Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
"UTRINQUE PARATUS"
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,163
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Post by Carl Torek on Mar 3, 2017 0:48:10 GMT
United Federation of Planets Headquarters. Earth Stardate: 2403.0301 – 0040 hrs Federation Council Chamber~ EXTRAORDINARY EMERGENCY MEETING ~ The Ruling Council of the Federation entered the massive council chamber. Around the room, the most Senior Flag Officers, Diplomats, and Representatives of hundreds of Federation worlds waited, unsure of the reason they had been summoned on such urgency.
"Council members ...." The President began without preamble, as a view of the Sector in which Star Base forty Seven was situated, appeared on the large view-screens, "We received information from our long-range observatory in the Betreka Sector, in which the Nebula located in that region, stable for over one billion years, ignited yesterday .... The resulting explosions, on a scale never before witnessed, has thrown Star Base Forty Seven from her stationary position. All contact was lost at zero three forty one hours this morning. As of that time, all efforts to approach the Base were fruitless as the space-borne fire surpasses three point eight four light years in diameter, with the Star Base at its epicentre ......."
"They are lost to us ?" the Andorian Ambassador asked, as the room erupted in a cacophony of questions.
"We have no way of knowing their fate until such time as a vessel can safely enter the area. The radiation levels far exceed anything our most advanced shields could counteract. We will be contacting all vessels and Star Ships currently assigned to the base that are either on on deployment or had been rercalled at this time. Hopefully, in due course, one of the vessels not directly affected, will be able to get close enough to evaluate the situation first-hand. Admiral Grant of our Astrophysics Division has more information and will continue the briefing on my behalf." The President said, handing the floor to Grant.
"At this point, I can inform you that there was no prior warning to the catastrophic event, nothing indicated that the Nebula was unstable. We are not ruling out a man-made event, but again, we have absolutely 'zero' information other than what our monitoring stations are giving us. As of one hour ago, an object, possibly Starbase Forty Seven itself, was picked up on sensors, but the image was lost almost immediately. It is possible that the 'Base was not instantly destroyed, but may have survived, at least the initial blast and shockwaves, which will be felt in the Sol system within the hour. All vessels have been ordered to position themselves with any planetary body between them and the oncoming shock-wave. Unfortunately, we estimate the death toll to be in the millions throughout the System." He stopped speaking, allowing the information to sink in, then continued, "We should face the fact that we may have lost Star Base Forty Seven. It is difficult to see how they could have survived the initial explosion and ignition of the Nebula, we will of course expend every effort to find the Station. Once it is possible to enter the area ... But at present, a blanket exclusion zone of sixty light years, has been set in place to prevent any further possible loss of life."
Once again the room erupted in a myriad of questions ..........
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
"UTRINQUE PARATUS"
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,163
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Post by Carl Torek on Mar 3, 2017 1:05:47 GMT
Starbase Forty-Seven - Betreka Sector Stardate: 2403.0301 Command Center It was twenty three fifteen hours, and Beta Shift was getting ready to hand over to the Gamma Shift. As Officers passed on any issues of relevant information pertaining to their shift, long-range scanners picked up anomalous readings coming from the Betreka Nebula, located approximately twelve light years distant ..... "Keep an eye on that." The Lieutenant heading off-shift said casually as the station began to reverberate with a deep bass rumble. Everyone dove for their respective stations, including those ready to leave. With Section Admiral Gheskori currently off the Star Base, Admiral Tetsutaro, Head of Federation Intelligence, was in Command. He was called within a minute and entered the Command Center two minutes later: "Lock the Star Base down … NOW !" he ordered, the instant the severity of their situation dawned, "Evacuate all personnel from sections Beta through Delta, increase shielding to maximum on that side of the ‘Base. If we have any vessels that are able to depart, then get them out, if now we need tractors on anything staying. It is possible we will not survive the initial impact of the blast wave, but should we do so, we need to be able to react to the many injuries and inevitable deaths with due haste." "Sir, Section Admiral Gheskori's shuttle has docked but has sustained damage. Medical are en-route." With three minutes to go, Star Base Forty Seven was completely locked down. Emergency bulkheads throughout the four kilometre length of the station were dropping into place, effectively isolating small sections from their neighbour. Saying a silent prayer, Sato held onto the rail as the burning, un-measurable force of the shock-wave slammed into the Star Base .......... ~~~ YEAR ZERO ~~~
SD: 2403.00.0302 Eventually, emergency lighting began to snap on. The Command Center was in disarray, bodies were strewn over consoles and against bulkheads, Sato, cut and bruised, with a broken left arm, staggered to his feet with the help of an Ensign. He looked around the center, seeing flickering consoles, numerous fires were being handled, Officers were trying to gather themselves and bring sensors back on-line. For three hours, everyone worked tirelessly. There had been no communication with anyone outside the Command Center, nor was there expected to be until they could re-establish power. As internal sensors began to come back on-line, albeit sporadically, they began to realise the full implications of what they had gone through: The first, and evidently minor shock-wave, had slammed into the Star Base propelling them from a stationary position, to almost one hundred thousand kilometres per hour within the first few seconds, increasing as the wave carried them. Force-fields and shielding had tried to cope but were never designed to experience such forces, and subsequently, many perished in those first seconds. Seven minutes after the first hit, the main shock-wave smashed into the enormous Star Base, throwing it like tissues in the worst hurricane ever know. Docked ships were flung around like frozen peas in a large tin can. Sato didn’t want to think on the unimaginable loss of life throughout the station, but he and everyone else had worse to face. Maybe surviving was the worse of two evils ..... Twelve hours after the second shock wave, the base was travelling at twenty three point two percent of light speed ... Thankfully, it was holding it’s vertical orientation, though it had begun to rotate clockwise, which was actually helping to keep a micro-gravity in place. The first day passed, and they finally began to regain power to various systems. Life support, artificial gravity, inertial dampers, short-range sensors, all became active, along with control of the internal bulkheads. Teams comprising of Marines, Security, Medics, and anyone they came across who were willing to assist, began to contact each of the seventeen hundred levels. The information they received was anything but positive ..... **********The dead were moved to rooms initially, but the sheer numbers made it impossible, then, as people began to be affected by the incalculable loss of live, Admiral Tetsutaro made the terrible decision to send all deceased into space. Hundreds upon hundreds were passed through air-locks, to drift behind the massively wounded Star Base until such time as they could be retrieved for burial. On the second day, with the Section Admiral released from the Primary Medical Center, long-range sensors came on-line, though everyone wished they hadn’t ... Tetsutaro sat everyone down and after gathering his thoughts, he began: "If our sensors are correct, and there is no evidence to the contrary ... We are currently fifteen point six light years from our previous position. We are slowing, but have already departed the Orion Spur and are now heading towards the Long Arm, en-route to the 3kpc Arm. We have at this point dropped approximately one half million kilometres 'below' Galactic Zee, this incline is constant at the moment but should level out hopefully." He said, holding up a hand as several people wanted to ask questions, "We have regained control of our attitude thrusters, and are currently attempting to slow our rotation. We also have some communications. At this point it is impossible to contact the Federation, but we have sent out a distress call and have issued recalls to 'ALL' vessels currently undertaking missions that may have been caught in the tragedy. Hopefully, someone will hear us and come to our assistance. but we should face the fact now, rather than later, that we are completely alone. The distance alone precludes any expectation of immediate assistance." "Admiral. With all due respect, there were approximately two hundred fifteen thousand men, women, and children, aboard when we were thrown out of position. We need to turn around." One of the diplomatic Representatives said. "We are doing everything in our power to achieve that Ambassador." Sato said sympathetically, "But while we need to curtail our headlong plummet into the Galactic core, we have people here, and now, who need our help and leadership. We have covered less than two percent of the base thus far, and have, to my unending sadness, needed to dispose of almost three thousand people. What do you think the death toll will be once we reach the lowest decks, Ambassador ?" "Have we had any luck contacting anyone ?" someone asked. "Surely someone will know of our plight, and will be sending help !" someone commented. But Sato could only shrug: "If our own initial calculations are correct, the Betreka System will be subject to quarantine on a scale never before seen. I doubt anyone is capable, if at all able, to come to our assistance for the foreseeable future ... It is highly likely that the Federation believe we were destroyed in the cataclysmic event, so at this point in time we must fend for ourselves. Section Admiral Gheskori wants to say a few words." He finished, dropping into his seat as everyone began demanding answers he simply could not provide ..........
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
"UTRINQUE PARATUS"
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,163
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Post by Carl Torek on Mar 5, 2017 0:44:55 GMT
~ Stardate : 2403.0302 - 14:36 hrs ~
Following the events leading up to the Raven having to destroy a commandeered Intelligence Vessel by unknowns They had docked at Starbase Forty Seven for some well-earned rest and recuperation
~~~~~~~~~~ Carl told his Exec that nothing was going to be done in the way of upgrades or refit to their ship given it was literally only weeks old, so everyone could enjoy three days Shore Leave effective immediately.
"Three days Admiral ?" Calli asked, admittedly surprised.
"Yes Commander ... 'THREE' days ..... We'll have a skeleton crew aboard obviously, but Starbase personnel will be excluded unless involved in maintenance work throughout the ship. The crew, and Officers alike, need this." he said getting up from the center seat and stretching over-dramatically, "We're not due out again anyway given we were expected to present our individual reports on recent events, so it's one of those 'kill two birds' things." he finished with a grin.
"You have anything planned ?" Calli asked as they entered the turbo-lift.
"Oh, I'm hoping to take a shuttle over to Jakken's moon, in the Iadora Sector, a days' flight away ... Apparently, they have built a massive amusement and theme park, Bethan and Vanessa have been looking up on where the highest, fastest, and most likely most dangerous new rides are, and are now determined to have us take them there." He was about to continue when the lights in the turbo-lift flickered for a second and they felt the floor move off it's vertical trajectory for a second. He tapped his comm badge :
=^= Bridge .. Have we just been hit by any chance ? =^=
=^= No Sir .. The Starbase was hit by some sort of pressure wave .. Nothing drastic but it stretched our inertial dampers for a second or two =^=
=^= Contact Command .. Make sure there is no immediate danger Harry =^=
=^= .. .. And the Shore Leave instructions Admiral ? =^=
=^= Send everyone on holiday Commander .. Torek out =^=
"It could have been a residual shock-wave following a stars' collapse in a distant System." Calli suggested, "Though we do usually have prior knowledge, strange." she finished with a shrug.
"You any plans for your unexpected leave ?" he asked, part of him still pondering the tremor.
"Well ... Once I've given my version of events, I think I'm going to be looking at sand, sea, sun, a bikini, tall drinks, and bronzed men." she replied seductively.
"I didn't know we had that kind of stuff in the holo-suite programs."
"I'm not talking about holo-suits, I'm going after the real thing !" she said, playfully slapping him on the arm.
"Striking a Senior Officer .... Hmmmm." Carl said grinning.
Little did they know at that moment what that almost inconsequential tremor meant, and what was to come in the next few hours ... Their lives would never be the same again .......... ooo000ooo
~ Stardate : 2403.0302 - 23:15 hrs ~ Carl was with his Family on the Starbase. Given they had made arrangements to travel to Jakken's Moon early the next morning, he had decided to get off the ship a day early. The girls were tucked up in bed and Chloe had poured them a glass of wine each, they were relaxing watching a holo-movie remake of one of the horror type Frankenstein films from hundreds of years earlier when they felt the tremor, this one though lasted for several minutes. Carl eventually felt he needed to contact Command himself to find out if there was any danger, but as he reached for his Comm badge on the table, the 'Base Communications System chirped urgently to life, this message appearing on every screen throughout the massive Starbase:
*** ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ***
*** STARBASE LOCKDOWN PROCEDURES IN EFFECT WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT THIS IS NOT A DRILL ***
*** ALL BULKHEADS WILL BE SEALED ..... ALL BULKHEADS WILL BE SEALED ***
*** ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ATTENTION ***
"Get the girls NOW !" he said, jumping up and snatching his Comm badge, he tried the command Center but they were obviously busy, which in itself was almost terrifying. he changed tack and contacted the Raven directly, hoping 'someone' had remained aboard with a higher rank that Crewman following his almost enforced leave. Thankfully Harry Wedlerson was still on board. What he was told sent a shiver of fear down the length of his spine that he had never before felt. If Harry was right, something catastrophic was occurring within the Betreka Nebula, something that could have a dramatic, and possibly unprecedented effect on the four kilometer tall Starbase ! =^= Admiral ! =^= Harry said, his voice quivering uncontrollably. =^= Harry ? =^= =^= The Nebula Admiral .. .. It's .. .. It's erupted .. Exploded .. It's .. .. Admiral there's a shock-wave of immense force approaching the 'Base =^= =^= How long ? =^= Carl asked, dreading the reply. =^= Minutes Admiral .. Minutes =^= =^= Harry .. use every ounce of power and ram it into the tractor array's .. Use them as shock absorbents .. Hold that ship in place no matter what happens .. Understood ! =^= =^= Sir .. I'm not sure .. .. .. =^= =^= Do what you can to safeguard the ship but make sure you survive this too .. Torek out =^= he turned to Chloe and his Daughters: "Back into the bedroom. get every blanket, pillow, piece of clothing you can, anything that will cushion the shock and throw it in the corner." he looked at his Family, his adopted Daughters, the woman he fully intended to marry, "Please, i don't have time to explain, we're about to be hit by a shock-wave that could, do a lot of damage." they ran into the smaller bedroom and began dragging everything off the beds and out of cupboards and flinging it into the corner Carl had picked, knowing the orientation of the 'Base made that location with the shock-wave at their backs, much better than having it hit then head-on. Once they had every iota of protection and the four were huddled beneath the pile, Carl realised he could do one last thing to help them: "Computer ... Erect maximum force fields around this room immediately !" 'Unable to comply' the soothing voice said. "Computer carry out last order .. .. Authorisation: Torek-Alpha-Two-Two-Lambda-Epsilon" he felt the crackling of the enormous forces now protecting the single room they occupied. Were his actions selfish, YES, Would he do this again, YES, his Family came first, despite his oath, despite his dedication to Star Fleet, to the principles of the Federation, despite everything, he needed to protect his Family. Before he could 'second-guess' his actions, the first shock-wave slammed into Starbase Forty Seven. ~ The Lights Went out ~
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on Mar 10, 2017 16:54:41 GMT
USS Enzio, in dock...
Ghes had left the bridge of the Enzio still too preoccupied with reading the PADD to pay proper attention to the here and now, so that he nearly tripped over the boundary between his quarters and the corridor. "Hmmm," he tapped the PADD against a palm as he sat down beside Mwv'mci.
She knew full well he was still concerned about the Intelligence presence in the sector; Tetsutaro had arrived the day before yesterday after a brief sojourn on Earth, and this time had brought back with him the USS William J Burns, which had been emptied of crew and restaffed by various ships - connected to varying degrees with Starfleet Intelligence - which had been in the area.
"They won't look into the research project, Admiral," his wife teased, "Your scientific inqueries aren't of any interest to the Federation's secret service organisations."
He raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? What if we were dealing with genetic modification of plantlife indigenous to several human worlds where acts of genocide had been committed in the last 100 years?"
She didn't have an opportunity to respond as the comm sounded; Ghes was summoned to the Starbase; a rumbling from the nearby Betreka nebula had alerted Ops and - in a move not often taken - the base commander had decided to bring all flag officers and VIPs to the station, deciding, it seemed, that being situated on outlying ships constituted a risk to those officers and persons.
