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wintersoldier
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EliteCommander
Mog
Fetzen
ButtsnBalls
Noctis
Damycles
Quest AbandonerDarnell hissed as the cold pack touched the back of his head. It felt like someone had stamped on his face and back of neck, which is probably exactly what happened in that toilet as the Jotunheim crashed. He’d been on the floor with Ezra crouched over him, pushing at each wall. Then they’d been weightless, crashing around like they were inside a washing machine. Then he’d blacked out for a bit, and had only really just got his shit together now.
The med bay was overrun, so he was sitting on a couch in the corridor outside the mess hall. Ezra sat next to him, applying finishing touches to the stitched up cut on his arm. The mercenary had taken his helmet off and put it on the floor between his feet; this guy had greying black hair, dark searching eyes and moisturised, slightly paunchy skin. Paler and a bit older than Darnell had expected, but still undeniably fit and dangerous.
“We should go up there, straighten some things out.” Darnell said, dabbing the ice pack down his neck.
“You have a concussion, makes you not think straight.”
“If only they’d listened to me, we could’ve defended that hangar until Tamerlane sent troops.”
“You may be right.”
“Of course i’m fucking right, just look at you mate.”
Ezra chuckled - the first time Darnell had heard him do that. It sounded like sand dunes shifting in the wind, a dry crackling.
“Now we’re God knows where, probably some other solar system based on these masks they gave out.” Tyreese added.
“I thought that just equipment failure. We somewhere remote, not dangerous. Scotland maybe?”
Darnell paused, realising he may have not mentioned the FTL feature on the ship they’d been trying to stop.
“I’ll talk to the Captain, figure all this out.”
“That was not part of our deal.” Ezra growled.
Zey took the clipboard from Dr Feng and examined it quietly as Mallory said his piece. As a captain, she had trained for moments like these. But the prospect that she could have to do it over and over again until there was no one left made her feel sick. She grabbed a stylus, and angling the clipboard so it was hard for anyone else to see, wrote in small script at the bottom:
“ZK - conserve supplies.”
Zey waited until Mallory finished.
“Thank you, Mallory. I hope that is clear to everyone.”
She handed the pad back to Duncan. “And thank you, doctor. We’ll make sure you get blood. Please, go back to your patients now. That goes for the rest of you too, I’ll update you once we know more. Dismissed.”
It became clear beyond any doubt the next morning that they were on a different planet, with a different sun. They’d skipped straight out of the Solar System and ended up somewhere new in just an instant. The command crew couldn’t find a single point of reference with which they could reorient.
At dawn, the fires had died down enough for the survey team to venture forth. With morning sunrays peeking over the horizon, Zey stood by the pilot’s chair on the Bridge and gazed out of the scratched wraparound window.
The Jotunheim had rolled sideways up a rocky hill range, so the right side of the window afforded her a glimpse of the scorched earth and the massive divot the Jo had made before rolling back down and coming to rest on a craggy outcropping. Burning alien trees stood all around, sending up a plume of black smoke into the air. She could hear faint bangs and the whoosh of fire suppressants outside.
If Zey craned her neck looking out of the left hand window, she could still see the trail of destruction the Jotunheim had left in its wake. Upturned earth, jagged bits of metal and pools of flaming fuel meandered down the hill.
Beyond this devastation was a stunning vista out across a wide marshy plain. Strange rock formations and alien vegetation surrounded mossy ponds far into the distance. Stuck between the land and the sky along the horizon was the large body of water Zey they’d passed on their chaotic descent. She could just about make out a river that fed into or out of it.
“What can you see?” She asked the survey team over radio.
Turns out pretty much the entire sensory array had indeed been taken clean off or damaged in the crash. The team deployed a portable sensor bank outside, then got to work releasing Wodan’s repair droids from their nests around the hull. Some had taken a beating, but others were operational and immediately got to work spreading their eyes around the outside of the ship.
This short-range package of sensors picked up that the oxygen content was even higher than originally thought, at 29.1%. On Earth it was 21%.
Zey gave this news to everyone together in the mess room at lunch together. All the signs suggested they had accidentally jumped to some unknown planet. With FTL travel still a new technology, rescue could be some time. The crew had prepared for this eventuality; the civilians hadn’t. There was acrimony, accusations, threats. Zey understood how they felt, and did her best to calm them.
The next couple of days were a controlled process of taking stock of their resources, prioritising and planning a repair schedule that accounted for decreased headcount, and figuring out who they could spare to keep watch on the perimeter.
Zey needed all her crew and most of her robots doing their actual jobs - they were no good to her standing around in the cold. She considered creating a rota for the civilians, but discarded that notion as well. None of them had real combat experience - if something showed up, they’d be next to useless.
In the end, Zey was forced to ask Ezra to take watch, along with Wodan’s two androids. She didn’t trust the mercenary, but figured he was the only professional soldier onboard - that made him more valuable out there than handing engineers their tools. Her one condition was that he had to wear a Tamerlane patch.
It was just before dawn on the third day that Zey knew she’d made the right call. The whole command crew was woken by a loud notification from Ezra, who was hidden near the crest of the hill, that…something had flown overhead. Zey had been awake anyway, but resting her eyes. She opened them and stared out of the thick viewing port above her bed. Wisps of smoke and flame, left over from their crash, were rising up into the night in long tendrils.
“What the fuck…” Zey murmured, hauling herself out of bed.
