Profit Margin falls through Jump Space towards her destination.  Sensors detect mass shadows around her, and constantly compare their positions to information contained in the navigational database.  When they match, within a carefully defined margin of error, an alarm chirps on the Bridge, echoed in Jago's quarters, and in Engineering.

A notification displays on screens in all three locations: JUMP EMERGENCE: 180 SECONDS.  The digits start to count down immediately.  At sixty seconds they turn red, and a warning tone sounds.

Another tone sounds at the thirty second mark.  And again at ten, and five seconds...

... 004
003
002
001
000

And Profit Margin drops back into N Space.  Several alarms sound on the Bridge, none of which are part of the usual Jump exit procedure.

A new message flashes on every screen in the crew section, also not standard procedure.

WARNING: PROXIMITY ALERT.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:39, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

At the three minute warning Tylen straps himself into his seat properly and turns to face the screens and controls that operate his turret, although he leaves the door to the bridge open so that he can hear the general conversation.

As soon as the first alarm sounds, Tylen's eyes widen and he slaps the 'close' control on the console in front of him.  As the door to the outer area closes he settles back into his seat and starts scanning for for irregularities.

"Shyte. he speaks softly as soon as the proximity warning appears, and he swings his viewpoint around in a complete circle as he searches for the source of the alarm.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

Slaved to the emergency system while she is aboard, Shui's glove lights up.  Instantly, she triggers the holocontrol for the stateroom intercoms.  + All passengers - we are about to begin high-acceleration manuevers.  Please strap yourselves down. +  The dirty dishes from the crew's lunch go into the sink and she clamps down the sink cover, for anything could become a lethal missile if things get hairy.  Dropping into a chair, the Steward scans the lounge for any further large or pointy objects, and begins flicking into the private intercom systems of each stateroom in order.

+ Ms. Taylor - are you secured?...Mr. DeSeant - are you... +
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

Ash sits on the bridge, idly biding his time with the latest copy of Astrogation Today.  He had always been particularly interested in the Penrose-Gyutami variation of the Gorstan topological transformations used most basic jump and astrogation calculations, but the new three-fold symmetrical perturbation corollary for stability and route re-optimization studies introduced by Gzarrourg and Garzuno made it particularly interesting for him.  Ash has been busily testing and retesting calculation using the various algorithms.  He only regrets that he is unable to read the original article in Gvegh - he knows a smattering of that Vargr dialect, but really, the technical terminology would have been beyond him.

As the jump transition timer counts down, Ash seems relatively unconcerned.  But he does look up at the moment of transition and when the uncharacteristic alarms sound he immediately tosses the periodical to the side, as well as pushing his scratch calculations to the deep background.  Ash busies himself with pulling up external sensor data and starts to reconcile the data that appears to have triggered the alarms.  His fingers tap out a quick staccato rhythm as he tries to peruse reams of data at a glance, having previously configured his dynamic displays for color coding of just such anomalous information.

He glances at Jago, as he gives status report, "Captain, I'm tapping the external sensor feeds and pushing to the tactical displays.  I'm still analyzing the data, but I don't recall any asteroid warnings for System 728-907, previously..."  Ash hopes it is something 'innocent' like a stray meteorite, but prepares himself mentally for much worst.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:41, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

"I hope it's a new McBurger joint, I've been itching to blow one of those up since their last commercial," Yas mutters to herself as she waits for the readouts to tell her where and what the offending proximity is.  It could be anything from some useless space rock to a drifting ship or a more alive and hostile variant of the latter.  For the sake of one passenger in particular she hopes that is proves to be something utterly void of life.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:41, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

Jago swears under his breath and alternates his attention between the the viewports and the sensor displays that Ash is sliding across to his panel.  Yas and Tylen, meanwhile, are using their own dedicated systems to search surrounding space for the offending object or objects...

One by one the answers come in to Shui's urgent calls - the passengers have responded to her initial warning by making for their nearest seat with any sort of restraints, and all are currently safely strapped in.

The various sensors begin to build up a picture of the volume of space around Profit Margin - the ship is surrounded.

It appears that they have emerged from Jump near one edge of a cluster of objects, ranging in size from a few centimetres long to several metres.  The objects are widely scattered, the closest of them being around five kilometres away.  The ones closest to Profit Margin all seem to be moving in the same general direction and at approximately the same speed, somewhere around 120 metres per second relative to the ship, though a few are moving much faster.  Most of them seem to be emitting EM radiation at levels which are significantly above the normal cosmic background radiation, mostly in the infra-red bands.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:41, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

Tylen’s eyes flick across his boards as the analysis of vectors and velocities flicks across his screen.  His eyes widen slightly at the number of objects that are reported, and the information about radiation levels is pushed towards the back of his mind, as he allows the computer to select the object that is the most danger to them.