Ghes glanced aside at his young wife (he would surely be given a few minutes to collect his things, he thought, Tetsutaro's insistence or no). A thought stirred within him and he grabbed Mwv'mci's wrist suddenly, she looking up delighted and delightfully. "Let's do some investigations!" he cried maniacally. As she laughed something seemed to wash over them, the room, everything; the deck began to rattle, the lights dimmed, a coarse vibration propagating through the duranium/tritanium chassis.
=/\=Admiral, the Betreka nebula is growing unstable.=/\= He asked the duty officer if the current disturbance to the ship had something to do with it. =/\="Aye, sir."=/\= Rising from the couch, he stumbled by the coffee table and grunted, toppling over as the ship entered black-out...
* * *
Starbase 47, +29:14 hrs after impact of main shockwave...
Still cradling his head to give him the illusion of mitigating the pain, although the doctors had told him they'd fully healed the wound and freed him from the effects of concussion, Ghes left sickbay and found himself walking via the inhabited areas that lay between there and Starbase Ops.
The second day, the first where he'd been able to do something. Aides, line officers, some civilians including even a couple of reporters, and assorted others went with him and thus formed a sort of escort.
He made his way with his company through devastated sections where the joyous flow of life had been disrupted, carved and decimated by the force of the shockwave and the secondary, tertiary, quaternary effects of that colossal pressure/temperature patch of density's intersection with Sector 47's beating heart.
As he listened to the monotonous voices of those aides and officers giving him the latest reports, their words spoken unsteadily, emotionally at times as they were bowed under by the import of what they were relating, the Admiral found that wherever he walked, people were collecting bodies, digging for more, or for people hopefully still alive; plasma fires were still burning, EPS conduit's contents were still guttering at ruptured points where sudden overloads had been experienced in the moments after the impact; stitched into everything he saw, every scene of ruination, lives and the material spaces they inhabited were still undergoing the slow-motion process of recoil from the event, experiencing all the fallout, short and long term, whose existence the explosion had made necessary.
* * *
Four hours passed in constant meetings before Ghes learnt that long-range sensors had been reestablished. He understood Sato was setting about preparing a meeting for the staff (those immediately available at least, those who were flag officers and yet ship commanders were mostly occupied at current; he didn't want to push his starship-commanding Admirals to attend staff briefings when their ships would mean almost if not just as much to them as the Starbase and its crew itself).
"Give me the list again." The aide was confused. "Of the ships," Ghes clarified.
"The USS Lexington, USS Raven, USS Enzio, USS Oxford, USS El Salvador, USS Chekhov, USS Maracanda, USS Confucius... Those the surviving ships that were inside the Starbase at the time of the explosion," the aide confirmed, "Three others destroyed or damaged beyond repair. Outside the station, other starships of the Section and visiting vessels, of all types from over Alpha and Beta Quadrants, that were near the Starbase at the time seem to have been carried with us; some have already been destroyed, others are still active. We're attempting to form a concise list, though their statuses are changing all the time."
"I must learn about my ship," Ghes grunted, turning in his seat in the ruined officer's lounge off Starbase Ops. The lounge had been used temporarily as a triage while the internal bulkheads and transporters were still offline. Now the base was returning to some limited functionality, better facilities had become accessible.
He'd learnt a small amount about the Enzio's situation over 12 hours ago; some damage had been done and some had been killed, though they'd done well comparatively; he activated his terminal and opened an audio-visual feed to his starship's bridge, glad to see the officer in the centre seat, "Will we be ready for the cruise around Arcturus next week?" he asked the officer, attempting to keep things jolly.
<Tag Enzio crew>
<Tag All crews> - post your own situation from wherever and whenever you like in the course of the disaster (the time it struck, or up to the present, or both; our initial reactions, etc.
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Post by Savot on Mar 16, 2017 21:38:15 GMT
[El Salvador: Captain's Quarters Stardate 2403.0301]
Commodore Savot sighed imperceptibly, disappointed but entirely unsurprised at the response he received from the Federation Council Asylum representative at his inquiry. =^=I'm sorry Commodore but the girl doesn't belong here. Even IF we were to disregard her assaulting a Federation officer with fatal intent; she is a lifeform not originating within this universe. I feel for her apparent circumstances but we shouldn't be involved with Mirror Universe events to any degree and giving her asylum in this reality would constitute incalculable degrees of Prime Directive violation. You will retain custody of the child until a controlled crossover can be arranged to send her back; we will contact the El Salvador at that time. Good day, Commodore=^=, the face vacated the screen of his console to leave the Federation Emblem behind.
Savot sat unmoving at his desk for several moments, summoning his full calm. He could certainly understand the representative's point of view, but where matters of care for another living being were concerned such understanding did little to salve the sting of the consequences. If... when Karysta returned to the MU Savot felt certain she would renew her pursuit of that reality's Savot, the brutally calculating assassin that also was the girl's progenitor, an encounter she very likely would not survive. And if she chose not to pursue him, M-Savot might well choose not to leave a 'loose cannon' in play that could threaten him and he would seek to eliminate her himself. It seemed a veritable Kobayashi-Maru situation and Savot found himself more significantly preoccupied with thoughts of the girl's well-being than he would normally have anticipated.
He snapped his attention back to the here and now in concert with the snapping of his ranking pips back upon his uniform shirt collar. The vulcan captain confirmed the transfer orders of Doctor Nayomi Chavet who had elected to take personal time following lasting effects of encountering someone from her personal history, and did the same for the transfer orders of his friend Commander Delbridge who intended to return to the Jupiter Propulsion Research Station where they had met many years prior. As the day neared its end, a chime went off permitting entry of a bridge officer's voice into the ether of Savot's quarters, =^=Captain to the Bridge immediately; spatial phenomenon of catastrophic intensity approaching Starbase 47's location, ETA 9 minutes!=^=
Savot had grabbed his commander jacket and strode into the corridor by the first syllable of 'catastrophic' and while he normally would be a proponent of the practice of a commanding officer never appearing to rush in order to keep any crew who saw him or her calm, this situation demanded he trust in his well-founded faith in the El Salvador crew's capacity for keeping their heads in crisis. He expressed a moment's internal satisfaction at already seeing and hearing the Red-Alert klaxons without his having had to order it, and he tapped the commbadge of his jacket as he sprinted for the nearest turbolift, =^=Savot to all hands. Man all transporter rooms and beam aboard all personnel on board the Starbase that can be located. Non-essential personnel report to quarters immediately and secure for potential impact. Senior officers report to stations.=^=
****************************************************************************************************************************** [El Salvador: Main Bridge, 7 minutes prior to shockwave impact]
The whoosh of turbolift doors announced the arrival of the vulcan captain who wasted no time taking long strides to the center seat though he remained standing for the moment. His right eyebrow arched in surprise as he saw Cadet Zhegras sitting at the Engineering station with Karysta sitting beside her. The Tellarite cadet saw the need for explanation, "Captain, the Chief Engineer instructed me to report here to serve as Engineering liaison." Even as he opened his mouth to inquire as to the identity of said Chief Engineering, a familiar voice rang out over the ship's comms, =^=Delbridge to Savot; Engineering standing by, full power available as needed, stabilization fields in place around the warp core.=^=
Savot could almost have smiled at his friend's steadfastness but the time to impact was lessening irrevocably. The vulcan whirled smoothly and assumed the Ops station, running a quick scan to identify the number, class, and physical status of all ships currently docked within Starbase 47. As expected, the El Salvador was the newest vessel and her design incorporating her predecessor's Prometheus-class Warp Core afforded her a power surplus the others did not enjoy and as such Savot did not hesitate, "Commander Irae, assume the helm, acquire clearance to depart the station at once and take us out. The fewer docking umbilicals Starbase 47 has active, the more structural integrity they'll have to distribute between them. We'll attempt to weather the event from outside." To their credit, no officer within earshot raised argument with the captain's intended course of action. Astoundingly, even amid the bedlam of frantic activity within SB47 itself, clearance to exit was granted and the Excalibur-class vessel passed through the leviathan Docking Bay doors 5 minutes before the incoming shockwave's anticipated impact.
Instructing all officers to activate the stability harnesses embedded into the workings of their chairs, Savot worked his Ops console to open a comm line between the Bridge and Engineering, speaking to both Commander Irae and Delbridge together, "Commanders, to best weather the coming impact we shall need to engage the full force of our acceleration potential just prior to impact with the event. The more we can lessen the change between our current speed and the speed of the shockwave, the higher our probability of survival. Clearly we cannot match the speed of the shockwave, Mr. Delbridge, what is the best you can manage?"
Delbridge worked the controls on his end so heavily that the console chimes could be heard over the comms, =^=Let's see... with the added processing efficiency of the bio-linear computer chips through the El Sal... and the power surplus she packs from the surviving Prometheus core.... wait... waaait, YES it should work. Nomad probe, Enterprise-1701 2267, ship's engines were altered to allow brief travel at Warp Factor 11. That MIGHT just barely cut enough striking force off of the impact with the shockwave that the hull doesn't get instantly crushed; XO you're gonna need to be spot-on with your timing or we're spots on the bulkheads.=^=
(Another post to follow that will bring us up to "present" time)
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Deis Irae
Commander
Savot: "Doctor, put down the hypospray." Deis: "No way pointy, this ship's mine!" [2003]
Registered: Sept 27, 2013 3:30:12 GMT
Posts: 116
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Post by Deis Irae on Mar 17, 2017 11:54:44 GMT
::Its so often in life that one is doing something that later they will percieve as silly or frivolous when the hammer finally comes down. Questions will be asked, like: Where were you when JFK was shot? When 9/11 happened? When WW3 was fully declared? When the Borg tore the fleet apart? And so on. For a smallish scotch-irish starfleet commander, when this hammer is swinging down, she is returning from having her hair done. Removal of the inky black that shes worn for the longest time. Carrying shopping bags full of new clothing, little conveniences, special treats that one just cannot appreciate comming from a replicator.::
::Deis Irae is approaching the docking entry to the El Salvador as she tucks orange and yellow dawn colored cloth back into one of the bags, running plans for a special dinner through her head...nothing more dire or major than that. Wanting to suprise Savot with an older "image" of his XO. From a time of Mozart and Gorn anatomy. A long time ago now. A happy time when she was first discovering for herself that, yes, a Vulcan can make a joke. Before all the blood, the isolation, the scarring, the terrible compromise that changes everything...before becomming something other than a simple ships Doctor.::
::With such frivolous plans in mind, it is with some suprise that the alarms and klaxons shatter any mental imagry that she had. The computers screaming that the bulkheads are locking down. Sudden screaming running chaos everywhere. She didnt know what was happening and didnt care...she dashes for that entry hatch. It was only 20 yards away when the seals slam down, seperating her from her ship. Thankfully, her Captains orders has the transporters locked on and beaming her straight onto the bridge of the El Salvador. The mood is obvious as her Captain strides onto the bridge throwing out orders. She didnt manage to get out more than "Wha th bleedin 'hell's..." before Savot has given her the orders to take the helm. Before the bulkheads had slammed down outside she heard only "spacial...catestrophic" andthat was more than enough. Heedless of being out of uniform, rank unmarked, Deis throws her armload of bags down on the deck next to the helm and drops into the chair. Its almost instinct screaming at her to get the hell OUT of here, now, NOW!!::
Acknowledged. ::is all she says to Savot, and then over comms to Delbridge:: Spot on! Grab onto sommat, this is gunna hurt! ::She can see the time countdown on her screen. Oh God you can actually feel the reverberations through space all around us. It isnt so much impact as the wave that comes with the tsunami..only infinately more enormous. She spares one second to snap a look over her shoulder, just capturing Savots eyes briefly. Its enough. Itll have to be. Then she is focused on the helm. No need for departure clearance, clearance has been given across the board, to every ship attached to the station.:: Warp 11...holy hell! ::Dragging fingertips up the warp scroller causes the engines to HUM. Shes impulsed away just enough that the warpwake wouldnt wreck things behind us but it dosent seem to matter. Just before hitting the engagement panel, the El Salvadors view screen is full of ships streaking away right beside us...and being shattered into dust by the wave that caresses our nacelles. Its the waiting thats the worst. She isnt even aware that she is sort of yelling as the ship begins to quake, slamming her hand down on the engagement panel. Yes this might be the most scared shes ever been in her life...and that is saying something. The stars streak ahead of us as that promethius engine gives us everything its got, shipshatter stripping into nothing alongside::
::For 5 seconds, it seems that we may have beaten it...until the monster from behind slams into us hard enough to shake the bones of everyone onboard and take the breath away. Deis has never felt an impact quite like it and will hopefully never again. Any person not strapped in are knocked to the floor, or indeed as Delbridge said...the bulkheads. The main force of the impact, even in the middle of more warp than shes ever experienced, is beyond violent. Onship power flickers, dies, then flickers to life again in an almost strobelight-like manner that adds to confusion or terror...depending on which one was feeling at the time. Not that there was time for "feelings". One second, Deis auto-restraints are compressing her hard enough to cut off circulation and breath, the next the lights are out.::
::A secondary bombardment hits the El Sal from behind, throwing the nacelles "upwards", flipping the entirety of the ship heels over head as the ability to warp cuts out completely, leaving the starboard nacelle trailing renewing sparks. The spinning of it, before stabilizers begin kicking in, is sickening. The Gs of it more keenly felt than usual as inertial dampers and deflectors lose power, regain it, lose it, and regain it again. Indeed this may be the only reason the ship itsself didnt shatter...as with the use of warp 11, it softened the blow.::
::It was the hard downward wrenching that greyed the commander out in her seat, leaving her and no doubt many others, just sort of dangling there when the gravity cuts out entirely. But there is life support and sometimes there is the flicker of light as we seem to awkwardly hydroplane through space just...forever. Hours. Who even knows at this point? Deis certainly has no idea when she manages to come around a little...enough to reach up and kill warp, though warp had given out on us "ages" ago. She hadnt even been wearing her comms when she was transported back onboard...so she lifts her voice and calls to the bridge:: Sound off!?
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Post by Savot on Mar 17, 2017 23:35:53 GMT
[El Salvador: Main Bridge, Moment of Impact Event]
As the final seconds counted down, Savot turned at his Ops console once more to ensure everyone on the bridge had their harnesses secured, then he faced the viewscreen once more. He'd opted against putting up a rear view on the main screen so as not to distract Deis' attention from the deft execution required at the helm. He had sounded a final ship-wide, =^=All hands. Brace for impact=^=, and then had to trust the crew's safety to their preparedness and whatever fortune chose to ally itself with the beings of Starbase 47 this day... His fingers worked at the console reconfiguring shield output to focus shields to the ship's aft, but then tweaking shield emitter alignment so that instead of creating an ovoid shape around the entirety of the El Salvador, the shields formed as close to a pyramid as he could make, with the point focused at the very center of the ship's aft section then shearing off at angles to deflect the energy and inertia of the incoming wave in an effort to keep as much impact from bombarding the hull itself as possible.
The vulcan captain experiences a moment of mathematical fascination in the split seconds that the ship's burst of speed keeps them ahead of the blast but of course being caught by the wave was inevitable. The sensation of running headlong into a brick wall and unbelievable speed... except you're practically standing still and the brick wall runs into your back. On the plus side, the organic nature of the ship's bio-linear circuitry allowed for not only increased processing speed but could also distribute power across themselves in a way that prevented the sparking explosions of duty stations that frequently claimed crewmens' lives when ship's took significant damage, like a body's weight being supported on a full bed of nails so that none puncture. However, there was still only so much that could be avoided with regard to consequences. Even as the ship miraculously survived outright destruction, the sheer number of items that were impossible to secure within the warning period they'd had proved fatal to many, boxes, tools, etc being flung around and into ribs, temples, throats... dozens perished from the first 5 seconds of impact fallout.
