Things were busy on the command deck of the ISS Telthani. The command deck was a large round room situated in the most heavily fortified section, the dead center of the station, directly above the central engineering section that supplied gravity, heat, life support, and power. It was also directly below the main hydroponics section, which kept the air on the station (mostly) fresh.
In it's day, ISS Telthani was a decent, if stock, station. A solid Class D with some luxuries allowing some Class C functionality, allowing repairs of small craft up to 500 tons. Over the last four and a half centuries, however, it's run down into a solid E station with some spikes toward D. Only 2 of the original 8 tugs are still operational, and Beta was offline as often as it was functional.
There were two shuttles working still, Maria Bloodmoon, a standard Auriga class cargo shuttle with dozens of hull patches and a wonky port engine, and Morialis Dawn, a Hawk class relay boat. The Dawn had been the system relay boat and emergency courier, assigned by Solaris Central Navy command. The Maria was just one of the original 6 shuttles assigned to Telthani Orbital.
When it was in it's heyday, the command deck would have been a tightly secured area, with all the hub-bub currently going on in it taking place in one of the four executive holo-rooms. But those hadn't worked in anyone's memory, all had been cannibalized to keep the Command Center's main Holodisplay working. But the Telthani Navy First Fleet (all 23 officers and 72 enlisted personnel) had long sense stopped worrying all that much about operational security on the old tub. The biggest concern was whether they could keep Alpha Quad pressurized, or if it would need to join Delta as unpressurized and unused, reducing the station to half it's original size. Of course, that was more of a long term concern than an immediate concern, Alpha had been acting up and losing one seal after another every few months for the last 3 years. It was a matter of time before it became more expensive to continue to repair than write off. But that decision was several years away at least.
Currently displayed on the central holodisplay was the main reason for the big hub-bub. Telthani itself floated in mid air, occasionally glitching and flashing as the holodisplay had minor calculation or display issues. The High Council had finally approved a highly detailed planetary and near orbit scan. The stations main radar and lidar systems had taken months to get up and running at sufficient capacity to handle the scans. The gravitics had taken even longer, and enough credits to make even the High Council scream like gelded peyalizards. But it was necessary.
Six years ago, the sky had brightened to the point where sunglasses needed to be worn at night for nearly a week. Gamma 2 Velorum, a massive and unstable Wolf-Rayat star 446 light years away, had gone supernovae in a spectacular burst that had bathed the solar system in ionizing radiation, tachyons, and enough light to outshine the sun for several days, visible even during the daytime at the poles. This had, of course, answered the long sought question of what happened to Telthani's warp point.
The resulting massive solar storm that was kicked off by the event caused massive disruptions to sattelite communications and the orbital station. The mothballed 'fleet' (all 3 ships) of freighters in the planet's L5 point was bombarded by meteorites and other debris kicked up by the solar storm from their own sun, which had twitched at the sudden onslought of gravitic lensing and radiation.
It had taken almost two years to get things back under control, and another four to rebuild the station's systems to be able to do a full detail system scan. The system scan was necessary after the solar storms to make sure nothing had been sent into a spiraling fall that would result in an extinction level event on the planet. Nobody wanted a 20 mile long meteoroid hitting the planet if they could help it.
Viktoria Ceres had been being a junior instructor for the last four years, there'd been a massive uptick in applications for the Navy, and with so much of the Navy personnel (2/3rds) being 50 or older, the Navy had felt it was worth the cost of having an actual four year training session. Two thirds of the applicants ended up washing out, but that still gave the navy a good shot in the arm of new blood, allowing some of the older members to retire. Currently, she'd been tasked with hauling the High Council's representative, a Noble, one Lady Annara Utoxier-Lee and her two body guards up and down to the station as needed.
Annara had been tasked with watching to make sure the Navy wasn't wasting money, and that only the bare minimum necessary was spent to do the job right. That last part was, it had been stressed, far more important than the minimum part. Nobody wanted to become extinct over some penny pinching, not after how bad it had been for those first two years after the novae had bloomed. Now it was down to just being a large red pucker in the night sky, washed out by day.
There had been several expeditions out to the old warp point location, to see if maybe the massive storm had restored it to function, but they'd been a waste of fuel, as the warp point had not been found to have returned. Current theories were that the nova had disrupted the local jump point topography permanently, orphaning Telthani in a warpless system.
Through the hub-bub and arguing about priorities over scanning the inner asteroid belt or the outer asteroid belt first, a red light began to flash and a small but annoying buzzer cut through the discussions.
Dame Commodore Martha Elcore McTavish sighed. "Ensign Talliers, unless that's a warning of instant destruction, turn off the audible and get someone on it." Dame Commodore McTavish was a wizned old woman in her late 80's, who walked with a hunch from her bad back. However, her gray eyes were still clear as day, and her mind sharp enough to flay the flesh from any uppity Noble or over exitable recruit she happened to deign to take apart. Fortunately for Talliers, she was not in an overly bad mood today.
Ensign Talliers, an earnest young man who'd been on station less than two months was busy punching at buttons. "Yes ma'am, I'm trying, but I don't recognize the response code... It's not collision warning, it's not life support, not engineering... it's coming from the gravitics subsystem.."
