It was only after responding to Luthar's request as per protocol that Logan realised it may have been a thinly veiled question that actually contained the sub-text What can I do to help?

The wiry man stood from the console, agitated. It was rare to encounter such catastrophic, systemic failure aboard a starship - and it really started to bother the usually cool-headed Astra.

He stomped over to where Donell had injected himself into the under-floor conduits to search for signs of sabotage. Logan hoped the clunking of his feet would draw his reporting officer's attention.

"Sir! This is hopeless! We can't get anything sorted with the SAN down! I'm going to take An'bhaird with me to engineering to get repairs started." The frustration of the situation driving him to be blunt to his senior officer. For a moment he waited.
"Sir!? Donell!? Reson found an unauthorised device soldered into his science console circuitry and you should probably come see if you can't j-j-just help him fig-ig-ig..." Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Help him figg-ure out how to remove it without causin' more damage."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:09, Wed 13 Feb 2013.

[Private to Aloysius Logan: That's a reasonable assumption. You begin a wide scan. Without the ship's central core to process the information a full sweep will take close to half an hour.

There are no transmissions detected. The installation on the surface has gone silent and is moving out of line of effect as you follow the orbital path. Internally, the ship is utterly without transmission except for failed attempts from the Shuttle to contact the ship's wireless network. Completely normal.]

Justor, you conclude that unless you want to test it in this environment, you can safely remove it and experiment it in your small lab-space.

A clanging noise comes from the deck plates near where Logan had walked to, followed by "Cack! Stars and seas below!" Astra Prime Donell comes up from under the floor with a nasty looking burn on his hand and cut on his forehead.

"Hel take you, boy! Look what you've done! Git!" He gestures his good hand at you, dismissing you from the bridge with fire in his eyes.

Luthar nodded to Logan and added, "Navigation appears to be down, so I can't see anything out there.  Long range sensors are up and running but can't exactly fly like that. Altitude thrusters are functional, but main engines are down...so in short? We are sitting ducks."  He didn't like sitting here without engines or anything to allow them an escape.  He unbuckled himself from the harness, and started to walk towards Logan as he mentioned moving to Engineering for repairs.

The baby-faced man's cheeks were ablush as he was reprimanded by Donell. Logan's mouth moved, but very little came out. "Uh...I...I-uh..."

Ashamed that his frustration-infused heavy foot-fall had caused pain and suffering to his senior officer, Logan quickly nodded at Donell's gesture before scuttling to his station - as Luthar approached.

"An'bhaird, let us head to engineering. I neeed to get the datacore back online. I could use your help... Heck, Grey may even need your help too. She'll need as many hands with know-how as we can get, I'd wager." he said somewhat vacantly as if his mind was over encumbered by some heavy thoughts.

Logan lowered his gaze to the display to check the status of the long range sensor sweep he'd fired up a minute ago. "Half an hour..." he muttered, took a deep breath then set a countdown timer[Private to GM: for 25 minutes] on his metatool, and collected his Postech Toolkit from beside his console.

"Have you a toolkit? or... experience with repairs?" he asked his comrade with a smile... or was it a grimace?
This message was last edited by the player at 00:10, Thu 14 Feb 2013.

Luthar chuckled.  "Experience with repairs? No..not really.  I'm a fast learner though, and good at following directions." That was the gods honest truth too.  He knew zip about repairing anything really, except for smaller ships.  "Lead the way, and I'll see what I can do.  And no, I don't have a toolkit."

So unprepared for this type of situation I am. He mused to himself as he followed Logan.

Logan blinked rapidly, processing Luthar's nervous laugh and comment. The slight smile which held an awkward tone at it's edges remained on Logan's face.

"This way then, An'bhaird." he said, leading them to the lift.

They waited for the lift to take them to the engineering deck.

Logan coughed nervously. Closed his eyes and mouthed a few words silently.

"LUDO- " he abruptly blurted. "Uh, Ludo. Y- you can call me."