After the initial impact and the Excalibur class vessel began its inevitable surrender to a centrifugal rotation, Savot continuously clenched his teeth and tensed muscles to force continuous bloodflow through his body to stave off passing out from excessive gravitational forces, and he used the fluctuating console functionality to redistribute the El Salvador's shields back to their standard full-coverage layout. What little power there was to re-route he shunted into the navigational deflector to ensure it didn't fail while they were being propelled violently through space filled with microscopic particles that could shred the ship to pieces. Finally even Savot's physical efforts fail and he loses consciousness as their vessel continues her multi-axis spin through space alongside Starbase 47...
*********************************************************************************************************************************************** [El Salvador: Main Bridge 5 hours later]
Savot was roused by the sound of Irae's voice calling those in earshot to sound off, "Captain Savot, alive and conscious." Looking down at the Operations console, blinking in and out of data-display mode, he could tell that external sensors were offline but even with only internal sensors and inertial dampener readouts he could easily tell they remained in a spin, albeit considerably slower rotation than before, "Commander Irae... with impulse engine stability unknown at this time, utilize station-keeping thrusters to cease our rotation." He unclipped his restraints so he could move about the Bridge, checking each crewmember present for their well-being, surprised to see Karysta tearing a strip from her sleeve to affix around Zhegras' forearm where a free-roaming datapadd had struck her elbow with sufficient force to break the skin; however, otherwise the Tellarite cadet was stable and conscious. Savot attempted intra-ship communication, unsurprised to hear the static-laden feedback that always foretold a commbadge's current uselessness.
He turned to address the group as a whole, "Our priorities are as follows: I will proceed to Engineering to ensure Warp Core stability. Commander Irae, report to Sickbay and ascertain the situation there, distributing triage parties throughout the ship as soon as possible. Chief Zakryn, deploy security personnel to every deck, armed, secure each deck then deploy systematically to search for wounded. Mr. Tamarov, you will remain here to coordinate once communications have been restored. Cadet Zhegras, remain and be ready to assist Engineering's repair efforts from this end; Ms. Karysta you have demonstrated fluency in the Operations systems; man this console and perform both short and long range sensor scans as soon as we restore those systems. We need to know where we presently are and any threats whether enemy or navigational hazard as quickly as possible, as well as try to determine if Starbase 47 remains in relative proximity and ascertain their status. Once each team has achieved their primary objective, deploy any non-assigned personnel with hand tricorders to the furthest extents of the hull to check structural integrity until we restore internal sensors and diagnostic systems. All of you exercise caution. I know there are many obstacles before us; simply focus on one objective at a time and soon enough we will have completed them all, together. Proceed."
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,452
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Post by Andae Blakus on Mar 18, 2017 15:59:48 GMT
OOC: 5 hours after shockwave
He thought back to those moments before the shockwave had struck the station:
the blazing sun, its rays in the clear azure sky cast through the deciduous canopy, his footfalls amongst the loose bracken in these woods on the mountainside, and chirping of birds seemingly from all around, sounds which - after the next few seconds - he'd come to think he'd never hear again.
He'd been chasing the rest of the group down the slope, towards a small stream whose icy waters cut a way through this part of the terrain, forming a gully which accentuated to steep ravines in the places where the incline remained fairly constant for tens of metres.
At the foot of the bank, he found the engineers already sitting about their deckchairs, opening beverages and the like, while Harton and Milyanov continued to fruitlessly plumb the depths of the cold freshwater - that cast itself down from the spring near the final summit of the mountain - in search of non-existent piscetic lifeforms, casting their fishing rods into the pitiable stream that was hardly large enough to carry single-cell organisms, bacteria, and the like (he exaggerated).
"Well, keep trying," he called, retreating towards the shack in which were his papers - engineering matters - just up the way from the bank and nestled in a sort of natural alcove. It was perfectly situated to view his officers' ridiculous exploits and as a place in which to conduct a much-needed catch up on his work: the destruction of the William J Burns, why its crew had been after Donna Pearson, who they could possibly have been if not actual Starfleet Intelligence... etc.
As he set about the work, occasionally casting wry glances through the slightly mucky window at the fishing attempts in vain, the sky above the system of mountains and rivers started to crack in two...
"Commander Blakus. Are you with me?"
The voice seemed to echo in his mind, nearly frittering away to nothingness before he was able to grasp its words' meaning, or even what'd been said. He seemed to awaken, though darkness was still all around; had he been asleep? had he been dreaming? had all that even happened at all? Blearily, he opened his eyes, still feeling the shock and the agony coursing along the entirety of his left side; he believed he'd nodded to the man.
"Good, stay with me, Commander, we're going to get you out of this. Everything's going to be fine..."
He nodded dumbly in response to the doctor.
Knowledge of where he was on the Starbase gradually returned to him: in an open space just up from a concourse which led up from the ring outside the main docking ring - as he looked around with his cranium only from his otherwise immobile position, he saw many other groups of people that were perfect reflections of his own situation: one or more injured people lay on stretchers; a doctor, nurse, or other medical attendant, seeing to that person's or persons' ailments. Yes, he remembered now... He'd been making his way back from the holodeck, just after the incident, where he'd been half-crushed in the...
Gasps from without the study shack couldn't distract him from the spectacle in the heavens: in the rent torn there, silver-grey Starbase machinery now protruded, and with a horrendous shriek forced its way through the rest of the tritanium-lined holodeck and into the midst of the false environment, shorting out swathes of the sky to be replaced by electric filaments and tendril-like protrusions which lowered themselves over the forest as if to pluck the engineers from their now dubious place of safety. Chaotic EM discharges crackled from the ends of those tendrils, the effect of which now emanated from all around. Blakus crouched on the floor, folding in on himself and covering his head, emitted a muffled cry as the fizzling, disintegrating machinery of the holodeck, eating up the artificial environment, closed in all around him.
"What about the arm, Doctor?"
There was no response from the man. Blakus couldn't see him - he was out of eye line - but the pause and the intake of breath signified just enough, "I'm going to lose it?"
"... Prosthetics have known great technological advancements in recent years, Commander... But you won't be needing one, if I can help it. Realistically, it'll be just a hand, or perhaps only a couple of important bones in the hand... Just think, it could've been much worse."
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Simon Clark
Lt. Commander
Registered: Dec 1, 2016 22:21:10 GMT
Posts: 153
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Post by Simon Clark on Mar 19, 2017 1:40:42 GMT
~ Stardate : 2403.0301 - 22:53 hours ~ USS Enzio, in Dock at Starbase 47.
As the shortest serving member of the crew, Lieutenant Junior Grade Simon Clark had the night shift on the bridge. The bulk of the officers and crew had taken their leave on Starbase 47. He did not mind, he did not feel as if just under a week of service merited a holiday so soon, and he was taking the opportunity to learning the names, faces, skills and experience of his Engineering team, as well as the layout of the Prometheus-class starship on which he was now serving. Ensign Allison Rivers held the operations station behind him. The night shift, in dock, they were the only two officers on the bridge. A commanding officer whom he had not yet met was working on some reports for the Admiral in the Executive Officer's ready room, and had asked not to be interrupted for a few hours. Ensign Heath was manning main Engineering, with a small contingent of enlisted technicians.
The ship was truly running a skeleton crew, and those on duty from the Engineering department were assessing the damage to torpedo tube three, which was proving more extensive than the preliminary assessment suggested. The annihilation damage from the leaking torpedo's antimatter chamber had penetrated through several layers of tritanium, and the micro explosions that had resulted had damaged communication lines, power conduits, and several other connections that supported the function of the torpedo system. They had been very lucky that the warhead, on its exit to collapse the warp highway on their last mission, had not removed the front half of their starship.
Lieutenant Kempton had fed Simon with the specifications for the torpedo tube as he left for the starbase. As it was proving surprisingly difficult to work on, Simon had thought to make use of the industrial scale starship matter replication facilities available on the station to save time. This was also proving surprisingly difficult, as the normal booking system through the computer did not seem to be working.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, we can't give you a time estimate for a torpedo tube replication. We've got a lot on," the logistics manager told him.
"What do you mean, 'a lot on'?", Simon asked, "The main computer shows there's nothing scheduled into replicator six for the next two weeks. We can supply the matter reserves if you are short."
"We're having some difficulties with logging processes, we'll get back to you, you'll just have to make do. Engineering out."
The channel cut, and the display flicked back the the schematic of the torpedo launcher, overlaid on a ship schematic. Simon opened and closed his mouth several times in frustration, without being able to find anything to say.
"It's always like this. The logistics here is awful." Ensign Rivers told him, "They've never really defined the processes, or followed the ones they have defined. Like I said, just build one from parts."
"That'll take four times as long! The starbase could replicate one, and have it here to install within the hour. They have the facility, and won't let us use it! Don't you think that is unreasonable? Ensign?"
"Sorry, Lieutenant, we're getting some mixed information from the starbase sensor network, it seems as if there are some after effects from this afternoon's shock-wave from the Betreka Nebula."
"What sort of aftereffects?"
"I'm not sure, it's... no..." She tapped the comm on her console.
=/\= I asked not be be disturbed, Ensign, =/\= a voice replied.
"Sorry, Sir, but the situation with the Bretreka nebula seems to be escalating. There's a lot of comm traffic, and I would appreciate your input on the situation," she told him.
=/\= Ensign, I'm sure it can wait, it's not as if there's a klaxon out or anyth- =/\=
*** ATTENTION *** *** STARBASE LOCKDOWN PROCEDURES IN EFFECT *** *** WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT THIS IS NOT A DRILL *** *** ALL BULKHEADS WILL BE SEALED ***
"Report!" the commanding officer emerged from the ready room and made for the centre seat.
Ensign Rivers eyes did not leave her console, "Starbase Operations reports that the Betreka Nebula has exploded. A shock-wave of immense force is approaching the Starbase, with impact in less than twelve minutes. The starbase has activated lock-down procedures. All ships have been granted immediate clearance to depart. Admiral Gheskori's shuttle has sustained damage from some debris floating within the station. I am receiving a high priority communication on an open channel from the USS Raven advising the use of tractor beams to hold our position within the docking dome. Two starships have suffered a collision while attempting to leave at the same time."
"Sound the Alert. All personnel, this is the Bridge. Emergency situation, report to your stations in three minutes," the commander announced on the comm. "Ensign Rivers, locate our crew on the station, I want them beamed aboard, directly to their stations if possible - prioritise officers. We're staying in dock. Take a feed from the 'base sensor grid, I want that shock-wave on screen... My... God..."
Simon glanced at the display. A wall of fire was shown, closing fast on the Starbase position. He added a timer to the display that Rivers had pulled up, and was not satisfied with the result. That was not a lot of time.
"Computer, locate all on-leave crew on Starbase 47, and begin site-to-site transport to their normal working areas. Prioritise by rank and experience." Rivers ordered.
"Computer, create schedule file for pending transports and display in the relevant transporter rooms." Simon added. Rivers nodded to him and went on to brief the arriving crew as they became available.
He ignored what she was doing, and turned to the needs of his own team. Power. Inertial Dampeners. Tractor beams.
"Clark to all Engineers. Listen up. In eight minutes the starbase will be hit by a shock-wave from an exploding nebula. We will use tractor beams to stabilise our position within the docking dome. Priority is power to tractors, thrusters, inertial dampeners, and shields. If there's time left, make good ideas happen, and report them to my station. Be fast. Clark out."
"Clark to Ensign Heath,"
=/\= Rory here, =/\=
"We need power. Ramp up Alpha and Bravo reactors. Can Charlie be brought online in seven minutes?"
=/\= Fifteen, Sir, from cold. =/\=
"Get as much as you can from the fusion reactors first, then power up Charlie on auto, I think we're going to need it."
=/\= Will do. Heath out. =/\=
That was power. The timer ticked down.
He pulled up a display of the ship, and had the computer mark the engineers in yellow. One dot showed in forward tractor control on deck ten. Lieutenant Kempton.
"Clark to forward tractor control."
=/\= Kemptonshhere... Shir =/\=
"O'Tooles, Lieutenant?" Simon asked. Kempton had said he didn't want to be bothered for two days when he left.
=/\= mmm... 'm'on holiday... where'm'I? =/\=
Simon didn't bother answering. "Computer, queue a transport of Lieutenant Kempton to the bed in his quarters. Beam the following crew members to tractor control fore and aft." Simon selected the names from his recently developed matrix of skills, and wondered why Lieutenant Marin had not thought to keep one updated. He briefed tractor control team, and suggested six dome hard points on three axes for maximum stability. They acknowledged. The recently awoken and arrived Helmsman reported from his station that thrusters were ready. Inertial dampeners had been fully powered.
"Keep impulse on standby," said the commander added from the center seat, "Ops, report."
"Two minutes, forty-six, to impact. We have nine crew members still on the station, there's a lot of transporter activity, transporter teams are struggling to get a lock. Docking bay doors have sealed. Three worker bees are reporting they are stopped outside, Station control is not responding."
"Beam them in," the commander said, "And anyone else who looks vulnerable. Let them face the fire behind a decent structural integrity field. Engineering, report."
Simon felt the rush of adrenaline as he glanced at the readouts on his station. The log listed the reports in text as they came in from engineering consoles across the ship, and showed the current status of every system in green or amber. Brexon reported that the artificial gravity was now under inertial dampener control. "Power levels rising, tractor emitters ready to engage, inertial dampeners powered fifteen percent above rated maximum, shields ready".
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Sir?" asked Simon, confused.
"We want to know what-you-are-going-to-come-up-with-next, Chief," said the tactical officer.
"Artificial gravity has been tied into inertial dampener control. Sorry, Sir, that's what we have. Engineering systems are powered and ready. Engineering teams are standing by. It'll have to be enough." Simon responded.
"Let's hope," the commander said, turning back to the screen.
"One minute," Rivers said, "That's some shock-wave. That's going to shake the station around with us inside it."
"Activate tractors. Keep us steady, Clark." the commander tapped the comm "All hands, this is the bridge. Brace for impact, fifty seconds."
They watched the wall of fire approach on the view screen. Simon realised he was holding his breath. He released it, and tried to relax into his chair, for as much good as it would do. What else could they do?
"Foam!" Simon said aloud.
"Lieutenant?" the commanding officer asked.
"We need soft impact foam!" Simon said again.
"Ten seconds," Rivers announced.
"Computer. Create holographic program Clark-Two: simulate a half meter thickness of soft polyurethane foam around any solid non-control surface on board the USS Enzio, allowing transmission of thermal, acoustic, 95% light, and gas diffusion."
"Three seconds,"
"Program ready." the computer said.
"Two seconds,"
"Run Program Clark-Two!" Clark replied.
"One!"
Every floor, wall, and door on the bridge was outlined with the ghost blocks of material. Simon felt his legs lifting from the floor as almost invisible simulated upholstery foam gently pushed his feet upwards, and felt the gentle pressure on his face as it floated out from the bulkheads around the engineering station.
"What the h-" someone said.