McTavish sighs. "Ah, yes, and I doubt they covered that in the University." She flashes a wry grin at Viktoria. "Not that they should waste time on that, we only get it up and running every century or so. If you'll excuse me, Lady Utoxier-Lee? Once upon a time, in my misspent youth, I was assigned to that very seat, and Commodore Alquari strapped me to it for 12 hours a day until I could identify every error the system could generate. It's only been 60 years, so I might remember how to dig up the error." The woman stood up from her chair with stiffness, even in the station standard 0.75 Standard G (SG). Rumor had it she hadn't left the station for 20 years, and probably would retire and/or die on it. The woman shuffled over to help Talliers identify the error.
Discussions began again in earnest between Lady Utoxier-Lee, Councilor Minkotha on the comm link, and Dr. Miliccent Kandrahar of the University about prioritization of targets for scans.
Ten minutes later, the communications links to the High Council and University snapped off with no warning, and Telthani's image vanished from the holo-display with such suddeness and near synchronicity that for a moment most of those on the deck thought a system failure had occured, especially since the insistant steady buzz had gone away at the same time.
McTavish moved with alacrity she hadn't shown in years, as she moves she points to the entrance to the command deck. "Ceres! Seal that door! If anyone tries to enter or leave, you are authorized to shoot them immediately! This station is now under Command Alpha protocol, all communications are sealed." She stabs down hard on the comm button on her command chair as she sits down again with a wuff. "Security! Ableson, all hands on deck. Evacuate and seal the communications room. Shoot anyone who tries to enter it. Secure both shuttles, shoot anyone who tries to take them without my express order directly to you via vid-link. Move!" Two other navy recruits snap to attention as the Commodore declares the equivalent of Martial Law. They pull their sidearms and immediately begin to scan everyone present, especially the armed bodyguards who now find themselves in a target rich environment.
"Yes but the cost of a second analysing run on the data can be added to the Micort computer company's obligation to the project. They agreed to that 2 years a go when they got the new network contract, so that cost can be..."
The line gos dead, as McTavish starts barking orders to place the whole station on lock down. The lady Annara sat waited until she had a chance to talk. She was shocked but McTavish had been running the show up here for over 20 years, what ever had made her call lock down was bad. That did no worry her what did was the guns pointing her way. Was this a millitey cou? What was needed now was level head, in a room full of guns one rash move and it would be a blood bath. If only... Well she did not have the skill for that.
Deal with the guns 1st looking at the others and then McTavish the lady Annara says.
"Now I know no one will do any thing rash. Commodore McTavish will have a logical explication for placing the station in lockdown is that not right, Commodore. So I think before any one dos any thing rash. We best let her do her job and wait until she has dealt with ever the emergency is."
She stays seated and composed, talking to give her body guards time to asses the situation.
"So Commodore are you able to tell me what has brought about this turn of events?"
Ceres stood with arms behind her back. It was good to be back at the station - even just as a glorified taxi driver. Her charge was sitting across the room, discussing politics and costs. *Yawn!* Not her cup of tea. She looked around in the room, and glanced at the clock. McTavish seemed to recognize me still - so that is good. Looking across the room once more, she suppressed the urge to yawn. Her mind drifted and, as had become usual the last month, it drifted to that ticket. The darned thing ... She hadn't thought much of it - her family wasn't the gambling sort, so her brothers girlfriend had bought her the ticket as a gag. Sort of. She'd left it with her parents but found it again a few weeks later. When she opened it ... She had done the math. If she worked until she was 70, and retired, the ticket would still eclipse her retirement grant ...
With a blink, she snapped back as McTavish barked her order. Quickly she dashed to the door. With keycard in one hand she locked it while her other hand fiddled with the safety on her large bore SMG. While the pie was almost wide enough to accept shotgun slugs, the charge was woefully underpowered - so it shouldn't pierce the walls. In theory. Besides, the rounds was frangible anyhow. With an ominous buzz the targeting apparatus came online, the red dot pointed at the floor. Spinning around, she grabbed the gun with both hands and flipped the switch to extend the stock and assumed the proper ready stance. She glanced between the Nobles guards and the Commodore, torn between a nagging worry that they would do something dumb - and curiosity as what calamity had befallen them. She hadn't gotten any good look at the arms the grunts carried, but she doubted they had been allowed to carry on much more then a token sidearm. And they couldn't really go anywhere either.
Instead she focused on the more important question. Gravitronics ... Hmh.. Despite what the good Commodore thought, they actually learned a bit about it at the University. What would the station have for an alarm - that would be related to that ... She pondered - then it hit her. Butterflies appeared in her stomach. A military station would of course have an alarm for unauthorized jumps! There was atleast a dozen more plausible things that would trigger an alarm - but noone that would provoke such a reaction from the Commodore. Please don't be a signal malfunction ... she silently begged to whatever benevolent entity that clearly watched over her - and eagerly awaited McTravish announcement.
One of Lady Annara Utoxier-Lee's bodyguards lurks in her shadow. He stands relatively tall and lean with short-cropped brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Even if you did not notice the flak jacket that has been tailored into his dark-colored, custom three-piece business suit, an auto pistol holstered under his left arm is fairly obvious, almost as if he wants people to know what danger lurks.
Vathan calmly watches the events unfold. He has been through his share of crises both real and simulated.
Bodyguard. The only thing this bodyguard will face today is perishing from boredom, I think. At least the money is good.
The skinny, brown-skinned man muses to himself as he lurks in a relxed pose slightly obscured by shadows. Yet secretly, he is fascinated, peering over dials and instrument readings only half of which he understands. For a person with his particular skills, and background, there is nothing quite like walking into the lions den and managing to make it look like they belong there. Not to mention the thrill of being in space for the very first time.