Ludo smiled at the pilot, coughed again and asked rather quickly, "So what's it like? Up there, flying her?"

"If it's Ludo, then you can call me Luth, or Luthar.  An'bhaird sounds so formal." Luthar grinned as they waited for the lift.

"Flying up there?

Mujūryoku, tan'ni subarashī, subarashī."  He shook his head realizing he had reverted to speaking in his native tongue and smiled.

"Sorry about that...habit.  It's amazing.  There is nothing like the rush from lift off, or the feel of the engine responding to your touch.  And being able to control something this...large" He waved his hands about him, "It's awesome.


You ever had a chance to go out in a smaller shuttle for fun?"

With repairs going so slowly, both on the bridge and in Engineering, Justor saw no reason to leave the bug hooked up to the consoles.  If need be, he could just reinsert it into a dummy console in the labs, and then use that to trace any signals it received.  If it was even possible.

Leaving Luthar and Aloysius to keep each other company, Justor went straight to work on the bug.  He retrieved a soldering tool and a pair of manual forceps and went to work carefully removing the offending device.


OOC
I'm assuming that since the device isn't dangerous and we're not under any pressure or time constraint that I don't need to roll?  Soldering electronics seems like kind of a basic task for a Science Officer.  :P
This message was last edited by the player at 05:01, Thu 14 Feb 2013.

Long, thin fingers deftly tinkered with the config of the wristborne metatool as Logan listened to the pilot. Pre-drill the crew had very little, if any, opportunity of socialising, and despite his stutter and social awkwardness the pale-skinned comms scientist had taken this opportunity to forge a friendship. Under normal circumstances it was difficult for him. He expected it to be even more difficult considering their ship was very recently rendered useless by a saboteur and some of their crewmates had been injured or permanently incapacitated - however to his surprise he found it was actually a welcome distraction from the sheer gravity of the impact of recent events: they were floating in unknown void, utterly helpless, until repairs were complete.

Laughing awkwardly, as if trying to imitate numerous styles of laughter in one short burst, Ludo cautiously exited the lift having arrived at engineering. His laughter was ill-timed and seemed out of place where they found themselves: the corridor was illuminated by emergency power and was ghostly quiet, and through the air permeated underlying tension and danger.

"For f-fun?!" squeaked a smiling Ludo, scratching the back of his neck with a gangly arm. "I-I-, uh, no. Hm! No, no, no." He shook his head dismissively. "I prefer the wonderment of studying pretech to that of extreme G's pushing my body through the back of my chair. Hm."

He blinked heavily and swallowed thickly as they approached the central area of engineering.

>> To Engineering >>

Luthar chuckled, watching Logan's reactions and followed him passed the lift.

-To Engineering-

"Prepare the jump drive. Start the clock. I want to be spun up and ready to drill in less than an hour."

Farhenra did not occupy the command chair where Valna would have sat had she been awake, but instead he paced about fore and aft just as he was accustomed to as the stern XO of the ship.

OOC: Perception/Wisdom checks by everyone on the bridge paying attention to Farhenra.

The pilot and navcomm crew are busy making checks and studying charts. Various lights flicker and the ship continues it's ever-present background rumbling, perhaps a little rougher than before, though maybe that's all in the imagination.

Dizzy stood on the bridge, providing a stark counterpoint to Farhenra's pacing.  She stood at one of the observation posts, her feet planted firmly shoulder width apart, her thick arms crossed over her broad chest.  The ceremonial skull helm was clipped to her hip, but Proven Hargrieve had insisted on wearing her matte black body armor to the bridge.  Over one shoulder, she wore Meyrink's strangely light shivari monokatana in it's elegantly stained red sandalwood sheathe, entrusted to her by the Acting Captain.  At her hip she wore the more familiar 9.5" monoblade, the leather sheath stamped with obscure badges of faith.