Rumbling was first. Shaking. Heavy undulating. Simon was pressed hard into the foam to his left. He could feel the immense forces on his body. He could not move. The force fields from the holo-emitters cushioned his decent toward the wall, and he was immensely grateful for the feeling of soft security that came with the terror of these g-forces. The force vector shifted. He fell forward onto his control panel. His arm struck the hard surface with a sickening crack. His stomach heaved. His vision blurred. His hearing muffled. He had a brief sensation, like a dream, observing himself flung like a doll under the immense pressure of forces beyond anything that modern technology or the human frame could counter. He felt very tired. He closed his eyes for a moment...
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Deis Irae
Commander
Savot: "Doctor, put down the hypospray." Deis: "No way pointy, this ship's mine!" [2003]
Registered: Sept 27, 2013 3:30:12 GMT
Posts: 116
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Post by Deis Irae on Mar 20, 2017 7:14:39 GMT
::For the first few minutes, once Savot begins speaking, Deis is trapped in the bewilderment of "I cannae b'lieve tha just happened!". Tapping her restraint release brings up a second thought though...and vocalization. A quickly stifled groan. Its like being in a small vehicle accident...from all possible angles. Its a gingerly slow moment as she moves everything to make sure impact bruising is all the injury that she has...and she wouldnt be the only one. How in the hell did the day go from matching her old hair coloration to slooooowly getting up from the helm-chair while trying not to whimper from the soreness thats already setting in?? She hides it well, just seeming deliberate in her actions...well save for an obvious wince here and there. But she isnt bleeding and nothings broken, so shes head and shoulders above many that are currently hurt right now. And what about the other ships...what about the Station?? No. Cant think about that yet. Have to handle US before worrying about survivors elsewhere. She still dosent know what caused this and dosent really need to. As the Captain laid it out, she has a job to do and its going to be a big one. She does look at him and speaks before he can leave the bridge with the rest that are moving to newly assigned tasks:: Ill trust tha if yer injured, ye will turn up in sickbay, y'hear me. None o this Vulcan stoicism iffen yer hurt and i cannae visually tell. ::Says the woman that is almost walking like an old lady towards the bridge doors. She does take notice of the tellarite and the inpromptu bandage...and mentally triages her as "she'll live". She knows there are people out there that might be broken nearly apart, massive lacerations, on deaths door. The cadet isnt any of those. She gives the girls a nod but then pauses to throw in a bit of morale...tellarite fashion:: When yer done wi yer nap, lass, p'raps ye'll get off yer bottom an make yerself useful. Cannae 'ave ye milkin yer wee nick. ::Translation: "Youll be okay until i can get to you. Carry on. We have to."::
::It is a surreal walk off the bridge into the flickering lights of the corridor. Though the turbolift seems to not be an option. The doors wont even open. Ladders and tubes it is then. Though getting going on that takes more than a little grunt. When Deis finally pops from the tube and out into the sickbay corridor a couple of decks up, there are already people waiting...some already waited too long. Sickbay itsself is a wreck of scattered equipment, broken wreckage, and wounded crewmen. This was Chavets sickbay up to a few days ago...but Deis was once this ships CMO...will have to be again for a time. Stuck between people holding broken limbs, half flickering half working consoles, a few nurses and one shocked looking intern, the Doctor Commander turns and looks at everyone:: Right! Unconscious first. Any an all o ye that aint dead, unconscious, or bleedin like crazy, help get th "out" in here. Ye, ye, an ye, yer on heavy triage. ::Pointing out the Intern and two of the lesser shaken up nurses:: Worst cases first, get em stable an then move on. If anyone needs invasive treatment, yell at me. Ye two, yer wi me on quick patchin. Get em laser stitched and put em t work. ::That bit meant for the last nurse and a lab tech. The poor tech dosent even look old enough to be here:: Everone else...were doin th best we can fer ye. If any o ye are mostly arright an helped get th injured here, yer me shipwide triage teams. Lets move people.
::It might have sounded harsh...but Deis has never had this many people in for emergency care at once and there are more out there that couldnt even get this far. Thankfully those with smaller wounds, cuts, bad bruises, or just came to help step right up and are given medical tricorders, pain killers, stimulants, tranks, and stabilizers. They are quick to move once having recieved their orders. Among the orders are to gather anyone and everyone that are walking on their own two feet and make them into the second triage team. The nurses and a couple of security help bring in a few of the unconscious. It practically kills Deis to move from one to the other, lifting eyelids, running her tricorder over one and shaking her head:: Dead, move him to th quarantine bay. ::Good Lord that was one of our helmsmen fresh out of the academy. She dosent have time to feel the regret or grief for each individual person...she has to help those that she can and put those beyond help aside. There is a frustrating moment when she tries to call the EMH and gets only a buzzing beep from the computer. Of all times to have that one shorted out. That on top of the aches, on top of the dead of which there are far more than she had hoped, on top of the wreckage...its enough to make even a combat medic freeze. Deis does not...shes more than a combat medic. The nurse yells for her immediately...there is only time to give someone a pressure bandage and then roll up her sleeves for surgery. Its like she never left this profession behind...though her bedside manner is a bit more brisk than it would have been before. Simply because there isnt time for it. The first invasive patient has a bit of bulkhead removed from his abdomen...but then theres another, and another::
::Hours pass this way but to Deis Irae, its all a long singular moment. Its falling into a zone that pays attention to nothing that isnt vital. Not the crew grieving over dead family, not the spurt of blood that paints the side of her face, nothing. Do the job, get those that can be saved stable, then get those who can be patched up, patched. Always so meticulous and careful in such matters years ago, today is different. Empty hypo bottles are tossed behind her and she simply asks for another. The poor nurses do their best...she will be proud of them when she comes down from the Zone. Slowly, two triage teams become four, all of them a bit battered but more than willing to help. Theyre a good crew, still are regardless of the lost. By the time the computer is able to call up the EMH, the little Doctor Commander is quietly overjoyed to see him and puts him immediately to work::
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on Mar 20, 2017 21:09:53 GMT
I thought this might be useful to get our bearings, with the multiple chronologies going on at the moment (if thought appropriate I'll cut this and add it on an OOC thread or other Starbase thread):
Time after main shockwave
Day 1
minus 0:11 hrs - After SA Gheskori injury, sustained in preliminary shockwave, his shuttle docks with Starbase
minus 0:07 hrs - first main shockwave 0:00 hrs - second main, devastating shockwave immediate post shockwave - Adm Torek bracing for impact in SB47 residence; El Sal (Savot & Irae) and Enzio (Clark) impact preparations and results
05:00 hrs - Andae Blakus being treated; El Salvador contingencies; Gheskori receives reports in Starbase sickbay [most of us are in this timeframe at the moment] 12:00 hrs - SB47 v=0.232 c 24:00 hrs - SB47 life support, artificial gravity, inertial dampeners, short-range sensors back online
Day 2
29:14 hrs - SA Gheskori released from Starbase sickbay 33:42 hrs - SB47 long-range sensors back online 33:45 hrs - Gheskori, in Starbase's staff lounge off Ops, contacts USS Enzio 33:54 hrs - Adm Tetsutaro calls staff meeting (current death count: 2,977) [this is the furthest on we are at the moment]
Main sickbay, Starbase 47, +5:00 hrs after impact of main shockwave...
Ghes stirred to wakefulness in the miasma of the cerulean, anaemic green lighting of sickbay, or such were the colours of the place as they seemed to him, due in no small part to the strange concussion, arising from the jarring effect of his head having slammed into the shuttle bulkhead - or was that the bulkhead having slammed into him? he a fragile being of flesh and blood knocked about by the shuddering tritanium box as it'd been subjected to gathering tidal forces, eddies of the infernal nebula's colossal pressure wave as it'd ripped its way across the cosmos, reaching the periphery of the Starbase's docking arena...
The primary biobed, which the medical staff had set up for Gheskori in expectation that he'd without doubt demand it, Ghes had actually insisted they give to Vice Admiral Melikhuor, whose cerebral haemorrhaging obviously constituted a much greater risk to the man than Admiral Gheskori's concussion - which drew its pathological inspiration from varied sources in the best tradition of eclectism - did to him. He'd let the VAdm have the main bed.
His concussion and the unforeseen subsidiary effects arising therefrom were, in the words of the doctors, now finally subsiding, but it would be another day (yes, indeed, a whole day) before he'd be permitted to return to active duty, though the idea of active duty in its ordinary sense, he reflected now, meant for very little when one contemplated the chaos all around them, how the vast majority were barely able to be at their stations.
The base staff and ships' crews were still trying to find a straight path through the anarchy unleashed upon them by the previously benign Betreka. That much he'd gleaned from Tetsutaro, other brass, and departmental staff around the base via a audiovisual panel by his bed. According to his aide's report of the situations of various ships in the moments before the shockwave, or what he could gather of them (all were still out of direct contact), the USS El Salvador had managed to escape the station - Savot's ship had unavoidably been caught in the explosion, and evidently had been propelled (if the prevalent notion that the base had been dislocated was correct) along with and in close proximity to the base. Very tentative additions to the report suggested the El Sal crew had survived (even this wasn't confirmed though) using a method of bracing for impact which was to be commended; Ghes feared other vessels hadn't been as forward-thinking as he hoped the command team aboard the Excalibur class starship had been.
The Raven, Lexington and Confucius had secured themselves via ultra-focussed tractor beams to the docking bay's interior, as had the USS Enzio, and he'd just learnt, to his relief, the Enzio had survived the impact. Of the other ships, he was yet to hear... Ghes knew Admiral Torek had been on the Starbase at the time; he'd heard nothing, he only hoped he and his family were safe.
Note: post coming on Gheskori and Admirals' briefing soon (see Carl Torek post (2nd in this thread) above), I have it written, will hold off for now and will post it shortly - EDIT: this will be delayed for now while we all catch up to sometime near the staff meeting, to give us ample opportunity to explore our chars' immediate responses to the disaster, etc.
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
"UTRINQUE PARATUS"
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,163
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Post by Carl Torek on Mar 20, 2017 22:21:44 GMT
Event plus two hours ::
He was aching .... The room was in complete darkness, either he was now blind, or the emergency lighting had apparently failed, tentatively he moved his fingers, confident it wasn't some phantom reaction to a severed limb. He tried to speak but couldn't. Taking a moment he tried to relax his pummelling heart rate he closed his eyes, or at least made the effort, he couldn't be certain either way. Gathering all his will he tried again:
"Lana ?"
"Lana ... Girls ... Can you hear me ?"
"Daddyyyyy." his heart almost broke as he heard the faint but recognisable voice of his youngest Daughter Bethan.
"Beth, sweetheart, it's OK, I'm coming to get you OK ...... Stay where you are, can you see Mummy and Vanessa ?"
"They're ..... They, they are hear, but asleep .... Daddy I can't wake 'Ness or Mummy up." the ten year old sobbed. Carl had never felt so helpless in his life at this moment, but he needed to put that behind him and get to his Family ... Willing himself, he began to move, he knew they were only a couple of meters away but the effort to bridge that distance almost took everything within him, and only the thought of his Family spurred him on. Finally he reached Bethan, and pushing the mattress away he saw her, bloodied, frightened, and holding the hands of Chloe and Vanessa !
He caressed his daughter for long moments but it was her who broke the contact, insisting he look at her Mother and Sister. he felt for a pulse and got one on both, strong, stronger than he'd expected, so he knew they were unconscious and possibly suffering from concussion, but that would need to be determined. The lights began to flicker, then came on at roughly seventy percent, he was already pulling the bedding mattresses, coats, clothing, everything away from his Family until he'd cleared an area where Chloe and Vanessa could lay straight. It was then Bethan realised her sister saw the blood, she told her Father and Carl ripped Vanessa's blouse away to be faced with a piece of metal protruding from the left side of her chest. Quickly he put a hand on the wound but knew he was loosing a battle here, with little option he took a towel and placed it lightly over the shrapnel, then coaxed Bethan to put her hands on the towel. She did so and he turned to Chloe .....
Event plus three hours ::
He heard the doors being forced, people, footsteps, Bethan shouted before he could and they were surrounded by Medical Personnel, from the 'Base, Ships, Marines, he didn't know and at this point didn't care ... His Family were alive ... At this moment in time 'that' was all that mattered. They began to treat the injuries, broken bones, cuts, bruises, several times he had insisted they look after his Family, but finally they ignored his rank and position and worked on his own cuts and bruises.
"Admiral Torek ... Admiral Torek ... Sir, you are Admiral Torek is that correct ?" the Medic asked already knowing the answer, "Sir, with all due respect, you are needed elsewhere. Your Family are going to be OK, but you need to contact Command, or whatever is left of it. We've been searching for you for the last four hours ... ADMIRAL ! ... Please, your Wife and Children are going to be cared for but you are needed, they have been looking for you Sir ......."
"Rav, Raven." he said, unable to take his eyes off the Medics working to bring Chloe back to consciousness and the men treating his girls, "Any word ?"
"With all due respect Admiral, I'm a 'MEDIC' not someon ....." the young man began, but Carl interrupted him:
"Look Mister ! ... You and your people have one priority. You look after my Family until they are safely in the nearest sick-bay of Emergency Center. If you leave their side, you'll regret it, understood ? ....." he knew he was out of order, and could possibly regret his actions in due course, but at this point he didn't care, "Do you have Comms ?"
The Medic looked at him for a long long moment, then handed over his Comm badge.
=^= Fleet Admiral Torek to anyone in Command .. .. .. =^=
=^= Fleet Admiral Torek to anyone in Command .. Is anyone receiving me .. .. .. .. =^=
=^= Admiral .. Admiral .. We were worried .. Patching you through to the Command Center now =^= the voice said.
=^= NO .. Can you contact the Raven ? =^=
=^= Sorry Admiral .. Command Center only =^=
=^= Who's there .. Who's survived ? =^= ..........
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Simon Clark
Lt. Commander
Registered: Dec 1, 2016 22:21:10 GMT
Posts: 153
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Post by Simon Clark on Mar 26, 2017 23:12:38 GMT
(OOC: How a ship crew might respond during the shockwave event?)
+1:00 hrs after main impact USS Enzio, in dock, Main Bridge:
Simon came to, and heard a medical tricorder.
"Hello Lieutenant." said a blue blur in front of him.
Simon grunted, a sharp pain ran from his left arm up to his brain.
"You have a snapped radius on your left side, and some mild cranial trauma. The rest of the news is all good!" he said, jovially.
Simon didn't feel very good, and could not work out how he had broken half a circle on his left. Did humans have circles? He tried to turn to his left to find out, and was met with more pain.
"No, Lieutenant, stay still while I patch the arm. I'd like to say 'go to sick bay, immediately,' However, that's not possible at present, which means you've some more work to do, to work out how to get there, and get there. How's your vision?"
"Fuzzy," Simon said, struggling to form the words with his tongue. Everything was blurry.
"Well said. You've likely thirty minutes of that. You lie still on this holographic foam you've created, and wait it out. Hearing ok?"
"Yes," Simon said, feeling himself being guided into softness, laying on his right. He winced at a spike of pain in his shoulder, and his head span as if gravity had swung loops around the deck. He tried not to throw up, and lay as still as he could. The computer had made a nice comfortable foam to lie on, at his request. As long as the holo systems were working, he would not hit the deck.
"How is he, EMH?" a voice asked. It was Ensign Rivers.
"He'll be functional in an hour or so. You can call me Sam, if you like, or Doctor Reynolds,"
"You have a name?" she asked.
"Sure. Starfleet medical found it makes using the Emergency Medical Holographic system more comfortable for the patients."
There was a rumble, and the deck vibrated.