Eh, it is a shame they do not take people of my caliber here. Their loss.
When the alarms start, his body tenses and he starts to go for his hidden body pistol by force of habit. But then he stops.
What have we here, some excitement after all?. He fakes disinterest and leans against the wall again, but to the trained eye his body is tense.
Vathan is fairly certain that McTavish is on the razor's edge at the moment, and that half the room is confused. The people who don't seem to be confused are the ones with the guns, who all seem very prepared to open fire. Vathan is about 98% certain this isn't a drill.
McTavish looks at Lady Annarra. "Not for..." She looks at a display on her chair's arm. "...38 minutes and 12 seconds." She says calmly. "Until that time, this station will remain silent and dark, per standing High Council Orders."
McTavish is activating the station armaments.
For the next forty minutes, there is no talk at all from anyone in uniform. Tallier continues to stay pale as he watches something on his screen (again, with the privacy screen up).
Finally, Tallier swallows. "Confirm contact, visual received."
The holo-display suddenly flickers to life, and an image of a ship appears. The image is only partially three dimensional, indicating it's a computer approximation of 3D based on a 2D image.
At first glance, it looks like an extremely odd design... but then the image clarifies, and it's obvious the ship has had massive damage, a majority of the ship is gone, but it's engines are firing at maximum. There's no debris coming off it, meaning it's likely this didn't happen in transit.
Tallier's voice is high pitched as he continues. "Reading four hundred and twelve gravity acceleration, course plot indicates 113 by 182 by 14. On current course and acceleration the vessel will leave the system in 6 days, 12 hours, and 14 minutes. Reverse plot and gravitics indicate the ship appeared from a warp point at solar coordinates -132 by 14 by 87 by 39.28 minutes." The ensign punches at a console. "Warp point placement 238,382 kilometers from Rovanna warp point."
McTavish nods, watching the ghost ship on the screen. "Well boys and girls, we're not alone anymore. Although, there won't be anyone left alive on that ship. With that much damage, there's no way the inertial compensators are working. Which means anyone aboard is paste on the walls." She pushes a button on her command chair. "Mr. Abelson, you will allow Ensign Tallier entrance to the communications room, and only Ensign Tallier." She looks at the ensign. "You will open a secure channel to the High Council, and pipe it to the command deck. You will use cypher Alpha 12 Theta Pegasai. The system will tell you that cypher doesn't exist. Ignore the error and punch the connection through anyway. You won't be able to monitor it once it's active." She nods at Ceres. "Ensign Tallier has permission to leave the command deck. Ensign Tallier, you are to talk to no one, not even to say hi or sorry."
The Ensign nods and quickly leaves the command deck.
Based on the numbers read out, the ship is coming nowhere near the planet or station, it's actually heading toward deep space.
Good
Lady Annara thought to herself, as she noted both Vathan ad Fernan staying calm and collected. She had not been 100% about Fernan, the Company's HR report on him left a lot to be desired. They had not recommended his use. But Vathan had said he had skills and ability's that would they needed. Lady Annara trusted Vathan with her life, a life he had saved more than once. So Fernan had joined her personal protection detail. The big man had been right. The Smooth talking Fernan had been a asset from day one. Now he showed it again. Both he and Vathan keeping their cool wile being ever ready. She notes the Pilot that had taken them up,
Well trained, did not faultier for a moment"
She trolled the memerys of the files she read before heading up.
Viktoria Ceres, Pilot, wasted here that one"
All the wile she was thinking this she was looking at the Commodore.
Come on tell me whats going on Commodore, the more I know the better, so start spilling.
Then she spilled and Annara had to take a moment in Shock, after 450 years this was a bit of a shocker. A ship a ship from outside the system. The implications where staggering, quickly she worked out the main probabilistic scenarios.
"Thank you Commodore and I can see why you wanted the Lock-Down. From your assessment then its not hostile. Also I take it that the communications restrictions you believe this station is the only place that has detected this ship. As this station is the location of the systems only long range space craft. I have no doubt that the Security council will order a salvage mission to it"
let that sink in a moment then
"I know a few of them and the chance that it has a functional jump drives would be to compelling to miss."[/b]
Vathan calmly tracks the sailors with the guns. He listens to the commodore, in order to avoid becoming infected by her stress. He shares calming looks with Annara and Fernán, so they don't over-react.
When the new ship materializes, a deep breath escapes his lips as his deepest dreams are touched. He continues to survey the scene to detect any immediate danger.
Then she added,
"I have a feeling its just the one derelict ship and there is no other danger. I also have a strong sense the Security council will order me on the Salvage mission. They will say I have... "talents"" they want deployed."
She sounds resined when she says this, then adds
"o and of course my security team here and"
The she looks over at the Pilot by the door,
"I feel you maybe coming with us."
Freaky almost sounding Clairvoyant but then again, could all be just plain logic. Having been around Annara for a wile the others there may be used to how fast her mind seemed to work. She seemed to have an ability to know things faster than most. A clue could be the odd Diplomatic insignia on her station Jump suit. It pointed at specialist training of some kind.
