RESPONSE
A few last pieces of debris pinged harmlessly off their shields.
The emergency shield was draining the power of her tricorder, but T’Fearne kept it activated and stepped forward, eyes on the now-visible terminal entrance ahead, smoke curling in wisps across the street from fallen chunks cooling molten slag.
T'Fearne: The radiation field’s thinned a little. We have a path.
She re-slung her weapon and went to Kirsty, offering to take the gear for her for the last leg of the journey into the Terminal.
Syrex/O’Connor/Carpenter: RESPONSE
((Interior —Outer Concourse, Tether Terminal, Proxima Sigma IV))
T-minus 85 Hours, 53 Minutes to Impact
The outer concourse had clearly once been a thoroughfare for thousands—a glittering artery of transit. Now it was a tomb of shattered glass and twisted steel. Faded banners of Alpha Sigma and Proxima Sigma rival sports teams of some sort hung from broken support beams, flapping softly in the hot breeze that whispered through the breaches in the structure.
Their boots squeaked against the white ceramic tile powdering it in red dust. Steam hissed from a fissure in the ceiling overhead. A distant klaxon moaned somewhere deep in the transit building.
Despite the damage near the entrance to the structure, further into the Terminal looked in better condition. T’Fearne deactivated her personal shield with a soft hiss and exhaled slowly, forcing herself to unclench. She didn’t realise until that moment how tightly she’d been wound.
T'Fearne: The building seems stable, with less damage further in. Should we try and aim for the Tether? See if it is still operational.
Syrex/O’Connor/Carpenter: RESPONSE
[Tags, You're it! / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14