“I can see something in the air. I have a shot.” Ezra followed up to her over comms.
“Don’t engage. Observe and feedback!” Zey hissed. She then pinged her whole staff.
“Everybody up and to the armoury! There’s something outside.”
The med bay was overrun, so he was sitting on a couch in the corridor outside the mess hall. Ezra sat next to him, applying finishing touches to the stitched up cut on his arm. The mercenary had taken his helmet off and put it on the floor between his feet; this guy had greying black hair, dark searching eyes and moisturised, slightly paunchy skin. Paler and a bit older than Darnell had expected, but still undeniably fit and dangerous.
“We should go up there, straighten some things out.” Darnell said, dabbing the ice pack down his neck.
“You have a concussion, makes you not think straight.”
“If only they’d listened to me, we could’ve defended that hangar until Tamerlane sent troops.”
“You may be right.”
“Of course i’m fucking right, just look at you mate.”
Ezra chuckled - the first time Darnell had heard him do that. It sounded like sand dunes shifting in the wind, a dry crackling.
“Now we’re God knows where, probably some other solar system based on these masks they gave out.” Tyreese added.
“I thought that just equipment failure. We somewhere remote, not dangerous. Scotland maybe?”
Darnell paused, realising he may have not mentioned the FTL feature on the ship they’d been trying to stop.
“I’ll talk to the Captain, figure all this out.”
“That was not part of our deal.” Ezra growled.
Zey took the clipboard from Dr Feng and examined it quietly as Mallory said his piece. As a captain, she had trained for moments like these. But the prospect that she could have to do it over and over again until there was no one left made her feel sick. She grabbed a stylus, and angling the clipboard so it was hard for anyone else to see, wrote in small script at the bottom:
“ZK - conserve supplies.”
Zey waited until Mallory finished.
“Thank you, Mallory. I hope that is clear to everyone.”
She handed the pad back to Duncan. “And thank you, doctor. We’ll make sure you get blood. Please, go back to your patients now. That goes for the rest of you too, I’ll update you once we know more. Dismissed.”
It became clear beyond any doubt the next morning that they were on a different planet, with a different sun. They’d skipped straight out of the Solar System and ended up somewhere new in just an instant. The command crew couldn’t find a single point of reference with which they could reorient.
At dawn, the fires had died down enough for the survey team to venture forth. With morning sunrays peeking over the horizon, Zey stood by the pilot’s chair on the Bridge and gazed out of the scratched wraparound window.
The Jotunheim had rolled sideways up a rocky hill range, so the right side of the window afforded her a glimpse of the scorched earth and the massive divot the Jo had made before rolling back down and coming to rest on a craggy outcropping. Burning alien trees stood all around, sending up a plume of black smoke into the air. She could hear faint bangs and the whoosh of fire suppressants outside.
If Zey craned her neck looking out of the left hand window, she could still see the trail of destruction the Jotunheim had left in its wake. Upturned earth, jagged bits of metal and pools of flaming fuel meandered down the hill.
Beyond this devastation was a stunning vista out across a wide marshy plain. Strange rock formations and alien vegetation surrounded mossy ponds far into the distance. Stuck between the land and the sky along the horizon was the large body of water Zey they’d passed on their chaotic descent. She could just about make out a river that fed into or out of it.
“What can you see?” She asked the survey team over radio.
Turns out pretty much the entire sensory array had indeed been taken clean off or damaged in the crash. The team deployed a portable sensor bank outside, then got to work releasing Wodan’s repair droids from their nests around the hull. Some had taken a beating, but others were operational and immediately got to work spreading their eyes around the outside of the ship.
This short-range package of sensors picked up that the oxygen content was even higher than originally thought, at 29.1%. On Earth it was 21%.
Zey gave this news to everyone together in the mess room at lunch together. All the signs suggested they had accidentally jumped to some unknown planet. With FTL travel still a new technology, rescue could be some time. The crew had prepared for this eventuality; the civilians hadn’t. There was acrimony, accusations, threats. Zey understood how they felt, and did her best to calm them.
The next couple of days were a controlled process of taking stock of their resources, prioritising and planning a repair schedule that accounted for decreased headcount, and figuring out who they could spare to keep watch on the perimeter.
Zey needed all her crew and most of her robots doing their actual jobs - they were no good to her standing around in the cold. She considered creating a rota for the civilians, but discarded that notion as well. None of them had real combat experience - if something showed up, they’d be next to useless.
In the end, Zey was forced to ask Ezra to take watch, along with Wodan’s two androids. She didn’t trust the mercenary, but figured he was the only professional soldier onboard - that made him more valuable out there than handing engineers their tools. Her one condition was that he had to wear a Tamerlane patch.
It was just before dawn on the third day that Zey knew she’d made the right call. The whole command crew was woken by a loud notification from Ezra, who was hidden near the crest of the hill, that…something had flown overhead. Zey had been awake anyway, but resting her eyes. She opened them and stared out of the thick viewing port above her bed. Wisps of smoke and flame, left over from their crash, were rising up into the night in long tendrils.
“What the fuck…” Zey murmured, hauling herself out of bed.
“I can see something in the air. I have a shot.” Ezra followed up to her over comms.
“Don’t engage. Observe and feedback!” Zey hissed. She then pinged her whole staff.
“Everybody up and to the armoury! There’s something outside.”