"but then again I could be wrong, feelings can be like that"
Commodore McTavish laughs. "Oh, I'm sure they'll send you. But not because of any talents, or because you're the best for the job. You're already in the information loop. And as to Ltn. Ceres, I would applaud your 'talents', but given she is one of only 3 personnel rated with the Dawn, and that I am not going, and neither is Master Chief Abelson, due to positions, it's not a stretch that she's the one to pilot the ship." She nods at Ceres. "Ltn., request a replacement from the Master Chief, and then prep the Dawn for launch, I suspect that after the High Council get's done having kittens, they'll request a survey and salvage." She looks at her plot, and snorts. "As to salvage, that's extremely unlikely. According to Gravitics, her drives flickered out eight minutes ago. Almost certainly, she's out of fuel and ballistic given how she stuttered at the end. Either that or her engines packed in. Either way, we won't be able to get aboard and slow her down or redirect her. At her current speed, if we launch within the next 3 hours, we can probably get the Dawn to match speeds and trajectories with her for as much as 8 hours, sometime next week." She shares a look of mild amusement with Ceres, as laymen's knowledge of orbital mechanics shows through on Annarra's part. "Make sure you have enough food for a full crew on the Dawn for up to four weeks drawn from stores. I want at least a week's cushion on that, in case she packs in a drive trying to keep up with that ship."
Lady Annara stayed quiet as commodore talked. She has undermined the commodore that had been crass of her. The commodore needed to save face now, millinery types always found it hard being told what they are going to do before they do it. She would not make that mistake again. Let the commander rule her ship.
The good news was she had got the response she wanted. They would be going to the ship. That's all that mattered, what they found on it in 8 hours was not key.
It would fall into three main types, technical data or technology itself or information from the outside world. Knowing now the ship could not be stopped that was all that could be open to them. She need to know one more thing.
"Commodore I am fully aware of my and everyone here's expendability when it comes to the grater good of our home world. I am under no illusions about that, birth right or not. . So please don't think putting on graces. I was just stating facts as they seemed to me. Now that being said. Need to ask, not being skilled in reading you systems, the scale of that craft, is it of a size to hold lesser vessels?"
And before the commodore can answer Annara, Vathan clears his throat and says, "With all due respect, ma'am. Lady Annara is neither trained nor equipped to spacewalk or conduct a salvage mission, or whatever we would call going over to that unknown spaceship. If she is to go, how do we overcome those issues?" Training and equipment were how the army prepared for missions. While an unbelievable opportunity, the thought of Annara space-walking and conducting a salvage mission seemed ludicrous to him. The thought that he would be going has not crossed his mind yet.
The commodore raises an eyebrow at Vathan. "Army." She snorts, but there's a grin as well. Navy and Army had always had a traditional rivalry, usually good natured. "I doubt Ltn. Ceres will let Lady Annarra anywhere near that ship. And despite Lady Annara's assurances of her expendable nature, as far as I am concerned, not a single person here is expendable." She glares at everyone on the command deck. "There's been too many damned credits spent on your training for any of you to be expendable, so you lot remember that. Your life is not your own, it belongs to Telthani. You do not have the luxury of being expendable. We don't have the bodies to replace you. We're too small, so do your job, and do it smart."
The commodore had been mildly annoyed with Lady Annara previously, but no more than she had been mildly annoyed with everyone on the High Council for the last year or so. Now however, she is cold as ice.
---------------------------
Elsewhere on the station, in the engineering section.
Doctor Ziirkaa had been working with Senior Chief Mav'Buyan when a security officer still green around the edges had shown up and locked the door. The guard was wearing ballistic vests and a helmet, and had his SMG cradled in both hands. "Sorry, but the station just went into lockdown. I'm afraid you're all confined to engineering until the Commodore releases you from lockdown. I've orders to shoot anyone attempting to leave, so please don't approach within 3 feet of the door." He says, sounding nervous but determined.
A second security officer, this one a dusky skinned woman also in combat gear, enters the opposite door and also seals it. "Petty Officer Reynaldis. Central Engineering core secured." She says into her communicator with the same mix of nervousness and determination.
Doctor Agamemnon Ziirkaa glances up only briefly from his work. "Chief, I am unclear. Are they protecting the rest of the station from us... or us from the rest of the station?"
Smiling, Ziirkaa leans back and strokes his mustache. Perhaps something interesting has finally broken down; I have had about enough of recompiling the life support alarm back up subroutines.
The Chief shakes her head. "Neither, something's up, and they're making sure nobody does anything stupid." She looks at the monitors. "It's not a station emergency, so it's political. Maybe someone attempted to blow up the High Council."
One of the tech's fights off a giggle.
Lady Annara looks over at Vathan, He was doing his job. He knew a lot more about what was going on here so she kept quit. Trusting him do what was keeled to keep them alive.
Pet talks for the troops aside from the commandant, Annara knew full well just where the real value was here. That ship and what was on it mattered much more to powers that than their lives or any amount of credits. Their world was falling behind, falling into darkness and barbarism. If it was ever going to lift itself out of the dirt it was sinking into it needed to rejoin the grater stellar community. To do that it needed a working jump point and ships that could jump. If she could be one of the ones to do that the prestige and power for the family would be tremendous. It hit her, this was that once in a lifetime chance, that moments when lives pivot. She felt a shiver go down her spine in expectation. Well lets get this going. The commander understood troops but had little time or understanding of ruling politics. There was a reason the council had put in place the protocols she had just In acted. Power loved control, members of houses new that more than most. The commanders did understand that, and what she and others would be thinking once news of this passed on. But right now....
Her voice as cold and matter of fact like as the commanders she says.
"Three hours to get ready commandant, understood. What preparations do those here need to undertake in that time.?"
