Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2017 14:17:23 GMT -8
"Mr. Kotembe, perhaps Mr. Star can take you under his wing and provide you with some help in that regard should the opportunity present itself while you're training on the Talon."
Something between a thrill and a nervous spasm shot through Tavin. Firstly, because the paper he'd read about the things made star streams sound ridiculously awesome. Secondly, because actually learning how to navigate the things was a ridiculously frightening concept, mingled with something ridiculously exciting. Commander Kinin didn't seem quite as excited, for whatever reason, but she still answered the Commandant's request/order in the affirmative.
And then Tavin smelled it, at roughly the same time as everyone else. Wrinkling his nose, he swung back to the control panel, eyes sweeping towards the few ops readouts he had access to up here, just to check. Something about it was...but no, everything was green, and the Commander stepped in, instructing Callen to up the ventilator. That was one way to fix it, he supposed, and keeping an eye on the status, Tavin sat back, confident that the rest of their trip would go well.
Only, of course, it didn't.
"Repeat, this is the USS Sikorsky, we are experiencing massive systems failures and are entering the gravitational field of Peleg."
Tavin had found himself unceremoniously ejected from the pilot's seat--which, of course, was just fine by him. He wasn't the most spectacular pilot under the best of circumstances, and the fact that literally nothing was working the way it was supposed to didn't help.
They really, really should have paid more attention to that smell.
Sliding into an empty seat, Tavin pulled the safety restraints up around himself. The writing was on the wall: the only thing up in the air now was whether they'd be vaporized on impact or not. He was hoping not. That would suck. And he'd never get to enjoy the wonders of Peleb, either, which would suck even more than, you know, being dead. Maybe. His priorities were probably out of wack.
"We are going down. Everyone, strap yourselves in! Prepare for impact!"
Tavin took a deep breath, ducking his head down and steeling himself, ready for the inevitable. The runabout's engines gave one last, valiant effort, and they bumped down a bit harder than usual, sliding to a stop. Commander Kinin came past a moment later as Tavin undid his restraints, ruefully rubbing a quickly-developing bump on his cheek.
"The planet is a Class M planet, with slightly heavier gravity than you will find on a standard starship. But we should check-"
Everything was going to be okay.
Only, of course, their streak of bad luck apparently wasn't done. With a glimmer, the Commandant and the Commander both disappeared, snatched away by a transporter beam that definitely wasn't Starfleet. Into the shocked silence, S'rah spoke, offering a rundown of the situation. She wasn't wrong.
"It would appear so. Do we have a working transmitter? Anything at all?"
Right. Tavin swung his chair back around, trying to pull up something--anything. Emergency power gave him an error message, at least, which meant there was something pumping, but also unfortunately meant he couldn't see how bad everything was. "The transponder is still active," he offered, because that at least he could see, blinking feebly up in the top corner. "If we get into the power systems, if nothing's too fried, we can maybe reroute something, keep it going. Or get some control," he offered, swinging back to face the others. "We're just a planet away from that other ship, right? The Talon?" That was it's name. "If we can get directed communications online again, we could get a message to them."
Tag: Ensign Tekison Nevir, @keith, Cadet S'rah Callen, @hudson
Something between a thrill and a nervous spasm shot through Tavin. Firstly, because the paper he'd read about the things made star streams sound ridiculously awesome. Secondly, because actually learning how to navigate the things was a ridiculously frightening concept, mingled with something ridiculously exciting. Commander Kinin didn't seem quite as excited, for whatever reason, but she still answered the Commandant's request/order in the affirmative.
And then Tavin smelled it, at roughly the same time as everyone else. Wrinkling his nose, he swung back to the control panel, eyes sweeping towards the few ops readouts he had access to up here, just to check. Something about it was...but no, everything was green, and the Commander stepped in, instructing Callen to up the ventilator. That was one way to fix it, he supposed, and keeping an eye on the status, Tavin sat back, confident that the rest of their trip would go well.
Only, of course, it didn't.
"Repeat, this is the USS Sikorsky, we are experiencing massive systems failures and are entering the gravitational field of Peleg."
Tavin had found himself unceremoniously ejected from the pilot's seat--which, of course, was just fine by him. He wasn't the most spectacular pilot under the best of circumstances, and the fact that literally nothing was working the way it was supposed to didn't help.
They really, really should have paid more attention to that smell.
Sliding into an empty seat, Tavin pulled the safety restraints up around himself. The writing was on the wall: the only thing up in the air now was whether they'd be vaporized on impact or not. He was hoping not. That would suck. And he'd never get to enjoy the wonders of Peleb, either, which would suck even more than, you know, being dead. Maybe. His priorities were probably out of wack.
"We are going down. Everyone, strap yourselves in! Prepare for impact!"
Tavin took a deep breath, ducking his head down and steeling himself, ready for the inevitable. The runabout's engines gave one last, valiant effort, and they bumped down a bit harder than usual, sliding to a stop. Commander Kinin came past a moment later as Tavin undid his restraints, ruefully rubbing a quickly-developing bump on his cheek.
"The planet is a Class M planet, with slightly heavier gravity than you will find on a standard starship. But we should check-"
Everything was going to be okay.
Only, of course, their streak of bad luck apparently wasn't done. With a glimmer, the Commandant and the Commander both disappeared, snatched away by a transporter beam that definitely wasn't Starfleet. Into the shocked silence, S'rah spoke, offering a rundown of the situation. She wasn't wrong.
"It would appear so. Do we have a working transmitter? Anything at all?"
Right. Tavin swung his chair back around, trying to pull up something--anything. Emergency power gave him an error message, at least, which meant there was something pumping, but also unfortunately meant he couldn't see how bad everything was. "The transponder is still active," he offered, because that at least he could see, blinking feebly up in the top corner. "If we get into the power systems, if nothing's too fried, we can maybe reroute something, keep it going. Or get some control," he offered, swinging back to face the others. "We're just a planet away from that other ship, right? The Talon?" That was it's name. "If we can get directed communications online again, we could get a message to them."
Tag: Ensign Tekison Nevir, @keith, Cadet S'rah Callen, @hudson