"Hargrieve to all security points, check in." she said steadily into an earpiece as the Acting Captain ordered the team to spool up the Spike Drive.  After weeks of effort, they'd managed to put the ship back together with ducttape and bubblegum, and after what had happened Dizzy was keeping a much tighter watch.  Any further sabotage would doom the lot of them.

As she listened to the coded responses filtering through, but her eyes watched Farhenra.  The Acting Captain was under a lot of pressure ... and Dizzy was leery of whatever unspoken connection there was between her superior officer and the Captain.  She was loyal, but the crew would receive any more surprises rather poorly.  Food was getting tight, shifts were running long, and no one had had proper time to mourn the dead ... morale was looking rather ragged.  She'd patched it as best she could, small private ceremonies, counseling with the less religious.  With her representing the security department at the officer's meetings, however, it wasn't always easy to get people to open up.

---

_{02:42, Today: Dizzy Hargrieve rolled 10 using 2d6. Perception Check.}

Arik Aesgar checks in first. He's supposed to be the captain's quarter recovering, but he's reporting from one of the aft airlocks. Holocomms show his haggard face, blanch skin and untrimmed hair even through the lower quality.

He's supposed to be resting, but he's fourth in the line of succession. No one outside house Aesgar or or the Royal family can really tell him to do anything he doesn't want to in practice. You've seen it before, he's trying harder than ever to prove himself. Patrolling the ship, checking for anything out of place. Given that he has Pretech legs now, that's not necessarily difficult, but there is long term recovery to consider.

"-to report at airlock B-2. Moving aft."

Comms have been spotty since the incident. They aren't picking up the first few syllables half the time.
This message was last updated by the player at 11:54, Sat 28 Dec 2013.

Dizzy grimaced slightly and pressed a thumb to her temple when she heard Arik's voice on the comms.  Given her background, she was hardly surprised.  Young warriors were ever in a rush to prove themselves, and with his wounds Arik had more incentive than most to prove that he was fit and ready for combat.  It was admirable, in a way, certainly better than laying about in his bunk and mewling over his injuries.  The Gorumskagat, however, taught that a warriors body was as much a tool of warfare as his arms and armor, and that it should be maintained with the same patience and reverence.  If he didn't take the time to heal, he might not survive long enough to become an old warrior.

"Warrior Aesgar, I see you're up and about." she responded, "I want you to link up with another security element, travel in pairs.  You're on light duty until the doctor clears you, understood?" she said, trying to strike a balance.  It still felt strange to be giving orders to an Aesgar, her world had sworn fealty to the Indari through that house.  When she'd gone offworld, Dizzy had sworn personal oaths to reinforce that fealty, the house's interests coming second only to her God's.  That said, there was a line between being sworn to serve and allowing family members to run roughshod over her.  She'd find him his glory, she'd see him home alive, but he'd respect her authority in the field or she'd correct him the same as any other uppity stripling.

Sighing softly, she watched the way Farhenra pace the decks.  They were all on edge, far from home, low on supplies, having weathered hostile forces planetside and amongst their own.  A bead of sweat on the brow though, a slight, visible tremor in his hand as he lifted it from the comms console.  It looked like the stress of his assumed responsibilities were getting to their Acting Captain worse than he'd like to admit.  The last time she'd ignored a Captain's anxiety, they'd been mortally wounded and revealed as a conspirator undermining their supposedly peaceful mission of exploration.  Unfolding her arms, she took the steps down from the observation post, shadowing Fahrenra's pacing steps until he turned around.  She stood solidly in his path at that point.

"Captain, might I have a word in private?" she asked, nodding her head towards one of the doors leading away from the bridge.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Fri 03 Jan 2014.

The executive officer gave you a moments glance, as if trying to read your intentions and then nodded towards the hatch behind the command chair that opened into the spinal passageway on the small vessel.

"Officer Donell has the con."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Fri 03 Jan 2014.