"Steady now," the EMH said, "Back in the chair, let me have a look at you."
"Doctor, please see to the bridge crew." she said.
"That's exactly what I'm doing, Ensign. Ah, broken ribs, three here, and one there. Not much I can do about. You need sick bay as well. Ah, the trials of being an emergency doctor. Let me know when you work out how to get us there. Ah, Commander?"
"Yes Doctor,"
"I've completed my assessment, your chief Engineer is foggy, though he can respond verbally, don't try to move him. Ensign Rivers has several broken ribs, same order. Your helmsman and tactical officers are fine, apart from some cuts and bruises, which I'll treat shortly, and you've mild sprain to the muscles in your neck, where you fell from your chair onto this hologram, which softened your fall. No other injuries-"
The deck shifted again, and Simon rolled painfully onto his back, cushioned against the violent forces that were overpowering their inertial dampening systems.
"-yet," the hologram finished.
"Thank you doctor. Please continue treatment at your discretion. Lieutenant Clark, what is this on the deck?"
"Holographic foam," he replied, "half meter."
"Across the whole ship?"
"Yes,"
"Lieutenant, that is completely out of line. It could have massive repercussions to the ship power system, and the crew's ability to move effectively through the ship and deal with any arising situation. Turn the damn thing off."
The bridge lurched to one side, and then steadied. Simon knew that the holo systems were separately powered, but he had not considered the limits it would place on the personal mobility of the crew.
"Sir, I recommend we keep this padding active until we know what sort of state we are in," Tactical said, "and whether we will see more shock-waves of that intensity."
"Agreed. Chief, I will grudgingly admit that you have probably saved lives today. Keep the idea, and make it less obstructive, next time."
"I'll think," he responded vaguely from the floor, "and seat harnesses," he added, remembering an image of the the console rushing to meet his head.
"Approved, Lieutenant. For every seat in the house. All stations, continue reports. Ensign Rivers, casualties first."
"Internal sensors for tertiary hull only. No ship comms. Secondary comm badge repeaters have completed initialisation. Location and status ping in progress. Seven badges report they are in vacuum, three on deck five, port side, and four missing... no... four outside the ship."
"Beam them to sick bay,"
"Transporter systems are not responding to bridge commands."
"Bridge to transporter room 1."
The comm system did not respond.
"Find a way, beam them back. Where are they?"
"Somewhere to port, based on the signal from the comm badge. Port sensors are not responding. No communication with primary or secondary hull, I cannot tell you if sick bay is there, sir. Starboard sensors on the tertiary hull are showing a lot of debris both inside and outside our shields, a lot of debris in the dock area around the ship. Analysing... "
"Helm, turn us over, point that sensor array at those comm badges."
"We've no control over the primary and secondary hull's, Sir, the tertiary hull systems aren't capable of maintaining attitude control for the whole ship, and that debris has come from somewhere. I would not recommend it, Sir, we don't know what damage we've sustained."
"The debris is from one of our own nacelles, sir." Tactical added, "Warp engines have been damaged."
"Established data-only connection with one of the docking dome internal EM sensor arrays. Overlaying crew positions. No lifesigns." Ensign River's voice was shaky, Simon could hear her professionalism creaking under the emotional strain. He winced with it.
There was a brief silence in the bridge chatter.
"Continue reports," the commander said, his voice thin.
"Our tractors remain active and are holding us steady within the dome. Several other ships are holding position with the same method. Plotting data from dome sensor array. Starbase inertial dampeners are offline. The station is rotating at four point three degrees per second based on debris position. There is no immediate impact risk to the Enzio that I can see." the helmsman said, "but it's dark out there, that sensor needs light."
"Tertiary hull Shields are down port and aft. There's no ship data for the other two hulls. The base sensor grid shows damage to our shield generators in that area, port, aft, dorsal. Ventral and starboard shields on the secondary hull are active, and I have no status." Tactical reported.
"Tertiary hull aft sensors not responding. Observation lounge interior visual on screen." Ensign Rivers added.
"Turn on all hull floodlights, let's get some light in here," the commander said.
Simon could see a blur on the screen, a grid he supposed were the windows, and the faint red glow he supposed was the bussard collector on the starboard side.
"Where's the port nacelle?" someone asked.
"It's not where it should be," the commander said, "and that's warp plasma leaking into the dock from the front half."
"The computer reports another ship, or perhaps part of another ship colliding with the port primary nacelle, after the second shock-wave. Data is sketchy. The starbase sensor logs are fried, and the system is struggling to discern so much debris, I guess we've shifted to three-zero-zero mark three-zero. I'll try and refine that, Sir," helm said.
"Damage within the docking dome seems to be extensive, and increasing as debris is thrown about inside the dome. There is a lot of thermal radiation coming from breaches in the dome and it looks like the station shield generators are intermittently up and down. There's a lot of vibration going through the station that we are not feeling." Ensign Rivers said. "I can get no telemetry on the starbase, no velocity or position. Given the time elapsed, I would guess we are still within the initial shock-wave."
As if to satisfy this assessment. The deck gave another lurch.
"External Comms?" the commander asked. Simon could see him climbing back into his chair.
"Data only, sir, and only to that sensor array through the docking bay secondary controller unit. I cannot reach the main communications system, or the main computer. There's no-one we can talk to."
"Hail all other vessels in the dock, let's share what we know."
"No response, Sir."
"Transmit our sensor data on standard channels, hopefully someone will pick it up and make sense of it. Will those secondary repeaters carry voice?"
"Yes, Sir." Simon added, showing he was still listening. He felt clearer, now. And the blur in his vision was starting to reform into solid shapes around him.
"Don't push yourself too soon, Lieutenant," Simon heard the chirp of a comm badge being activated. "All hands, this is the bridge, ship comms are down. Communicate damage reports for your section in voice to Ensign Rivers. Computer, transcribe all voice communication directed to Ensign rivers and report it to the most relevant bridge console."
"Acknowledged."
+++ +1:30 hrs after main impact USS Enzio, In dock, Main engineering
=/\= Bridge to Ensign Heath. =/\=
"Heath here,"
=/\= Damage report =/\=
"Beta core at 78% reaction efficiency. Alpha core went offline when the plasma injector cross-feed ruptured, we've some conduits to replace before the core can be re-powered. Estimate 2 hours with the right engineers. Some minor injuries here, nothing serious, thanks to that unusual holo program. No data on Charlie, last information shows she was coming up. We've lost comms to the port alpha nacelle."
=/\= Nacelle's gone, Heath. Collision with another vessel. What comms do you have there? =/\=
"Alpha engineering has comms to the primary hull, Beta engineering has comms to the secondary hull. We've set up a temporary data line down one of the auxiliary ports in engineering, but we can't find any damage to the existing connections. We think it may be a fault in the computer core."
=/\= What's the cause, Ensign, and how long to fix it? =/\=
"We don't know, Sir. We've several theories."
=/\= Best guess? =/\=
"I don't like to guess, sir, I like to find out and tell you what's wrong."
=/\= I want your best guess, Ensign, that's an order =/\=
Rory took a deep breath. "The impact on the nacelle may have caused the computer to believe that the ship has separated into MVAM. All the bulkheads between the three hulls have been closed, so far as we can tell, and communication lines separated. However, the ship hasn't separated, so those systems that would bring the alpha and beta bridge controls online haven't. So we may be in a situation where three computers think we've separated, and the system controls are awaiting commands from the main bridge, which they are no longer receiving."
=/\= Can you reestablish the normal connections? =/\=
"No sir, the computer won't let us. I'm not a computer expert, and we've three separate computer cores to consider, it's beyond my experience to diagnose. Lieutenant Clark's file said he had some more complex computer training."
=/\= Lieutenant Clark is receiving medical treatment at this time. Can you set up an auxiliary connection to the bridge? =/\=
"Our priority is on the Beta core, Sir, primary hull is working on main batteries and secondary reactors only, and there's a massive draw on the inertial systems, maybe 2-3 hours at best. Mitigating the damage from the collision is second, I would trust structural integrity of the that nacelle pylon to be shaky at best, I'd rather not work on anything else until we've got full power, and I recommend against any manoeuvres at this time."
=/\= Agreed. Who is the senior officer in your section? =/\=
"Lieutenant Kempton, sir, but he's not fit at present."
=/\= Keep me informed, Ensign. Bridge out. =/\=
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Post by Savot on Mar 27, 2017 22:55:53 GMT
[El Salvador: Main Engineering]
Before leaving the bridge via Jeffries tube under the emergency medical alcove at the rear offset from the Conference Room, Savot replied to his First Officer's instructions to report any injury without hiding anything altruistically, "Everyone is expected to report truthfully and completely regarding injury. We all have a duty to remain as fit as possible to combat this crisis and we'll serve no one by hiding injury; you may relay that as Captain's orders to anyone who posits a differing point of view." Then it was down into the tubes, making slightly slower time than he could have as he took readings with his personal tricorder as he traveled, checking for power overloads, loss of structural integrity, etc. Fortunately none of the sections he passed through had been opened to space, and as hoped the organic nature of the bio-linear circuitry throughout the ship had prevented catastrophic overloads from power surges and the like.
On Deck 9, Savot encountered 2 of the cadets checking the corridor having pried their quarter doors open after the shockwave dispersed, Jhal'dok the Klingon medical student and Yul'ryas the Corvallen security cadet, both cadets began to come to attention as they sighted the captain but the vulcan waved their efforts off, "As you were, cadets." To their credit, neither male bombarded Savot with questions about what was going on, rather letting him continue and trusting him to explain what he could to them, "Nothing further is known about the phenomenon at this time than at the time of our warning announcement; however, the ship appears to be intact thus far without any catastrophic damage though I am en route to Engineering now to confirm this. I recommend you get all the rooms on this deck opened and gather all the cadets together in a single room both for security and so we can specify life support to a specific location should power become a critical issue. Cadet Jhal'dok do what you can to stabilize any injuries of significance; Yul'ryas your higher age will cause the others to naturally look to you for leadership, just keep everyone as calm as possible, medical and security teams will be dispersing throughout the ship as soon as possible. Until then you all have my every confidence just look to your training; I'll see you again."
As he climbed into the nearby turboshaft to ladder his way down another 7 decks to Main Engineering, Savot thought perhaps for the first time that he was glad the Hope family was no longer aboard. Though all loss of life was tragic he knew he would be particularly stung by anything befalling his young friend Yarna Hope. He hoped she and the rest of her family were well wherever they were, and that he would have the opportunity to see them again in the future. But that was not a focus for today; today more pressing issues demanded everyone's attention. It was 17 minutes after leaving the Bridge when he exited the Jeffries tube crawlspace that came out near the level of the Warp Core it shared with the main Engineering control stations. To his relief, both personal and technical, Commander Delbridge was alive and in motion, already hard at work addressing issues in order of priority, "SAVOT! Sorry; captain, got a little excited there we were worried the bridge might've blown off or something since we had no internal sensors. Well until 3 minutes ago when we used the resource monitors to confirm that no power or oxygen was being shunted into open space up there... so then we knew the bridge was still there... but, you still might've hit your head or something. So my surprise was justified, leave me alone!"
Savot arched his right eyebrow as he broke the distance between them, giving a detailed glance across the various status display screens, "Mr. Delbridge, while your excitability has sometimes been categorized as endearing, I must remind you our situation is severe and ask that you reign yourself in as much as possible. I am likewise pleased to see Engineering and her personnel intact as well. The Warp Core appears stable?"
Delbridge blinked and nodded, mind focused entirely on the problem now and so his more emotional nature was shifted to the backburner as was his way, "Yep, containment fields held no problem. We're working on fully rebooting the Internal Sensor grid now and getting externals up asap after that. But just from the flow readings I'm getting I'm fair sure one of the nacelles has suffered damage and is venting plasma. Wherever we are needs to not be that bad, because we definitely don't have Warp drive for awhile, and I want more dependable readings from sensors before I even try Impulse. We're making comms a priority as well since we'll need to be able to coordinate efforts throughout the ship. Expecting about 2 hours on that. Then we'll be able to nail down more specific timetables on the other repairs as well since we'll have a better idea of what's going on throughout the El Sal."
The vulcan captain nodded, "Agreed; I'll accompany a repair team to Deck 10 to repair the Primary Communications Relay and Sensors. Once communication is re-established, confirm that all medical facilities are fully powered and then focus on restoring Transporter systems in case any casualties need to be quickly moved to Sickbay for treatment. Send 2 personnel to check the shuttlebays to see if any of the shuttle engines are in danger of damaging the rest of the El Salvador. I doubt they fared as well as the rest of us during the impact. Ideally their securing mechanisms held but we should make sure one way or another. Carry on, Mr. Delbridge; and excellent work all of you. Please continue performing at your utmost until the crisis is resolved."
Savot grabbed a repair kit and summoned Lieutenant Kelbren the Klingon engineered who years before had thrown an axe into Savot's back while under alien artifact influence, and the duo made for a turbolift shaft to begin the climb back up towards Deck 10...
*********************************************************************************************************************************************************
(Savot stands ready to do an arrival post at the command meeting when appropriate. If possible I'll do another interim post describing more repairs but if not I'll include more fill-in-the-blanks info as backpost in the arrival segment)
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,452
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Post by Andae Blakus on Mar 28, 2017 11:19:20 GMT
Event +8:30 hours:
Blakus had been sequestered in the medical bay for a little under half an hour, yes, that only, for the medics who'd originally attended him - in combination with two hurried doctors, eyes bloodshot, with dark rims under those eyes, signifying sleep deprivation - had seen to his badly damaged hand and the lesser concern of his debilitated arm.
It'd involved the simple procedure of the removal of the two offending bones in his hand - the best case scenario as suggested by the first response medic who'd seen to the Commander in the open-space intersection - and, voila, it was returned to its original vitality; in the case of the arm, and his entire side as a matter of fact, they were returned to normality with a simple medical tricorder scan and the emission of IR rays from said tricorder to the damaged tissue and bruised musculature/cartilage/etc.
* * *
Still flexing the muscles lining the immediate subdermal layers under his epidermis, that ran from shoulder down to those protruding implements, his fingers, he emerged in the same wide passage he'd found himself in when exiting sickbay that first time (after the experiments on him by Myrox, Rozil, Pearson, et al). A chill found its way up his back, striking nerve endings and renewing the now very remote pains, even giving rise to latent ones the possibility of the occurrence of which the benevolent doctors had apparently been unaware.
He again surveyed the catastrophe, walking, staggering through the passages and concourses, seeing the debris of humanoid & non-humanoid life, both inorganic and organic...
Organic in the all too real sense, in its immediacy, in its cathartic displays bursting over an already bloodsoaked promenade whose floor ruptured - earthquakes, basequakes, tearing great spars of tritanium free from the deck plating and impaling those who'd been sprinting by screaming, while mad lighting played far overhead, fires and alert claxons, a descending scarlet, heathen glow... A window out on the docking ring to the far right, glimpsed momentarily: starships swinging about the pale blue interior, colliding, scraping, being sundered in two and still dividing as if cellular, fractallising, glinting pieces of duranium as the tyrannical wave tossed by misty Erebus who arose from the Betreka Nebula flowed over the station and cast all into darkness and horror.
He shook himself, having dropped to his knees. He found, during the bleak remembrance, he'd wound up on the promenade; a hand brushed his shoulder as its owner walked by; Blakus turned to look up, "Ah. I'm glad you got out, of the holodeck."