The wait was killing her. Considering what McTravish was doing - her guess was probably somewhere in the neighbourhood of right. Had it been anything but a ship - why would we need weapons AND silence? An inert threat would be announced at once ... Standing still and maintaining a professional stance became harder and harder. But she knew she wouldn't get anything from the Commodore before she decided to speak - that would be like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. So she waited ...
Visual contact! Her eyes jumped to the holodisplay, instantly glued to the image. For a moment, disappointment struck - there would be no welcome, no returning brethren. But if there were - they would have opened comms as soon as they entered the system... Should have figured! The rapid flow of emotion dashed past a short bout of relief (there was no invasion fleet either) and landed solidly into wonder.
Numbers and charts rushed through her mind and when the command was given to let Tallier leave, she almost missed it. Almost. Quickly she flashed her keycard at the lock and let him out.
She replied with a confused blink to the Nobles comment, but didn't do more then nod. Perhaps. Probably even! The butterflies in her stomach danced even wilder then before.
When the next order came, she let out a mental scream of joy. Outwards, she struggled to keep her professionalism but atleast managed to keep it together. "Yes Commodore!" She paused only to take quick measurements of Annara - while an planned spacewalk would be unlikely, it would be foolish to not bring Vac-suits for every crewmember.
Her heart still racing, she turned to leave. Mental checklists were already forming, and she hoped half the stuff she could use still worked.
McTavish opens her mouth to answer Annara, when the ship, now growing smaller as it coasts away from the ancient deep space relay it had been picked up by suddenly rapidly shrinks, to take up a tiny corner of the holo-vid. In it's place a full 3D representation of the High Council hall. High Councilor Elect Milvan Kilpatrick, a flushed and chubby man with bright red hair and a florid complexion looks oddly drawn, and pale, for once. "Commodore McTavart, this had better not be a drill. We've cleared and sealed the Council hall, and ordered everyone evacuated per protocol, no living beings within 100 meters of the building, with Army units armed with orders to shoot to kill if anyone breeches the perimiter."
McTavish nods. "Contact confirmed. Runaway ship, appeared from what is probably our wayward Rovanna warp point. We have both gravitic and visual confirmation. Sending you time compressed sensor output." One of the naval officers suddenly bursts into activity, probably alerted via her screen earlier to be ready.
The high council takes in the video with a gasp and a mixture of excitement and nervousness. High Councilor Miranda Lee gasps. "My god, it's half destroyed! Did the warp point do that?"
From there, it devolves into nearly 40 minutes of discussion between the Commodore and the Council. McTavish assures them it was almost certainly not the warp point, although beyond that, they can't be sure. Then discussions of what to do, the time window they are working under, and then some bizarre coded discussions involving something called 'Operation Phoenix'. The Commodore makes some comments about Phoenix Alpha being impossible due to the recent solar storm, which draws nods of comprehension and frustration from the High Council. Apparently Phoenix Beta is also a non-starter, although the reason for this is more subtle, with the Commodore simply stating that the damage to the incoming ship making it foolish at best. Finally Phoenix Delta is agreed upon as workable.
During all this discussion of 'Operation Phoenix', the High Councilor's are glued to their data pads. The Commodore occasionally consults hers, but mostly works from her memory.
After that, there's some wrangling over who's in charge of the expedition, which Commodore McTavish firmly squelches, indicating that due to the danger involved, Navy personnel will be in charge, but will consult with civilian representatives. The High Council isn't thrilled with this, but several seem to openly agree, and that ends that.
Lady Annara is assigned to go along as civilian oversight and consultation. She's allowed to bring her two bodyguards, and each of them is allowed 10 kilos of cargo. All are warned this will be at least a 3 week, and possibly 4 week, excursion on the VIP shuttle.
After that, McTavish accepts orders from the High Council to start incubating the eggs and get them ready for hatching. The station is to be kept on a comm blackout other than standard weather alerts, and no one is to board or depart. The ground shuttle will be locked down on the surface, and guarded 24/7.
When the Council signs off, McTavish issues a station wide alert.
"Attention all hands, this is Commodore McTavish. The station is in a lockdown status until further notice. No unauthorized communications for any reason, on penalty of treason. Visitors to the station, that is, non-Naval personnel, are restricted to Gamma Quadrant. If you are not in Gamma Quadrant, you will need to be there within the next 10 minutes. Dr. Ziirka. Lady Annara Utoxier-Lee. Ensign Malveau. Chief Petty Officer Virka..." She rattles off a few more names. "All of you will report to docking bay Delta 4, with no more than 10 kilos of personal equipment. No weapons are to be taken by civilians. That is all, Commodore out."
She turns back to Annara. "I trust that answers most of your questions. I suggest you move now. Master Petty Officer Trager, escort Lady Utoxier-Lee to her quarters, so she may retrieve her property as needed. She may take her body guards or leave them in Gamma, at her discretion. No weapons allowed."
The MPO Nods, and opens the sealed door for Annara and her body guards, giving a stiff but polite half-bow and ushering them out.
Once on the HWK-290, checking it over, you get a private comm from Commander McTavish. She explains you are hereby raised to brevet-Captain for the duration of the mission, and that final decisions rest with you, not the Noble or her body guards. No matter what that august person says, people are not expendable. Get as much information with no loss of life as possible, and then get the ship back here in one piece. Beyond those two requirements, Ceres is to make any decisions she feels she needs to in a time sensitive manner. The commodore will be nearly an hour away by comm, meaning that given the small 8 hour window, it's going to be up to Ceres to make decisions on the spot.
