This is the bridge of the IHS-Shackleton. The commander's chair sits in the center of the room overlooking the entire control deck. The pilot sits at the very fore-front of the ship in a G-cushioned couch with a neuro-helmet that covers his head entirely. His hands are covered by bulky helm-gauntlets which are connected to a nav-computer by a bundle of thick cables and wires.

There are no portholes or windows to look from but a series of large screens positioned around the chamber display various views fed by external cameras.

Star Commander Valna sits proudly behind her command console, leaning back in her chair. She wears the red-and-black of the Indari Astral Forces, still wearing her dress uniform from earlier in the day. She gives commands to those on the bridge sharply, expecting immediate obedience and setting expectations for her new crew.

To her left sits Communications Officer Donell at the Comm station with the junior comms officer both of them working to manage the In-System tightband and broadcast transmissions. Tinny voices echo in chorus throughout the room as fleet bulletins and navigation positions are being recieved and piped over the speakers.

To the right of the commander is the sensors station where the Science Officer is handling the influx of elecromagnetic spectrum data.

Executive Officer Farhenra stalks around the cramped deck, barking at junior officers and command crew, his glowing blue cybernetic eye tracking independently at uncanny speed.

There are several consoles left empty, including dedicated weapons controls which can also be handled by the pilot and the bridge engineering station.

Two smaller chairs flank Valna, one of them reserved for the executive officer and the other for the special advisor.

Over the entire ship a computerized voice reports. "Time until drill, minus five minutes."

OOC: Anyone who wants to be on the bridge right now, can be. Generally you should be performing your duties but there isn't a lot of extra room on the bridge and currently both crew shifts are on duty.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:03, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

Standing on the bridge, mostly out of the way for the time being, Luth is admiring the bridge.  So much more tech than that simple shuttle I was flying back home he thinks to himself.

He's an average looking man, standing at five feet, seven inches.  Dark brown hair falls to his shoulders, pulled back behind his ears to keep it off his face.  His green eyes scanning the crew moving about on the bridge.

One of the crew bump into him and it brings his attention back to his duties.  He looks towards the front and sees the pilot in place, nods to himself and quickly scans for the weapon controls.  As he walks towards the weapon controls system, he limps slightly on his right side.  He's not the fastest walker, but he manages to get around without to much of a hassle. He takes his place at the weapons control, looks over the console in front of him, and goes over in his mind his weapons training to familiarize himself with these controls. He looks over the status of the weapons, ensuring everything is online and fully operational.

Maire sat in her chair silently, reading a small book on some unknown subject. Her hair was tied back this morning, and glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, giving her a much more intelligent look than she normally had. As the warning for the drill went off, she sat back and closed her book, slipping it into a pocket. She began looking around the Bridge, examining everyone on it with a calculating gaze. "What excersize are we doing again, Commander Valna? It seems to have slipped my mind." She asked the commander sitting next to her, being sure to wait until she was not ordering someone around.

"The ship is about to drill through metaspace with our Spike drive. We're jumping out farther than anyone has ever been past the Dead Zone. That's why everyone looks so nervous." She allows a polite smile to play across her lips, humoring her new Special Advisor.

The Star Commander pushes at several runes floating in the holodisplay by her left hand and then gestures subtly towards the XO of the ship who quickly redirects his wrath to a different part of the bridge.

A window opened to the captain's right, bearing the image of the junior engineer, Voidmaster Grey. She pushed her green-lensed interface goggles back onto her forehead to reveal her blue eyes, sparkling as they were with humour and wonderment.

"Engineering here. Spike drive's at full capacity, everything's set for the drill. Chief's just waiting on your mark, Captain." She paused, wincing slightly at a crash from behind her as a brown-and-grey tabby Ragdoll-Siberian cross knocked over a trolley full of tools. "An Jonesy is reporting for duty... I think."

Janus slowly paced about the bridge in formal Indari attire, the crest of his minor house worn proudly on his lapel, glancing over people's shoulders for a few quick moments with little real interest in their duties. He kept his hands politely clasped behind his back so as to avoid interfering. He would occasionally glance at the commander, only to smile and nod at her if she took notice of him.

Commander Valna gives one last look around the bridge and gestures to her executive officer who quickly begins rattling off a series of commands both in person and through his wrist comm. The computer voice in the background calmly states the countdown state at regular intervals.

"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. A deck hand vomits onto the deck plating. OOC: make a physical save to not be sickened

All the broadcasted radio traffic winks out and suddenly space is silent. The external cameras display a bizzare swirl of lights in place of the familiar stars. The XO shuts off the external displays replacing them with a read out of the ship status on all main monitors.

"Drill successful." He sounds relieved. "ETA to Uncharted System 'Signa-21' 48 standard hours."

Maire felt a brief urge to vomit, but she believed she was succesful in burying it. She smiled broadly as the Spike finished. "Never get used to those." She said with humor in her voice.

OCC: 12:35, Today: Maire Doiteain rolled 20 using 1d20. No sick!

Luth took in a deep breath, feeling his stomach turn, and swallowed praying it would be enough to hold it back. "Will that ever get easier?" He said it mostly to himself, not realizing how loud it actually had been.