It was Lieutenant Milyanov, his assistant CEO, "I barely made it. Harton..." the man referred to their colleague, and the Russian lieutenant's partner for the last four years... He shook his head, fought back liquid that would soon flow from sorrowful eyes, Algos denied but only a short time.
Andae stood and gripped the man's arm, assisting his forever-loyal and now grief-stricken officer down the promenade. They passed an hour in the makeshift hovel Milyanov had made for himself. He didn't really know what to say and in the end didn't say much; he felt he should just be there for his fellow officer. Milyanov's small hovel and others nearby had been constructed by him and a group of fellow officers, enlisteds and civilians - temporary 'residences' they returned to about every hour or two hours, while the recovery operations continued in earnest, and before they could be reassigned quarters. Would that point even arrive? Blakus thought.
He made his way up as far as he could to Ops. Arriving a couple decks beneath, he ran into an Admiral holding a hand over an eye... He recognised him as Admiral Veblen, the flag officer who'd commanded for a short time the orbital station about SB47 to which Andae had been taken to keep him safe from Rozil, just before the last Raven outing. The Admiral recognised Andae, smiled, and took the hand away from his eye: the socket was empty.
Similar sights assailed him as he made his way down the corridor towards the turbolifts. So shell-shocked had he been in the previous hours of despair, that simple necessities of protocol had fled him (he'd thought, for a while, perhaps never to return...) And thus fear rose within him as he contemplated how flag officers would've of course been caught up in all this as well, "Admiral Torek," his voice was weak over the comm, "Commander Blakus to Admiral Torek. Status, sir... are you alright?" Agony tightened its circles round his head like a boa constrictor's suffocating action.
<Tag Torek, All>
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
"UTRINQUE PARATUS"
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,163
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Post by Carl Torek on Mar 29, 2017 16:05:30 GMT
Event plus three hours thirty minutes ::=^= Commander Vance .. .. Who's this ? =^= =^= Fleet Admiral Torek .. What's happening up there Commander ? =^= =^= It's chaos Admiral .. We have dead and injured .. We are still trying to contact Senior Staff .. We are aware that the Section Admiral and Admiral Savot are both alive and somewhere on the Starbase =^= =^= Anyone else ? =^= =^= Admiral Tetsutaro is being treated for a suspected hip fracture .. We have news of two Captains who's vessels were docked .. They are on their ships trying to sort their own problems out Sir =^= =^= Very well .. I want turbo-lifts working as soon as viable .. Dome to Command first then Dome downwards .. There are going to be a lot more fatalities Commander .. I am going to make my way to the Raven contact me there as soon as you have a means to get me to the Command Center .. Understood =^= =^= But Admi .. .. =^= =^= Do as instructed Commander or find an airlock and cycle yourself out .. Save me the trouble =^= He knew he was completely out of order, and would need to find the man he had vented on and apologise when time permitted, but for now he needed to ensure his Family were safe, then try to make it to the Raven ... ~~~~~~~~~~~~ With the arrival of medical personnel, he kissed Chloe and his Daughters, two still unconscious, Bethan sedated, and left the room. He was fifteen decks above the docking Bay, in the Visiting Crew Quarters, so with no turbo-lifts operational, he had no option but to climb ... He found a Jeffries Tube and in the semi-darkness pulled the cover away. Fifteen decks climb wasn't going to be easy, but he consoled himself that at least he was going down and not climbing ... crawling inside he made his way to the inter-level shaft. He began his descent .... After six decks he thought he heard moaning and stopped, there it was again, he climbed into the darkened Jeffries Tube and found a young woman, she was badly injured, likely due to being tossed around in the tube violently. "Can you talk ?" "Ye, yes." she said, blood oozing from the corner of her mouth. He took off his comm badge and handed it to her: "Call for help ... Someone will come and get you out." he assured her, then with a last look he crawled back to the shaft and continued downwards. It wasn't easy, all of the bulkheads had closed automatically, and with no power he had to manually wind them open, or at least wide enough for him to pass. By the thirteenth level his arms and legs were burning in pain but he dare not stop even for a moment, or he might not get back up ... Finally reaching the deck he needed he entered the Jeffries Tube and crawled to the cover and released it, the odour hit him first, a mixture of burning fuel oils and something more, bodies ! Climbing into the corridor he had a moment of nausea akin to motion sickness, 'the inertial dampers must be pushed past their maximum' he thought, knowing the consequences should they fail. There were people scattered throughout the corridor, injured being treated by whatever help was available, people who had not survived the catastrophe, no-one took the slightest notice of him as he leaned in trying to reassure people so on he continued. He reached one of the large double doors that gave access to the Docking Bay itself and tried to prise them apart. It was possible that something was pushed against the other side preventing them from opening, but he needed to be sure, he looked around: "Crewman, here !" he said to one of the walking wounded nearby, "Grab that bar, jam it into the gap and twist." The man did so and finally the doors gave, once open enough to pass through he turned to the Crewman: "That cut looks nasty, go find someone to deal with it, and thank you for your help." as the crewman staggered away he stepped through the doors onto the wide concourse stretching the length of the Docking Bay. The sight faced was like something out of a nightmare ! ... Bodies, ans body parts were strewn across the length of the deck, people carrying makeshift stretchers were lifting the dead and injured away, injured to the far wall to be assessed, the dead into the storage rooms along the back wall, out of sight, but by no means out of mind ... He looked across at the five meter high plexi-glass windows that made up the other wall. At least two had massive fractures, but were holding, thankfully, as he could see one of the massive space doors had gone, so the Bay beyond was open to vacuum. He took several steps forward, eyes scanning the length of the Bay trying to identify Star Ships, smaller vessels, It was bedlam ... Finally he located the Raven ... The ship was pitched forward and listing to port roughly fifteen degrees. The saucer section was scarred, obviously damaged by collision with the bay, or more likely another ship. It had fared well considering, possibly someone aboard had thought to use the tractor to minimise the movement of the ship, but he knew that would have only lessened the damage, not ensured the ships getting through totally undamaged. He could see no signs of movement but there were lights, which meant the ship still had at least emergency power reserves. He looked left and right. All he had to do was get over there now ..........
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on Mar 31, 2017 22:49:59 GMT
Technician 3rd class Brent Hopkins, docking bay interior of Starbase 47... Event +1:40 hrs
He'd watched as the SS Nautilus had rolled uncontrollably on its collision course with the Prometheus-type nestled in its mooring. A large quantity of debris had already been floating about the interior, and Hopkins had been struck by one and had to conduct ad-hoc emergency repair of his EVA suit to save himself from suffocation; the fragment had sent him spiralling and lodged him in a crack between two adjoining, gargantuan plates of tritanium forming parts of the wall of the dock.
Hopkins was a specialist assigned to the Starbase's maintenance and repair staff. He'd been working on the civilian ship Kamchatka when the... 'wave' had overtaken the station and, despite the unbelievable forces that'd buffeted him throughout the docking bay, he'd managed to stay alive. The dock had plunged into darkness as he'd somehow begun to get the sense that the Starbase had begun to rotate... caught in a sudden maelstrom carrying it across the cosmos.
Now he found four fellow EVAers emerging out of the night - four silvery figures... dead. From insignia, he found they were from the USS Enzio, the ship whose port aft quarter he'd seen struck by the remnant of the SS Nautilus, one nacelle ripped away and the Nautilus - still spinning - scraping along part of the Enzio's dorsal surface before receding into the dock's night...
Shaking and unsure of himself, he regarded his reflection in his suit's visor, peering into the dark pools of his eyes and the empty terror there, an ocular abyss soon to be filled....
Hopkins first registered it - this within the first fraction of a second - as a miniscule luminescent spark behind him and on or near the horizon to which he was able to see (beyond that lay the dark outer seas that lapped up unknown and mysteriously to the lip and edge of the stricken Starbase's dock's interior). He turned to see an indistinct form of a vessel, seeming jagged and fragmented already though that could just be the distance, suddenly lit at its core by white hot light. Instinctively he shielded his eyes... the indistinct vessel ripped itself apart, light from its ruptured core splashing out across the ship's fragmenting surfaces, energy - evidently from its warp system - released in all directions...
The entirety of the bay was lit up momentarily by the near-silent explosion, remains of ships and those intact ships held by piercingly blue tractor beams seen now for an exceedingly brief instant, caught in their postures by the sudden strobe illumination, the fizzling energy of the rapidly expanding mass of destroyed starship. Hopkins had nothing to hold on to, nothing with which to propel himself towards a place of safety from the inevitably coming shockwave. It seemed to be the latest in a chain of ship collisions, this one clearly involving a ship with substantial antimatter reserves; a slow pirouetting, almost beautiful dance of Federation starships brought into fateful collision as the forces involved in their waltz conspired to have them find each other in the darkness - like particles annihiliating each other in the quantum vacuum, except this annihiliation wasn't intangible.
If they didn't know where they were... Hopkins thought dryly, but it hadn't looked good... interminable wreckage piled up throughout the bay. He was once again unable to believe he'd survived this latest destruction... In fact, the pressure wave from it had carried him almost to the USS Enzio, and now it seemed he was about to strike its shield grid, or pass straight through hopefully (surely the generator couldn't have survived?) and somehow get to an airlock. Thankfully, he passed right through where the shield could've been, and was soon knocking at an airlock in the ventral section of the ship.
<Tag Clark>
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 534
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Post by Calli Valente on Apr 1, 2017 23:46:28 GMT
Event minus five minutes ::
Calli had finished her shift an hour late, she had been working with the Communications Officer helping set up new sub-space channels for private use. She was lay on her bed when the first alarm had sounded. it wasn't unusual to hear an alarm, but for it to continue without pause was cause for serious concern. She reached over and tapped the comm link fitted into her table:
=^= Valente to Bridge =^=
=^= Massive pressure wave approaching Commander .. It's going to be bad Sir ! =^=
=^= I'm on my way .. Have the rest of the Senior Staff been informed ? =^=
=^= Yes Sir =^=
She closed the comm and pulled on her boots, she was reaching for her tunic when she felt the shudder through the carpeted floor ... All hell broke loose !
Event plus three hours fifty minutes ::
She opened her eyes, the room was in complete darkness save for two flickering emergency lights above her, she had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She lay still minutely testing her extremities, fingers, wrists, elbows the shoulders, moving them a fraction only just in case of a fracture. Neck next, then ankles & knees, it didn't seem as if she had anything broken thankfully. She pulled herself into a sitting position tentatively looking around her demolished quarters. She looked around for her tunic but couldn't see it so had no option but to get to her feet and move, if her room looked like this, it was clear the ship would be chaotic, she went to her overturned deck and dragged her desk screen from beneath it.
=^= Bridge .. .. .. Bridge .. .. .. Anyone .. .. .. =^=
no use, either it was damaged, or more likely communications were out throughout the ship. she headed for the door wondering why she felt as if she was walking up a very shallow incline. 'Inertial dampers ?' she pondered inwardly. As she approached her door she could hear shouting, moaning, crying from beyond but her door wouldn't open. She pushed, pulled, tried to force it, but no luck, and frustration was growing within her now, something she needed to stem quickly ... She looked for something to use as a lever finally settling on wrenching one of the desk legs off, back at her door she jammed one end in the small gap and heaved, then again, and again, this time it gave, albeit only a fraction. She redoubled her efforts and was able to make a gap wide enough to squeeze through.
The corridor was bedlam, people injured, some clearly dead ... Moving to the nearest turbo-lift she was informed by someone in the semi-darkness that nothing was working, so climb it was, she found a Jeffries Tube and headed up ... Entering the Bridge she was confronted with a scene from a twentieth century horror movie. Blood covered the floor, the Command seats, consoles, and even the ceiling of the once pristine Bridge, the dead had been lay side by side under the view-screen, their upper torso covered by tunics, but the trauma some had suffered was evident by the blood seeping into the carpet around their heads.
"Who is the most senior Officer here ?" she asked. A young woman stood after helping place yet another body beside the others.
"I believe you are Commander." she said, almost matter of factly.
"Do we know what happened ?"
"The nebula Ma'am, the Betreka Nebula exploded !" the Ensign informed her.
"All of it ?!" Calli asked, realising instantly the stupidity of her query.
"Yes ... The shock-wave slammed into us, the last communication said we were being thrown out of position, but then everything went dead." Calli took all this in.
"OK, well we have our own issues. What do we have, Ensign ?"
"Nine dead, with two critical, six of the dead over there are Starbase Tech's three of ours, the two critical are ours too. Commander Wedlerson had been about to leave the Bride but stayed when the alert sounded, he's over there with two other Officers." The woman pointed to the Tactical station, Calli could see the man, dead, unconscious, she didn't know, "He's alive but we can't wake him, I suspect head trauma, possibly coma, but I'm no Medic so ...." she filtered off.
"OK, first things first, get whoever can carry and move the dead into the Conference Room. I'll help with that. I'm assuming Comms are still out ?" the Ensign nodded, "OK, lets hope someone below us has had the presence of mind to send people up here to investigate. Have someone stay with Commander Wedlerson until medical help arrives. OK lets get the unfortunate moved." she said as three other walking wounded arrived to help.
In the Conference Room she looked out of the multi-layered plexi-glass window which ran the length of the room, at first she couldn't recognise what she was looking at, then it dawned on her ... 'The Roof of the Dome !' ... She realised with growing shock that the ship was pitched nose downwards at something approaching seventy degrees, and had rolled to their left about twenty, that explained her sense of moving up an incline in her quarters when she first stood up. It again dawned on her that the inertial dampers and artificial gravity most be working but not at one hundred percent efficiency, her worry, rightly, was the fact that the ship was practically standing on her nose, if the artificial gravity failed, even for a few seconds, everyone would find themselves plummeting into the nearest immovable object, which in most cases would be a bulkhead !
She had to put that out of her mind, dwelling on possible imminent excruciatingly painful death wasn't productive ... She went back to the Bridge to check on Harry but there was no change in his condition, she feared internal bleeding, brain damage.
"We need communications, internal and the Starbase."
"Not going to happen Commander." the Ensign informed her, "There's no-one up here qualified to work on the systems, and we would need power anyway." Calli listened then had a brainwave:
"Torches."
"Excuse me ?" the young woman asked, wondering if her Superior had had a knock on her head and not mentioned it.
"Torches Ensign .... Morse Code !"
"Sorry, I don't underst ....."
"If we can get to a window that overlooks the Docking Bay, we can at least signal for help, let them know our situation."
"Ma'am, I ..."
"Get on it Ensign." She watched the woman walk away and then climb into the Jeffries Tube she had entered the Bridge from earlier. Calli enter the Captain's Ready Room and sat at Carl's desk, she knew that Intelligence had ultra-secure sub-space channels that could be activated in emergency, her problem was there was no power, and the ship was two hundred meters from help not multiples of light years. Carl's terminal was thankfully still working, she manually typed in her access and sent a message. There was no way of knowing if it went any further than the room she was sat in, as the screen went blank a second after she hit 'transmit' ... Sighing, she got up and returned to the Bridge in time to hear something so unexpected it stumped her for a second .....
She walked to the view-screen and listened intently, asking for quiet so she could hear better. There it was again, it was coming from the EVA Air-lock to the left of the view-screen, normally only used in an emergency, it could be used to allow access to the hull directly in front of the screen if required. She stood in front of the inner door waiting expectantly. Then the door began to manually cycle. An EVA-suited figure stepped into the Bridge and raised the gold reflective shield over the face plate.
"CARL ... How the hell !" Calli said, throwing her arms around her half-brother ..........