Fernán grumbles under his breath, surrendering his body pistol... but keeps his dagger concealed in a holster, out of habit and mistrust
"Will there be mechanical tools in this shuttle? In jobs like this, there is always need for tools. Many wrenches are very heavy, much more then 10 kilos."
He pauses. "...they do use wrenches on ships like these, right?"
Lady Annara talks when the The High Council ask her about the situation and events. Other than that she offers now views. When project Phoenix came into the discussion she also kept her own council. When it came to who would be in charge to a few shocked faces she agreed with the Commodore. The political discretion was needed here, the Council was split. Time to polecat both sides, Politics in other words. So she told them her logic was this.
"I agree with Commodore McTavish. I do not have the training nor knowledge to asses the risks involved moment by moment from such a technology reliant mission. Only a fully qualified, trained and rated Navy ships captain is able to do that. I know that Commodore McTavish will pick the best one she has for this historic mission. I have every faith in her Judgement on this matter. That being said she would of course carry on in her role as before, civilian oversight and consultation on the behest of the High Council. This would allow two clear lines of reporting to the high Council."
In this way both sides of the High Council would get what they wanted, and things could move on. They did not have much time and wasting it talking was not a good thing to do. They agreed and so it was time to get ready.
Nodding at Commodore McTavish as she talked,
"yes for now Commodore, thank you."
She got up
"I think we are on the same page now, but could I ask as civilian oversight for the Council. My security teams Weapons could they not be placed under lock and key with the Captain. To be used at the discretion of the ships captain. I suggest this because looking at that ship, there is a change would you not agree that it was attacked. If so there may be armed crew or attackers still on it. Having a scrutiny team unarmed when needed may have the high council thinking that a military miscalculation had happened. I would hate them to feel the need to send up here army oversight because of such a miscalculation. But of the weapons where available but safely under the Captains discretion of use."
Politics and politics,
let the full risk land on the hand that takes away.
As she went to the door she stopped at now Captain Ceres.
She offered her hand.
"Congratulations on your Promotion. I have every faith this mission will be successful in your hands and that your new rank will becomes permanent."
Bowing once she then headed to her berth to collect her things.
As the walk she says to Vathan and Gómez,
"I will not order you to come with me, its your call on this. This may be a one way trip. If you decide to come get your things and take what you think you need. This may become exciting"
"This may become exciting":
Is a security line used by her with you.
It means get ready for combat if and when needed on a trip.
McTavish looks thoughtful, and then finally nods. "Very well, I'll have a seaman drop off a secure trunk at your quarters. Ceres will have final word on if and when your people get their weapons back."
She offers her hand to the commodore.
"Understood commodore McTavish, and I sincely hope we all see you again, safe and sound after this trip."
With that she heads of to collect her things.
Ceres quickly makes her way towards the Master Chief, whom also served as a quartermaster. But not so quickly she didn't check that they had been given the order to let her in - she didn't fancy a bullet in the gut on this fateful day! Well inside, she took a deep breath and started rabbling on a long list of equipment, which was quickly scrutinized and added to by the Master Chief himself.
//
When the others got a chance to catch up, Cpt Ceres was standing in the shuttle bay with a checklist in her hand. She looked pale, but determined. "Thank you Lady Annara." she replied with a smile. "You can stash your things in any of the passenger huts - but be careful, there is some equipment being loaded as well."
Lady Annara nods and then moves to the central left side guest cabin.
Keeping out of the way of the crew loading the craft. Once the weapon locker came, she loads it with the her teams arms.
Then unpacks, time was short but she had asked a crew man to bring some water, food packs requested all info on the ship they where heading to in a meme-stick. for her. She then packed away her stuff for the get go. She new the others would sort there own things an knew what to do. Once they set off she would have to start her repost and records. Paper work was always there.
There will be NPCs sent along as well, so the boat will be over establishment (meaning too many bodies) for the trip, but the environmental plant should be able to handle it for a few weeks, but will need a full overhaul on return. People will have to sleep in shifts and share quarters on the trip. Ceres would know this going in. With the passenger quarters, the ship can handle 16 people for the expedition.
A prefab room is being set up in the cargo bay for a field hospital. It's going to take up the section of the hold forward of the port crew cabin, and stretch as far forward as the head of the cargo ramp.
Due to being over establishment, water will have to be rationed, and baths allowed every four days, rather than every other day. Laundry done every other week, rather than weekly.
Vathan prepares what gear he has as ordered and lurks behind Annara staying out of the way of Navy personnel. He always hated observers along during his army field exercises, so he gives them the same respect.
When Annara is settled, he double-checks the Navy equipment to ensure that the best toolkits and sundry equipment are taken, just in case something unfortunate happens. He prepares like one of his month-long guided treks into the wilds without civilization and imagines all of the things that can go wrong. If he finds anything missing, he just asks questions to avoid confrontations, such as "Do you have any of such-and-such that we can bring?"
The lax ne'er-do-well shrugs at the thought of sleeping in crowded quarters. "All my lovers tell me I quote bad poetry in my sleep. If one can live with that, then we shall all get along fabulously." he jokes to nobody in particular.