Instinct kicks in as a target is selected, and he automatically chooses the laser as his weapon of choice.  For years in the scouts he had it drummed into him that lasers are easier, and cheaper, to reload than anything that needs physical ammunition.  His fingers flip across the controls and a beam licks out towards the intrusive object.

Somewhere in the back of his brain, his thought processes tick over as he watches for the results of the shot.  His fingers poised to select another target the moment success is confirmed, his mind thinks  Hot.  What could have made them hot? as the information about infra red radiation sinks in.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:42, Fri 25 Feb 2011.

Ash instinctively starts to calculate vectors and speeds.  His extensive experience as a navigator kicking in and taking over; he watches the displays and lets his mind work the numbers quickly and efficiently.  He barks out a couple of quick numbers to Jago - giving the Captain more than enough information to match the speed and direction of most (but, unfortunately, not all) of the objects around them.  Ash lets his fingers work the displays, as well as the calculator to confirm the mental calculation values he has generated - but he knows they are correct (or, at least, correct enough) to over seven significant figures.

Ash also knows that seconds count here; but he also trusts that the Profit Margin should be able to match common speed of the objects within a few seconds - five of six seconds tops.  And once vectors are matched, that should significantly mitigate the risks from a majority of the debris.  "Captain, we should try to steer clear of the debris field." he notes dutifully, even if he is merely stating the obvious.  But, as navigator, it is up to Ash to propose a route, and he does so.  One that moves with the bulk of the objects, but breaks off gradually.

Of course, matching vectors doesn't yield additional information about what the debris is.  Unfortunately, the fact that some of the debris is still hot narrows down the likely possibilities.  Ash purses his lips, "Also, Captain, given the thermal profile of the debris.  I am going to have to venture that generating event happened only a short time ago."  He pauses and measures his words, "Given the size distribution and that the preliminary composition data I am seeing - I ... I think that we should be on high alert.  This debris field is likely man made.  We are flying through the remains of the makee - and the maker is probably near by..."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:28, Tue 01 Mar 2011.

"Jago, you've got full power, if you need it." Saskia reports in from her station.

Of course he has full power, there's no reason he wouldn't have it, but at least now he knows.  She shunts the power flow diagnostics over to one side, where they wont distract her, but she can still see them.  A sudden flicker on the power displays is hardly even noticed - upper left corner is weapon systems - laser to be exact.  Tylen must be up to something.

New displays bloom in the centre of her panel, drive system monitors.  She has a feeling that the thrusters are going to be working hard any second now.

Jago starts the ship turning and activates the drives, taking them up to their full thrust as quickly as possible.  He gives Ash a quick nod of acknowledgement as he kills the alarm, then answers Saskia, "Thanks, Saskia."  The ship starts to accelerate at its maximum two gees, and the inertial compensators, tied in to the drive controls, match it easily.

Tylen fires the laser.  The target is small, and at such short range it has a high apparent velocity compared to the ship.  Profit Margin's sudden turn doesn't help.  The beam misses.  Still, with the ship accelerating, the display showing the time remaining until collision is starting to slow its countdown.

Information continues to flow from the sensors to various displays around the ship.  The entire cluster of objects is expanding from a central point in space-time, the computer tracks them back to that point, about 420 kilometres away and 55 minutes ago.

Images start to appear as optical systems focus on some of the larger objects.

Pieces of ship, in bright primary colours, predominantly reds and yellows.  Markings are visible on some parts, not Anglic, so not an Imperial vessel.

Secured in her seat - there's no point in her hurrying to the Bridge and disturbing all and sundry with pointless questions, Shui again keys her dataglove, this time sending the message out as a low priority, for any with the time to respond.

+ All passengers are safe and belted in.  Please advise if I need to proceed with any tasks. +

She doesn't know what help she would be, but...

The thrusters flare, full-bore.  She can't feel much of a change due to the compensators, but the thrum through the hull is unmistakable.  Mouth dry, Shui unstraps her belt.  Pushing herself up, she begins a full-out sprint down the passegeway toward her quarters - 'medical bay'.

If something goes wrong, if someone is injured, seconds might count.  It's worth the risk of sudden inertial failure.

"Frak it." Tylen grunts as he swings the laser back on  to target, focus his fire on that one item of debris most at risk of striking the ship.

Everything else seems to fade into the background as that one single target seems top expand to fill his senses.  For the moment, nothing will burst his small almost meditative bubble of concentration.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:26, Sat 26 Feb 2011.