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Sean O'Toole
Civilian
The Luck O' the Irish
Registered: Aug 13, 2016 0:12:33 GMT
Posts: 59
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Post by Sean O'Toole on Apr 9, 2017 19:42:19 GMT
Event minus fifteen minutes ::It was a typical Friday evening, the Promenade was full of people, and O'Tooles was busy ... Sean had taken on two more girls to help in the bar, and they were needed tonight. The first of his live bands had just begun laying when the alert went out along the Promenade: Every screen in the bar, normally showing the artiste, of prices at the bar began to flash with the same message ! *** ATTENTION *** *** STARBASE LOCKDOWN PROCEDURES COMMENCING *** *** THIS IS NOT A DRILL *** *** ALL BULKHEADS WILL BE SEALED *** The Officers all rose immediately and began filing out while the civilian guests looked around in confusion for a moment before they too began to make their way to the doors. every man, woman, and child above the age of nine years old had been instructed in Star Base procedures, and even visiting species were given all the information they would need in case of an emergency ... The Promenade was in panic, people running towards turbo-lifts to get to whatever place they needed to be. Sean went to the doors seeing the same message on every monitor and information board as far as he could see. If this was some sort of 'drill' it was not being handled very well, what Star Fleet Officers were there were trying desperately to stem the rush but with little success.One of his new staff came over to stand with him and Kara, his Assistant Manager: "Do you think we should leave Sean ?" the young girl asked. Sean O'Toole, the owner of the bar wasn't convinced it was a good idea. Opposite, bulkheads began to slowly lower over the shop fronts, normally hidden from view, their appearance made those on the Promenade fear even more what was to come. Were they under attack, was there a problem with the matter/anti-matter cores that powered the four kilometer high Star Base ? again he looked at the screens, but they were still displaying the same message. The bar was empty now save for Kira, six staff, and Sean himself. If they stepped into the throng of people rushing past the door they could find themselves in more trouble. "There's the back room, where Carl usually meets ?" Kira suggested. Sean wasn't sure but the secure room did seem the safer of the two options. He looked at one of the screens opposite and the message made his decision for him: *** SHOCK-WAVE WILL IMPACT STAR BASE IN THREE MINUTES *** *** SHOCK-WAVE WILL IMPACT STAR BASE IN THREE MINUTES *** *** DECOMPRESSION PROTOCOLS NOW ACTIVATED *** He stepped back into the bar, the emergency bulk-head, held in place due to his presence, now began to lower into place, he looked around: "Grab everything padded .... Seat covers, towels, coats, anything that we can use as protection ... now girls if you please !" he said, running the length of the bar to the panel that gave access to the one room that could possibly save their lives. As he ran he thought about the new message 'Shock-wave impact' what the hell could generate a shock-wave big enough to worry millions and millions of tonnes of Star Base ! ... he didn't have time to ponder the question as the screen was showing a countdown now. *** TIME TO IMPACT ***
.. 00:01:53 .. .. 00:01:52 .. .. 00:01:51 .. "Bloody hell, they do love their dramatics." he muttered under his breath as he ran back to help with the bars seats ... In the back room they put everything against the walls, seats first, blankets, towels, coats, anything they could find while Sean threw out the meagre furnishings, a table, chairs, mobile bar, other things that in his opinion could act like ballistic missiles in a small room, cascading off walls and people without preference. Once they were ready he activated the door and sealed it, lowering the outer blast shield for good measure. "Wrap youreselves up and pull some of the seats around you, get up against a wall 'NOT' in the open." he looked at the screen: *** TIME TO IMPACT ***
.. 00:00:16 .. .. 00:00:15 .. .. 00:00:14 .. "Get underneath ... NOW !" he said as the first vibrations began to penetrate the room ...... Event plus five hours ten minutes ::Pushing the seat and towels away Sean looked around the darkened room. It was clear they had lost consciousness, must likely due to the force of the impact. "Kira .... Kira .... Can you hear me ? ... Ally, Michelle, anyone ?" he saw something move in the gloom and crawled over to it just as Kira's hand and arm emerged from beneath a pile of fabric and wood. She was cut on her face and neck, blood had been flowing but had dried, which he took as a good sign, he moved close and kissed her, "Have you heard anyone else trying to call out ?" he asked. "Over there." she said, pointing to where the wall seemed to be bowed inwards, possibly due to something slamming into it from the bar, or possibly the bar itself. They crawled over to where Kira had seem movement and pulled away the seat covers. Four of his staff were there, alas only one was looking at him, Michele, her face dirty and covered in dried tears, she shook her head as Sean began to look for a pulse on the others. He heard a moan over to the other side of the room and made his way there, Ally, the new member of staff was hugging her knees in the foetal position, he asked her to look at him and if she had any broken bones. She said no and began to climb from her protective cocoon of seats, coats, rolls of tissue. The survivors gathered in the middle of the room, Sean had gone back to where he had found Michele and had covered the deceased girls. Once done he want to the door, pulling everything away then he tried the release button, but with no effect. He tried again, and again, finally admitting it wasn't going to work. He opened the small panel beside the door and grasped the manual release lever, but it too was stuck, he tightened his grip and placed his other hand on the door for leverage, he withdrew it instantly ! "Whats the matter Sean ?" Kira asked. "The door ...." he said, "It's HOT !" ..........
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Aeryn Tavik
Command Staff ..
Members Representative
Lieutenant Colonel
Registered: Sept 9, 2010 12:14:15 GMT
Posts: 95
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Post by Aeryn Tavik on Apr 11, 2017 9:23:04 GMT
The Enzio had reported to Starbase Forty-Seven after the long trip from Earth. After the mess with Korcawski, the warp highway, and all the action in between, Aeryn found that she had had enough of it for a few days. The crew had been granted shore leave while the Enzio was being overhauled. Normally, this wouldn’t happen but once every few years, but with as much action as the Section Forty Seven fleet saw, it wasn’t hard to need that extra bit of help from the base. And Starbase Forty-Seven was certainly up to the task. Hundreds of ships came and went during any given week. You had trade boats, Starfleet ships, pleasure cruisers…. You name it, they were at Starbase Forty Seven. In fact, Aeryn had a couple weeks leave she’d been saving up, consider to hit a cruiser. In the meantime, however, she’d settle for what amusement she could find on base.
Event Minus One Hour
Donning her usual off duty garb, cargo pants with appropriate boots and what she deemed a “cute top,” Aeryn set off onto the base for some much needed relaxation time. She’d been the recipient of a few invitations from her fellow marines and a few other crewmen, but she opted to turn them down and find her own source of pleasure. She’d spent many hours at O’Tooles on the Alpha promenade level and opted to go for a more unique experience. She decided to head down to the Delta Promenade deck, where there were bars filled with all sorts of vermin of ill refute. It was the deck that housed a…. lesser quality of clientele, or at least that was the general consensus. That’s not to say one couldn’t find a rat on any deck of the base, but one was sure to find one on Delta Deck. Conveniently, it was located directly above the marine barracks (she made a mental note to ask Admiral Gheskori if that was intentional), so too much couldn’t happen. But with any luck, she’d find herself some trouble to get into.
Event Minus Fifteen Minutes
Aeryn had settled on a bar with a certainly questionable atmosphere. For her mood, it was perfect. Dingy, smoke filled (for a variety of reasons), loud, and overly downtrodden. There were a few areas that housed a dabo table, as well as a couple of Dam Jat tables and card players. The bar was situated to one end of the deck, away from the main turbolift and a reasonable distance from any other locale. Aeryn sat quietly in the corner, facing most of the room. It was still a reasonably tactical move, but she felt she had left herself somewhat inviting, though no one had as yet taken advantage of the opportunity. She was sipping a whisky from some deep space planetoid that she’d never heard of. It was rather intoxicating. After having only two drinks, she started feeling herself move to a “happy place.”
Suddenly, the alert klaxons went off and Aeryn heard an announcement that lockdown procedures were taking effect. She downed her last bit of the whisky and proceeded out the door, planning to try to make it back to the Enzio. It was unlikely that she’d make it, but she was going to try. The hustle and bustle of the now frantic crowd of Delta Deck made it difficult to wade through. Try as she might, it was nearly impossible to move.
Event
The station shook violently once and twice. Aeryn, along with many others, was thrown to the floor. Trying to regain her balance and brace for whatever impact was coming, she stood forward and reached for a railing. Sparks flew everywhere as the impact came. The damage just seemed to multiply around her. All she could think about was that this was the worst way to go. She suddenly heard a deafening bang and felt a fast and heavy rush. The bulkhead separating Delta Deck on outside space had ruptured, exposing the deck to space. As the atmosphere raged outwards and the artificial gravity weakened, Aeryn, still holding the railing, crossed her arms around the railing as best she could. She looked around and saw several people be blown out into space. As she was looking away, a piece of debris came towards her and hit on the side, she lost her grip and began to be blown into space.
The emergency force fields then kicked in and the atmosphere normalized and the gravity came back on. She fell nearly twenty five feet and landed on what was left of the bulkhead with a crash. Winded, she opened her eyes and looked to the left and right, trying to get her bearings. A sharp pain came from her right leg and she looked down to see that she’d landed on her leg in an awkward way. It was broken. She closed her eyes and tried to move, but couldn’t get herself to go. She heard a loud creak from above, looked up, and opened her eyes. The last thing she saw was a broken piece of the upper bulkhead crashing downward, coming directly at her...
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Simon Clark
Lt. Commander
Registered: Dec 1, 2016 22:21:10 GMT
Posts: 153
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Post by Simon Clark on Apr 11, 2017 19:29:03 GMT
USS Enzio, in dock, main bridge. Event +1.40 hrs
Lieutenant Simon Clark was single-handedly manning the bridge engineering station. With his left arm strapped across his chest, and a hovering medical hologram somewhere on the bridge, he was working at half pace. With the headache, and only sketchy data feeds from the ship, keeping everything in scope to report was proving tricky. The computer core for the tertiary hull was helping where it could, and hindering in other ways. Several new lines of text appeared on his console. Simon pointed his focus, such as it was, into interpreting them.
"Commander, Ensign Heath reports that warp core alpha is now online, running at fifty-six percent normal output, and climbing. Main batteries at twelve percent and climbing. Inertial dampeners across most of the primary hull are stable, except port side sections damaged by debris on decks five through seven, and where plasma conduits ruptured on deck six. Plasma leaks on those decks have been isolated. The engineering teams are moving into those areas."
"The Comms?" the commander asked. When Ensign Rivers had told the commander the identities of the deceased, he had gone quiet. The shift in character that followed was stark. He would accept no humour, he demanded unreasonable information regularly, and berated the bridge crew.
"We've rudimentary data coming through the comm-badge system. Main communications are still down, Sir." he replied.
"I'm aware of that. Here's another fact, Lieutenant: I want this ship running. When it is not, I want the repair schedule. Is that CLEAR?" The last word was delivered in a shout.
Simon swallowed. His head was pounding. He glanced at his console, and back at the centre seat, nervously. "Yes, Sir. I will produce a more detailed schedule. I will have a repair forecast in half an hour sir."
The commander was breathing heavily, his body visibly tense. He seemed to realise this, and sank back into his chair. The medical hologram approached him.
"Commander, I have an urgent matter that requires your attention,"
"Yes?"
"It's a sensitive issue, Sir. Perhaps, in your ready room?" The hologram said.
"Here, will, suffice."
"Sir." The doctor's voice was calm, but now with an edge like steel, "Your ready room."
"I SAID, HERE!" the commander shouted. The pressure on the bridge was palpable. The commander was shaking.
The doctor cleared his throat, and maintained eye contact with the commander. The commander stood, all eyes on him. He did not speak. Simon met his pained eyes, radiating barely controlled thunder, and immediately looked down at his console. The commander crossed the foam-free deck to the door opposite. The doctor followed him through the door.
"What was that?" Tactical asked.
"The commander lost a close friend, Lieutenant." Ensign Rivers replied, "And you have the conn." Her steady voice threaded with emotion.
Before the tactical officer could move, an alarm went off on his panel. "What?"
"Antimatter explosion, twelve seconds to impact." Ensign Rivers told him.
"Port side," tactical said, "Helm, rotate ventral shield to face the epicentre."
"We'll try. Countdown?" he asked.
"Nine seconds," she counted.
=/\= Helm to tractor control, fore and aft. Roll the ship forty-five degrees, eight seconds. =/\=
=/\= All hands, this is the bridge. Brace for impact in seven seconds =/\=
=/\= Clark to engineering teams. Divert all available power to inertial dampeners, structural integrity and holo systems =/\=
"Five. Engineering, reactivate holo-foam on the bridge."
Simon keyed the command into the computer, and felt the partially transparent shock absorber appear around his feet.
"Ship is rolling, twelve degrees, we'll make thirty five."
"Three seconds."
"Compensating with tertiary attitude controls, we might make thirty-seven"
"Brace!"
+++ USS Enzio, in dock, Deck 10, outside Cargo Bay 1. Event + 1:52 hrs
The doors to opened a crack and air rushed to equalise the pressure.
"My tricorder is showing life-signs in the cargo bay. Pass my lamp." A column of white spilled onto the unrestrained containers, "Anyone hurt in here?"
The door was forced wider, and a yellow Star Fleet uniform slid through, the slight figure of a female Bolian. Light circled the bay as she moved her arm. The door opened fully with a bang.
"Sorry, Brexon," the engineering technician behind her said.
"Careful. See if you can find them."
The two scanned through the cargo bay, stepping over unrestrained containers and the spilled liquid content, splattered across the floor. "What is this goo?"
"Reserve replicator matter," Brexon replied.
"What? This gets turned into food?"
"These are organics. Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen, all stored as relatively inert chemicals. The main tank was full."
"It stinks."
The Bolian was unimpressed with this comment. "Keep looking. I'm going to try there, near the airlock. You search the other corner."
Tricorder in hand, Brexon followed the distinct signal of the elusive life form. It was close. "Can anyone hear me?" She asked, closing on the edge of the room.
"There's no one here, Brex. We should... What's that sound?"
Brexon tuned the tricorder to pinpoint the muffled sound. "Something is hitting the hull, from the outside." She peered through the tiny inner airlock window. "It's a person. Open the airlock."
"There's no power, Brex."
"Airlocks have emergency power. You know, in case of an emergency exit."
"Or entrance? Shouldn't we ask security?"
"Are your comms working? Just open the door, and I won't report you to Heath. I'll monitor with the tricorder. The internal sensors are down, and there's an air leak here somewhere."
"Sure, sure," The technician opened the override panel and triggered the outer airlock. The person in the EVA suit pulled themselves inside, and the technician ran a sing-song commentary, much to Brexon's frustration, "Now we close the outer door, now we check the seal alarm, now we pressurise the... oh... there's no alarm."
The figure knocked on the inner door. He was waving through the window, and pointing at the base of the outer airlock.
"The airlock door is damaged. Maybe the alarm circuit has been broken," Brexon said.
"Another one for the list."
"Enough," Brexon, despite the tendency of her species to be gregarious, positive and outgoing, found this trait, in this particular human, to be annoying. She gestured through the window for the person to hold tight. They braced themselves against the handholds on the walls. "Air it up, see if it holds."
"Air's going in. It's got to about half atmosphere, it's not going to get above that. I'm turning it off."
"We aren't going to leave him there," she picked up some of the loose cargo straps and created a secure harness for them both, and a spare line for their visitor. She waved it at him through the window. Their guest nodded. "Will those shelves move?"