Dr. Ziirkaa strides toward the ship dourly, carrying his own toolkits. This is what techs and undergraduates are for... he grumbles inwardly. When he reaches the commotion of the Boat Bay he strides confidently to one of the technical seamen or PO's that he has worked with before. "Please see that this dunnage is stowed in cargo A? Please keep it accessible, we will probably need it for whatever we are working on." He drops the case without looking, assuming unthinkingly that his requests will be honored.
Moving through the crowd around the docking hatch, Ziirkaa spots another familiar face. "Ah! Commander Ceres, are you in charge of this rabble? Would you please explain why I have been ordered down here over an intercom, and explain why every corner now exhibits an armed storm-trooper. I thought this was a space station, not a military base."
Ceres glances briefly at Fernán, then blinks and retrieves her comm. "We're going to need one more roll of duct tape, Quartermaster!"
She looks up once more from her checklists when Ziirkaa addresses her. With a smile she looks up and nods. "It's Captain now - atleast for a while. I'm sorry, I hadn't gotten a new uniform yet." She smiles at the doctor. She was well aware of his love of labels - easy identification. "They've spotted a ship - speculated to have emerged from the old jump-point. The sensors pointed in that way atleast. It's a runaway wreck, but we're going to have a look." Her smile blossoms into a full-face exclamation of joy, finally giving voice to the thoughts rushing around in her brain for the last hours. "Biggest event in some odd fourhundred years I reckon. Some inconvenience is worth it!"
Gobsmacked, Ziirkaa stands for a moment as the enormity of what Ceres just said sinks in.
"Extra... Solar... Contact... " blinking he pulls himself back to himself. "Comm.. Captain... May I take the sensor station aboard the Dawn? I think I can pipe in the station sensor feed... please, I... need to see the data." He is nearly shaking with anticipation.
She nods, the giddiness coming to surface at last. "We'll feed the sensor data from the station to the Dawn, we'll need their help to track the ship and make course corrections. But that will have to wait - just make sure you bring everything we might need to get a read of that ship onboard." With a brief apologetic smile, she continues. "I understand it is hard to wait - but we have a tight launch schedule."
Ziirkaa's excitement presses through his supercilious facade as he presses. "but...I can't help plan the expedition without seeing the Data... How far is it, what condition is it in? What's the Delta Vee? Is anyone aboard? Any sign of power? What type of ship is it? Did we pick up a neutrino surge from the Jump?"
He looks at the young Captain with pleading eyes. "You have seen the data, there are a million details that you have, that I do not. The reason I am on this station is that I am one of our planets foremost experts on imperial technology. I need to catch up to where you are now...Someone else can get my underthings. I am only useful to the mission if I have information... Captain."
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She bit her lip - she understood what he was getting at, and she could sympathize with his desire to see this discovery. Finally, she lets out a sigh and nods. "Rush up to Command. They should have whatever data we got there. But be careful to knock - and be back here asap."
"SQUEEEEE!"
The normally over dignified scientist positively glides to the pressure door of the compartment. There he pauses to address the guards, "Captain's given permission for me to go to Command. Please let your armed compatriots know. I would hate to get Lead Poisoning on the way." He nods thanks to Ceres, takes a moment to collect himself and proceeds out the door with his normal gravitas.
I hope he doesn't loose track of time ...
Security does not allow Ziirkaa to leave...
...until they have confirmed with Command that he can proceed to the Command Deck, and also alerted the guards not to shoot him. If he listens closely, he might hear an 'unless he's overly obnoxious' tacked on by Commodore McTavish.
There was a neutrino burst, it was not from the correct location for the Rovanna gate, but it was closer to the Rovanna gate position than it was to where the the Milthana warp point used to be. It's possible it's an entirely new warp point, and possibly even a closed warp point that was not discoverable. Warp points come in three varieties. Open to Open, Open to Closed, and Closed to Closed. Open ends are easily findable with close range gravitic scanners. Closed points you have to either exit from the open end to find, or watch someone emerge to find. Closed to Closed are theoretical warp points, for obvious reasons, since it's so difficult to find them.
The ship was under power when it arrived, but the readings indicate it lost power about an hour after arriving. Or it shut down, one or the other. Visual inspection shows it's a shattered wreck. It's big enough that it would either be a massive superfreighter, or else a military dreadnaught or superdreadnaught. The fact it's so damaged, but still functional, would make Ziirkaa think it's a superdreadnaught. In which case, over 80% of it is missing, or else military designs have radically altered in the last 400 years.
Once told they would be doubling up, Aannra moved her things from the Captain Ceres room. There was no way she would share with the men, and as a noble you had some rites. The Weapons locker was moved as well into the room. The room was bigger, with some moving a second bunk could be placed by the ball head wall. She sort out the Ceres to ask if they could do that.
Vathan steers Fernán to share a cabin across from Lady Annara and the captain. He tries to make it seem coincidental. Unfortunately, he's not very slick, so the selection is obvious to anyone around that they are to bodyguard the noble.
Vathan also sees the quartermaster for a few sets of extra Navy work clothes and toiletries for him and Fernán. He sure didn't pack a month of kit. This mission was planned as a down-and-back.
Lady Annara sees Vanthen and Gomez heading down to the bunk across from her.
"Im sorry Gomez, there is just space for Vathan, the good doctor will have to take that room with Vathan. Please pick a bunk above. There is a Mechanic type, I think it would be good you shared with him."
She's hinting you can find out what's going one with the crew if you bunk with the chatty Mechanic type
"My lady, we will be hot-bunking these cabins. Sharing a cabin will give us a secure location and ensure one of us is awake and ready at all time. " Vathan respectfully questions his employer about something within his expertise. He waits to use the tone of voice that tells her to stop.