Dizzy kept her face impassive for the moment, her mis-matched eyes meeting his evenly as he searched her face for some hint of what she wanted.  Dizzy wasn't much of a liar, but she could do a blank stare with the best of them, having learned the knack in the crucible of her youth when her instructors would dress her down for her shortcommings.  When he finally agreed, she nodded tersely.

"Thank you, sir." she said easily, leading the way back towards the short corridor.  Once she was through, she took a quick glance to make sure that the corridor was clear and looked back as the XO ducked through the narrow entry to follow her.  Once the door had closed behind him, she relaxed slightly.

"With respect, Sir, you seem tense." she probed gently, "Voidmistress Grey gave her approval for this Spike, and she's more than competent.  She wouldn't risk the crew unless she was certain, Sir." she said, tilting her head to the side as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"If I may, Sir, what is it that preoccupies you?" she smirked a bit, the expression tugging at the scar that ran alongside her gray eye, "It is, after all, my job to set your mind at ease."

"Chaplain Hargrieve..." He seemed about ready to reprimand you, but perhaps something in your tone got through to him and his stone facade cracked for a moment, revealing tired eyes and the signs of sleepless nights.

"You are right to be concerned." He composes himself with a deep sigh. "I believe I can trust you. Am I correct in this?"

He waits for your response, eyeing you carefully.

There was a brief moment, when the Acting Captain had seemed about to reprimand her for drawing him away from the bridge for such a frivolous reason, that she had squared her shoulders.  It wouldn't be the first time a warrior had tried to push her away with bluster or authority, and while she couldn't force him to open up, it was important for him to know she was looking out for him.  It would pave the way for him to find his way to her, should he change his mind later.  Fortunately, it didn't seem necessary.

"You are, Sir.  I would like to think that both my loyalty and discretion are beyond reproach." she answered directly.  Of course, it wasn't comforting that he'd asked at all.  It struck her as a probing question, the sort for which there was no correct answer, but for which the asker would examine one's words for what they were truly seeking.  Which was why she'd mentioned discretion.  If something was troubling him, and he was keeping it to himself, suggesting that it wouldn't go beyond her would only help things along.

The acting Captain's blue cybernetic eye was locked directly onto you, electronic gaze boring into your soul.

"My concern is the political reasons behind this mission. We've been sabotaged twice, attacked from the inside by a sleeper agent. The gods have cursed our voyage since we left port."

He grimaces and continues speaking softly

"You all saw the sealed objective the Star Commander was given. For some reason she was acting under orders to start a war with the Hegemony and a foreign power. If the Shivari agent was here to prevent that from happening, then might there not be another agent waiting to insure it's success? I'm not sure we can trust anyone on this ship."

"Donell here. All sensors reporting within acceptable parameters. A miracle, really."

Officer Donell punches some commands into his nav console.

"Gravimetrics are... gravimetrics are good."

"Pilot, lock final calculations in. Confirm vector."

"Engineering, release safeties and increase arr-pee-em to nine-hundred kay. Confirm final output within tolerance."

He syncs up with the computer and counts down in time with it.
"All hands, prepare for Spike Drill. Drill commencing in five... four... three... two... one... SPIKE!"

The whole world jolts for you and your stomach falls into your boots as your vision swims. You've all been on spike drills before, in metaspace, but you never get used to it. OOC: make a physical save not to be sickened

Dizzy crossed her arms and knitted her brow in thought as she considered the Farhenra's concerns.  She'd be lying if she claimed that the possibility had never occurred to her ... but then, she was tightly involved with the ship's security.  She'd have been remiss in not considering the possibility.

"The gods do not curse so lightly, Sir.  They test our worth.  Clearly they thought the vastness of space alone not a challenge worthy of us." she smirked a bit, "There is, of course, that outside chance.  It's why I wanted permission to investigate the Captain, to check for collaboration, whether it be with an unwitting member of the crew or someone assigned to the ship."

"If such an agent were aboard, however, I can only think that they'd have made an effort to destroy the file containing the Shackleton's sealed orders.  Knowledge of that goal would only make us more alert and further complicate their mission." she glanced aside.