"Nah, bolted down. It's going to get real windy in here. You sure about this?"
"That's what these are for," Brexon fixed the strapping to the shelves, and to themselves, "Air it up, then open the door. I'll throw the rope, he can climb out. When he's through, seal the airlock."
"What about the pressure, won't we be sucked out?"
"Of course not. Just don't hold your breath. Ready?"
"No. Airing up. Opening the-"
There was a short rush of air as the door opened, Brexon could feel the pressure building behind her ears. The strap wasn't required. Once the pressure between the cargo bay and the airlock has equalised, their guest walked in against slow moving air, and hit the button on the control panel to seal the airlock, over the head of the technician cowering in front of it. The door closed, and sealed, and the brief flow of air from the corridor faded out. It was somewhat anticlimactic.
The figure released the catch on the EVA helmet and removed it.
"Thank you, you may just have saved my life," he said, extending his hand, "Brent Hopkins, technician third class. Starbase maintenance and repair."
Brexon took the hand and shook it, surprised by the formal introduction, "Brexon, technician first class. Welcome to the Enzio," she replied.
<Tag Gheskori>
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Matthew Reynolds
Rear Admiral
"It's good to have an end to a journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end."
Registered: Apr 28, 2005 20:58:32 GMT
Posts: 2,759
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Post by Matthew Reynolds on Apr 11, 2017 23:16:18 GMT
"How many so far Caleb?" Matt asked as he finished helping a young Caitian child. If they were lucky they would be able to save her life, but she had lost both of her legs and most of her right arm.
"On this deck, we have a confirmed 4000 dead, we are overwhelmed, but are doing what we can," Caleb replied bitterly. While Caleb had known death in his life, he had never experienced it in such numbers. The men and women of Starfleet who were able had been helping non stop since he regained consciousness. His father, Admiral Matthew Reynolds, had refused medical treatment for the ever growing bump on his head. The doctor had been ready to argue, but she didn't have the time to deal with an angry Starfleet Admiral.
"Have we been able to coordinate with Admiral Torek or Admiral Sato?" Matt asked as he motioned his son to follow him to the next triage area.
"No, things are moving to quickly for anyone pay attention to me," Caleb said as he took his tricorder and scanned an injured gentlemen that was in distress. As Matt approached he immediately knew that they were not going to be able to help this man. The left side of his stomach was missing, somehow torn away during the shock wave.
"Help me, help me!" the man begged between groans of despair.
"I'm sorry, there is nothing I can. I don't know how to help you," Caleb replied fresh tears forming in his eyes," I will stay with you. I won't let you be alone."
Matt wanted to reach out to his son and help him during this difficult experience, but he could not wait. He needed to help anyone that required aide. The scale of this tragedy was immense and they were just beginning to triage those that needed it. Matt would continue to help where he could, he would do so until his body would not allow him to. His family luckily had been spared from any serious injury; many men and women under his command were not as fortunate.
"Ensign help me raise this debris, there could be people under there," Matt ordered hoping to maybe get some good news and find survivors......
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on Apr 12, 2017 10:44:15 GMT
EVENT:
Lieutenant Vren, Enzio marine quartermaster, made his way along Delta deck amidst the humanoid crush, it suddenly becoming much denser, thicker, now virtually impossible to move in, as a living wave rippled through it from a nearby... rather dingy looking bar. He was slightly surprised to see the Colonel emerge from it, pushing her way through along with everybody else, and then Vren tried to make for the nearby turbolift as the rattling got ever more severe and he blacked ou------
- a rushing, clattering maelstrom of debris and bodies coruscated about him as he fell amongst them and into the eye of their storm, falling heavily on his side on what seemed to be uneven ground - in fact was a mass of flesh and shorn machinery. Recovering his wits and amazed that he was still able to do so, that was, amazed that he was still conscious, aware, alive, Vren saw the section of the bulkhead as it began to contort and twist itself free from the greater mass... it creaked and shrieked, sounds which found their echo in the screams of people all around him and across... 'wherever' this was.
He estimated there was a gap of fifteen metres between him and the falling piece of bulkhead, and about the same distance again between a still smaller piece of the bulkhead now falling and the prone Colonel Tavik, his CO. Not having much time, he set off at a sprint, finding himself hobbling, and crashed himself into the bulkhead section, deflecting it just enough before it could make contact with the stricken Colonel.
Technician 3rd class Brent Hopkins, docking bay interior of Starbase 47... Event +2:00 hrs
"Brexon, technician first class. Welcome to the Enzio," she replied.
"Thanks..." He looked around; the bay was darkened, the power systems of the Enzio clearly having had trouble keeping plasma flowing regularly to the required areas. He spotted the chemicals which, from the looks of them, seemed to have been creeping along the floor towards the airlock during the inner door's opening. "It stinks," he observed.
"That's what I said!" the Enzio technician accompanying Brexon exclaimed.
He ignored the man and turned to the Bolian, "Sir, if there is anything I can do... anywhere I can help out, I'd be honoured."
<Tag Clark/Brexon>
He looked back at the airlock briefly, "I saw a lot of people lose their lives out there, spilling from holes torn in the bay, from ship collisions... the like..." He seemed to stare off into a place infinitely distant for a moment, dark pools of eyes still haunted by the thicker shadow, the spectre of his waking nightmares since the shockwave had made its impact - and that still only two hours ago.
"Who's in command?" he asked, as the trio strolled the corridors, making their way past a ruptured EPS relay. "I heard Admiral Gheskori made it back to the base. Comm interference," he explained at the startled looks - how could he have known? - "Everything went haywire in the minutes before the impact - I picked up a transmission from the Admiral's shuttle... He was wounded, apparently."
"On the ship, about ten minutes before the impact," the unknown technician replied. "The CMO recommended he go to the Starbase for treatment - he was headed there anyway - and to go by shuttlecraft. We weren't moored at the time and the initial pressure wave had knocked out transporters."
Event +9:40 hrs
"Colonel... Colonel Tavik!" Private Yulchyk demanded his CO's attention. Finally she stirred. "You alright, sir? Can you move that leg?"
"Was that Vren?"
Yulchyk paused, then nodded, "He's in a coma. He may have saved your life, sir." Yulchyk and several civilians he'd accosted started dragging the Enzio SMO from the rubble. How on... Earth, were they going to get to or even find a sickbay?
OOC: Let's see if we can start moving on a bit closer to the time of the staff briefing now, guys (Gheskori's briefing above where he's being bombarded with questions from civilians, reporters and so on, which is at +33:54 hrs after the event). We needn't go all the way up to it immediately, but let's see if we can start pushing forward through the hours. Great work so far!
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Deis Irae
Commander
Savot: "Doctor, put down the hypospray." Deis: "No way pointy, this ship's mine!" [2003]
Registered: Sept 27, 2013 3:30:12 GMT
Posts: 116
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Post by Deis Irae on Apr 12, 2017 21:48:32 GMT
::For a precious 10 minutes, Commander Irae sits in the chair that belonged to Dr. Chavet no more than a couple of days ago. The Doctors office hadnt had much in the way of personalization and thats a good thing as most of its equipment now lay in a jumble across the room. 14 hours after the Event, the screams had quieted down. The groans had eased to mumbles. Sickbay was far less busy as the "dealt with" had been sent out in emergency crews all over the El Salvador to help wherever they could. News trickled in bits and pieces. A hull breach had sucked 4 people into chill oblivion. After getting as many people back on their feet as possible, recieving reports in from the rest of the ship, and then making a count of those literally stacked in quarantine...the death toll had mounted above more than 120 people. The hull breaches, exploding consoles, unsecured equipment, initial impact, and then the combat triage necessary...well...these things had devastated the crew of the El Sal. Noone could have been prepared to take such a massive hit while sitting in spacedock. Even Deis had a dark bruise around one of her eyes...from some poor patient in much pain and out of his head. He had a hell of a left hook, even while prone.::
::As the patients went from dire and dying to limping and just needing dermal regeneration, the few nurses and even the EMH had sent her off. Just to take a break before getting back to the less urgent care. Someone had found a cup of coffee somewhere and shoved it into her oddly blooded hand. She'd drank it while her body realized that it did need a few minutes of sitting before she lept back up and dove back into the fray. She never thought she would be back in sickbay like this. Never thought she would have to use battle medicine in this fashion again. She hadnt believed that she was still a doctor, even deep down.::
::But now she sits in the defunct CMO's office, newly emptied cup rapidly cooling, with at least 5 different species blood on her hands...or smeared on her sleeves. Its seeing that multicolored mess that gets her standing again, shrugging out of her jacket and letting it drop. Nobody incomming to sickbay needed to see that. Nor did they need to see her in the state she is currently in. Because finally, at long last...its gotten to her. It was when she helped an orderly take the last body into the quarantine bay...and realized that they had nowhere to put him. Someone had handed her a cup of coffee and told her to take 5. Sounded like a good idea. It isnt for herself, its for the El Salvador as a whole...Deis Irae cries. Silently and without dramatics. For the first time in longer than she cares to remember. Until there is a crackling over the comms system. Its hard to tell who it is thats speaking...but it is a glorious sound that shakes Deis out of her little moment of shock::
=/\=hssssssshhhhh ...working. Yes! Internal comms operational! External and subspace communications comming in...um...someone.=/\=
::It isnt until the comms are working that Deis begins to think about everyone outside this ship. Lord have mercy. There is no telling how many people on the other ships and on the station are in the exact same situation right now. That is more than enough to get her up and out of that office and back to work. With a quickly sleeve dried face.::
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
"UTRINQUE PARATUS"
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,163
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Post by Carl Torek on Apr 13, 2017 19:19:14 GMT
Event plus five hours nineteen minutes :: As he drifted across the void between the airlock and the drifting USS Raven-C he knew what he was doing was incredibly stupid ... Sporadic readings from beyond the bulkhead indicated the enormous Starbase was travelling at many hundreds of kilometers per second, should it suddenly be caught, or clip a gravitational eddy, everything now seemingly hanging would begin to move toward the source, and if he was caught between the ship and the inner hull, well ..... Finally making it to the Raven, he tried the dorsal airlock without luck. The power unit attached to his EVA suit was bleeding power, and he didn't have much time to find a way in, or suffocate ! He had planned to drop to the Engineering Section but something said he would have more luck with the Bridge emergency lock. It was high on the saucer section and would have been away from the damage from the collision the ship had suffered when it slammed into the dock. The suit helpfully informed him that he had six minutes of air left so Engineering was out of the question, he pushed himself away from the hull gingerly, rotating and activating the micro-jets for three seconds. With more luck than good judgement he passed around the outer edge of the saucer and began to move up towards the dome. His suit spluttered suddenly and he checked the status readings on the sleeve pad. He was down to eight seconds' worth of propellant, so it was reach the outer hatch or drift past and likely dying from asphyxiation before he hit the hull ... * Warning :: Thirty Seconds of Oxygen Remaining * Entering the code with the thick EVA gloves on and his rapidly rising confusion through lack of oxygen was proving difficult, but through the haze he saw the door slid aside ..... Pulling himself in he attached the emergency hose to his suit, then as he felt the cold oxygen he cycled the airlock. Satisfied he was in no danger he checked that there was an atmosphere on the other side of the inner door then cycled that too. "CARL ... How the hell !" Calli said, throwing her arms around her half-brother. Someone helped take off his helmet and then help remove the suit. "Calli, you're OK ... Good." he said, looking around the Bridge noting the lack of injured, or deceased, "What's our status Calli ?" he asked. Slowly she informed him of the dead and where she had had them put, they had partial internal Comms and had already heard sporadically from at least one other vessel. "I need you to make 'ship to base' comms an absolute priority OK, get someone on that now. Have you had any luck ?" he asked, knowing she would know what he was referring to, but she shook her head. So that comm route is out too he realised as he moved around the Bridge reassuring those working, "If need be we will have to set up a hard-wire communication channel to the Starbase, I need to talk to all Flag ranked Officers still capable. I'm assuming we have zero in the way of drive systems, no thrusters, nothing ?" again Calli said no. "Carl, what about Chloe, Bethan, Vanessa ?" she asked. "They're OK, on the base." he said, distractedly, he needed to find out who was still alive from Command and who wasn't. They needed to start making plans. Slowing the Starbase would need to take highest priority once the Medical Staff were on top of the injured and dead, but how they would be able to achieve that was beyond him given the four kilometer high Starbase was completely without power of any form, or at least, any that could have all but a minuscule affect on their speed. He knew that coming over here was for his own reassurance that his ship and crew had survived and nothing more, but he needed to go back ... "I think we could possibly get the solid fuel thrusters on-line, but controlling them might be difficult, to say the least." Harry Wedlerson said. "Good to see you Harry." Carl said, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment, "See if you can reorient the Raven with the dock, if we can we might be able to hard dock." "We should have a direct link with power and comm too." Calli said, moving to the Tactical Station. Event plus six hours forty minutes ::"Sir, I can't guarantee we'll get a confirmed lock, I'm doing all this visually." Harry said from the Captains Ready Room. The door was open and Wedlerson was passing instructions back to both Carl and Calli, who were stood beside Engineering Section Two ... They would fire the solid boosters in sequence as Harry ordered. If all went well the Raven still listing at approximately five degrees to Port, 'should' inch towards the extended dock, "On my say, fire two, four, eight and ten, three seconds only or we'll not be able to stop!" he said, eyes on the outer rim of the saucer section. he had marked on the plexi-glass where the air-lock was situated so as long as he remained still they shouldn't miss. It didn't stop him from crossing his fingers though, "Three seconds .... Now." At first it seemed as if nothing was happening, but then he noticed a small change, they were inching sideways. "On my say ... Fire three, five, fourteen ....... Now." Something caught his eye and he looked off to the side, eyes widening. There, drifting into view was a shuttle, a worker-bee to be precise. Powerless itself, it had either been moving around the dock in a random pattern, changing direction as it collided with something, or the Raven herself had initiated it's sudden appearance, either way it was not good. He put his head back on the frame beside the window, aligning the marks up again, eyes now flicking between the edge of their hull, the slowly approaching dock, and the drifting shuttle. he didn't see the point in informing the others of the situation, they had enough on their proverbial plates, because even travelling at less than a centimeter per second once they fired the thrusters, hitting the dock would cause damage even to the three point two million tonnes of Raven. Mentally counting down and guessing the distances, he watched the worker-bee drift below the upper edge of the saucer. It was all going to be down to luck from here, if the shuttle was trapped between the ship and dock there would be zero chance of holding position, in fact the Raven would likely be pushed away due to shear inertial forces. It was a basic premise that every action had an opposite and equal reaction ... He closed his eyes, picturing their relative positions and knew he was out of time: "On my say .... Fire seven, nine, eleven, thirteen, three seconds 'ONLY' .... Please Sirs." he added as almost an afterthought, he counted off the seconds silently then, "Now !" The extended dock was flexible, within limits obviously, so something being one, even two meters out of line on approach will be monitored and if need be the dock will adjust to make a connection automatically, but that was when everything was working as it should, he had no way of knowing, apart from the marks on the glass, if he was anywhere close. There was no indication that the enormous Sovereign Class vessel had come to a halt, but suddenly flotsam began rising over the Port side of the hull ! ... He went back to the Bridge, resisting the urge to shrug dramatically. "We need to go down to the airlock, there's no way to tell from here if we even hit it, let alone latched on." he said. Carl began to head for the turbo-lift: "We're climbing down." Calli said, heading towards the Jeffries Tube access ..........
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