She looks at Vathan for a moment,Then she chastised herself.
what was the point of having a head of security if you did't let them do their job, stupid woman.
"I'm doing it again Aren't I Vathan, stepping on your toes."
She smiled and placed a hand on his arm.
"Forgive me please Vathan, undertake what you think is best course of action in this matter. I trust you know what needs to be done."
she stepped back, waiting to hear what he has to say.
She was still young and even with her training she found it hard sometimes not to be bossy.
"No worries. This situation is all very extraordinary. We just need to keep flexible. " Vathan replies.
"I need to unpack my stiff into the Cabin. If you need me Ill be there. Our Weapons are in a locker that was dropped off just now. I and the captain both will have the code for it, just so you know Vathan."
with that she heads back into her and the Captains cabin. She can be seen through the door unpacking her things. Then she closes the door, getting onto the bunk. She straps herself in and closes her eyes.
It comes right down to the wire on the launch window, with less than 8 minutes left in it, the bay doors slide open, and the Dawn is launched out by the magnetic array, flung far enough out that she can engage her thrusters without burning the deck plates.
From there, everyone is either strapped into a chair, or strapped into a bunk, because it's a wild ride. To stay up with the derelict for even a short period of time at it's speed, the small craft has to accelerate up to near the same speed in a very short amount of time.
When it was a new craft, it could generate, safely, 200 Gs. However, currently it's inertial compensator, being over 500 years old and having been repaired repeatedly from parts that were never originally designed to go into it, can only safely handle about 80% of that. The ship's locked at 150 Gs, to leave a safety margin. Nobody wants to suddenly go from 1 gravity to 150 gravity's.
In order to generate the delta V necessary to catch up with the runaway ship, the shuttle has to undergo what is euphemistically called 'Slingshotting', but is actually more along the lines of 'throw myself at a gravity well as hard and fast as I can and hope I miss'. The nearest gravity well is, of course, the planet they are in orbit around.
The shuttle dives as close to the atmosphere as it can without getting deep enough to counter the gravity assist, and then 'bounce' off the atmosphere to climb out of the dive. The ship buffets and bounces, slamming people around as it dives and finally bounces hard enough at the right time to shoot off directly toward the system primary.
Ceres is of course, in the pilot chair, but her only job is to take over if something goes wrong. Orbital slingshots are programmed in ahead of time. In fact, the entire course was slaved over for 3 hours by Commodore McTavish while everything was loaded, her calculations being refined each time a more accurate data dump on the shuttle's readyness and cargo was given.
There follows four days of relative boredom as the ship goes at full maximum speed, gaining even more delta V. Then the ship begins it's suicidal plunge toward the large yellow orb that is it's system's primary. The ship cuts it as close as it can, screaming around the sun in an arcing curve that takes most of an entire shift. During that shift, the temperatures climb steadily, until the interior of the ship is at a balmy 42 Celsius. Rad counters begin to tick over, warning of extended low-level exposure, but non quite get into the danger zone.
Doctor Ziirkaa has been shoving potassium tablets down everyone's throat for two days in anticipation, and continues jamming them down for the next week.
The slingshotting works however, the small ship screams away from the sun in an arcing loop that brings it out half-a-million miles ahead of the runaway derelict. As the ship's course comes into line with the derelict, Ceres sets a timer that displays on every screen on the ship.
00:48:38
9:12:47
The first number indicates the soonest the derelict will be in the shuttle's sensor range, and the second the time it will leave the shuttle's sensor range.
The shuttle is equipped with 4 probes that can be launched from the airlock. But each probe only has a limited fuel and can't accelerate much more than one or two Gs and only for a few minutes. So they'll have to be deployed ahead of the ship. But they also only have about 3 hours of duration once launched. Each can be controlled from the bridge of the ship.
Annara keeps to herself on the trip, letting the crew do their job. She spends her time writing reports and studying.
Once the ship gets close to its destination Annara go's to see Viktoria in the flight deck.
"Captain could you tell me what's our distance to the ship in Km?"
As the trip wears on, Doctor Ziirkaa shares everything he learned from the sensor data with anyone willing to listen... and occasionally with people who aren't interested at all...
"...so it's reasonable to hope that there may be survivors. Since it's such a large craft, there is a small chance that one of the launches was hot, and had a separate Inertial Damper engaged...Oh good you are done. It's a pitty that we have to share one fresher among eighteen of us... or perhaps even an advanced low berth may have protected the occupants..."
"...of more value to the planet would be the astrogation data... if there is an outside chance that we can find a new jump point, even a closed one... we might be able to open it...What? FINE. HERE YOU GO... THAT WILL HELP WITH THE NAUSEA!!!"
"... the energy constant of the gravitational lensing effect... humn? Yes, it is a shame that the commodore took all your weapons... why do you bring that up now?"
To amuse himself during his off time during the four days, Fernán tracks down a crewman (preferably an attractive female ensign, but anyone will do). When he catches the attention of one, he will enquire.
"Señora, I have never been in space before. I understand there is great beauty in the stars, but it is a cold and hard place too. Would you teach this humble landlouper how to properly wear the vacuum suit, so that I may face the emptiness prepared. I would be most grateful for your tutelage on the matter."
On the fifth day, once the action is at hand, he will take his place besides his comrade and his patron, ready for into action.