"There's the possibility that they were dispatched to the Away Team when everything happened.  Perhaps An'bhaird's misinterpretation of orders was not quite as accidental as he claimed.  Perhaps they had no choice but to try and block the vote to unseal the orders.  I would have the requisite training, and have expressed sympathy towards the goal.  Or, perhaps, the agent was not aware of the specifics of his task, only having been activated after assuming control of the mission and unwittingly showing his hand to the senior staff." she raised an eyebrow at him, her gray eye looking back into his cybernetic one for a long moment.  Finally, she smiled broadly and spread her arms out to the side.

"It's easy to suspect others, yes?  Especially when our faith has been tested so." she said, shrugging, "Tensions are high, and everyone is eyeing their comrades a bit more closely.  It's during times like this when it is most important that we draw together." she winked a bit, "Coincidentally, establishing alibis and ensuring that no one is ever alone to act unopposed, yes?"

"Which reminds me, Warrior Aesgar is up and wandering the decks.  I told him to link up with another security element, but I should really check and see that he's done so." she glanced back towards the bridge, "If you want, Sir, I'll be happy to dedicate some time to looking through the crew's personnel files and trying to ferret out any indiscrepancies.  For the moment, however, my advice is to remember that if they want us to succeed, they want us to live.  We've nothing to worry about until we find another civilization for them to sabotage relations with."

---

13:38, Today: Dizzy Hargrieve rolled 16 using 1d20. Physical Save. (Passed)

The spike drill is almost instantaneous and once returned to real-space the sensors begin to pick something up. There's a trinary star system on screen, two large red stars slowly swallowing a third blue one.


Star Type

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Radius

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mass

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Temperature

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Luminosity

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam calls out across the bridge: "What by Hel.... something is jamming us!"

He quickly opens a channel to Farhenra: "Master Farhenra! Something is jamming our scans, range between 300 and 500k! We need you on the bridge!"

Farhenra listens to Hargrieves views and analysis with quiet contemplation and seems about to answer when the call comes through from the bridge. His eye widens and he quickly begins to bark orders as he storms back to the con. "Battle-stations, set condition red."

FWEEE

FWEEE

Crimson lights begin to flash throughout the ship and an alarm sounds repeatedly, alerting the crew to battle stations.

The Ship's Master storms onto the bridge, clipping his shoulder against the bulkhead in haste. He quickly punches in a query to the command/control unit and all the screens go dark before being replaced by a starfield.

FWEEE

Another query and the star field is replaced by a thermal render of the same area of space. A large glowing white blob stands out in a cool blue field punctuated with small white star heat signatures.

FWEEE

Furiously he issues another request to the computer and the image is replaced with what could only be a star ship.



SHIP CLASS: UNKNOWN
CONFIGURATION: UNKNOWN
ALLEGIANCE: UNKNOWN
ARMAMENT: UNKNOWN
SPIKE RATING: UNKNOWN
DESIGNATION: MONGOOSE-1

His face is grim in the emergency lighting and his bionic eye seems to flicker with aggression.


"Single hostile ship, designation Mongoose-1, jamming our navigation and comms. Helm, prepare to attack. Weapons online, lock target, set ECM to Status Four, begin phase-variance."

Nuna was shocked by the acting Captains orders. Attacking a new ship with the casualties they'd run up was not a task meant to be taken lightly. If only she had any kind of authority to request he take a more defensive posture.

Down in Engineering, Annabel's hands flew across her console, bringing the Spike drive back to readiness in case of emergencies, flaring the sublight engines to ensure that they were capable of reaching full thrust and diverting power to the capacitors for the main laser battery.

"Engines ready. Main battery charging at thirty percent..." She informed the bridge. "Fifty percent borderline and charging. Main battery available to fire at your command. Ten seconds to full power. Spike Drive at twenty percent. Five minutes until jump readiness." She reported.