OOC: 15:41, Today: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 16 using 1d20. Sickness saving throw.

Annabel turned her head to one side and emptied her stomach into a pre-prepared waiting receptacle, before rinsing her mouth out with water. She grimaced at Jonesy, then checked her boards, referencing with the chief engineer.

ooc: failed the save.

Janus took care to note the reactions of the crew as the FTL drives of the ship activated. He himself showed no outward signs of any discomfort in response to the disorienting effect.

OOC: Rolled 12 versus 12.

The commander is a tall woman and slender. Not the ideal proportions for a spacer but the kind of qualities society might find attractive and positive. She stands from her chair and hands the bridge over to Zenner before ducking through the hatchway into the passageways of the ship.

The Shackleton hums with a kind of quiet power as it sails between the stars...

Luth flicks through a few screens on the weapons station, reading over various stats, and turns to the XO. "Commander Farhenra sir, do we have any intel on where exactly we are headed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:02, Thu 13 Dec 2012.

Zenner turned and responded to the junior pilot, his voice still sharp as a knife, though not coated with malice as was often his custom.

"Minimal. There's a 87.8% chance that the trinary star system we're drilling into it was home to a large Federation space port. The astrogators narrowed it down to this sector and determined this system was the most likely match for the old records. They're optimistic we may encounter survivors of the Blood Wars." He licked the pucked scar on his lips and looks towards the hatch leading out of the bridge, as if following the captain's path.

"Off the record, I think we're jumping into a grave yard."

Luth nods, "Understood Sir.  A graveyard wouldn't be so bad, as long as there is something to salvage along the way. Permission to leave the bridge, Sir?"

He was wanting to go and check out the shuttle.  Get a little reminder of home, and a chance to sit in the pilot seat again, even if he wasn't actually flying anything.

"As of right now, we're back to normal shifts. All primary crew remain on station, all secondary crew are now off duty. Dismissed."

He settles down on the command chair and begins sorting through some files on a holo-display.

Luth leaves the bridge following the way the Commander had gone.  Know where was the shuttle at... he thinks to himself as he walks down the passage ways. Not use to being on such a large ship, it would be easy for him to get lost, but he also didn't want to make a fool of himself blindly wandering about.

OOC: To Engineering ---->
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Thu 13 Dec 2012.

Maire, after catching most of the conversation Farhena had had with the Junior officer, figured she might as well go as well. She stood and removed her glasses, tucking them into a pocket before turning to head out.

[To Shackleton: Quarters and Mess]

Janus remained on the bridge, continuing to observe the crew at their posts until things began to take on an obvious pattern. Finally, he left for his quarters to get some work done in private.

Coming out of metaspace into reality is much less painful than the initial jump, it's more akin to a roller coaster coming to a quick stop than being launched into a rock wall.

You emerge at the edge of a large star system. You are greeted by the sight of two stars, relatively close to you as your drive begins to spin down to normal propulsion.

"Very well. We've arrived." You've come to notice the effort the executive officer puts into his accent. It wasn't obvious at first but he makes an effort to appear cultured. "Astra Prime, adjust heading for an orbit around the binary system. Sensors, scan the system. Look for anything of interest, transmissions, starships, inhabited planets. This is why we're here, people."

[Private to Annabel Grey: OOC: make a postech check.]
[Private to Maire Doiteain: OOC: make a cha check.]
[Private to Janus Meyrink: OOC:Let me know if you are taking any secret actions]
[Private to Luthar An'bhaird: OOC: make a piloting check]
[Private to Dizzy Hargrieve: OOC: make a perception test]

Luthar, sitting in the pilot seat, nods at the words of the XO, "Roger Sir! Adjusting heading.." His hands moving along the controls, pretty sure he was hitting what needed to be hit.



[Private to The Void: OOC:You rolled 12 using 2d6+2 ((6,4)).]

Aille sat back in her chair and examined all of the screens she could see.

[Private to GM: 19:58, Today: Maire Doiteain rolled 10 using 1d20+1. Cha roll.]

[Private to Maire Doiteain: You feel something in your mind, like the distant sound of static at the very edge of your consciousness. It is almost certainly telepathy of some kind.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:10, Tue 18 Dec 2012.

Not having a posting in the bridge, Dizzy had made her way up there all the same when the announcement that they were coming out of metaspace came over the intercom.  This, a system that had been in the thick of the Blood Wars, she wanted to be among the first of their empire to lay eyes upon.  Her eyes swept over the screen as the computers crunched distances, planetary orbits, and trajectories along the borders.

" . . . Wasn't this supposed to be a trinary system?" she mused, rubbing her chin.
[Private to GM: 23:08, Today: Dizzy Hargrieve rolled 10 using 2d6. Perception Check. ]

Down in Engineering, Anna worked to stabilise the engines and the ship's fields against the various astral phenomena that could affect them in the local area. Normally, this was easy - just switch to a preset out of the book - but in unknown space she was having to do the calculations manually based on sensor readings.

[private to DM:
11:07, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 9 using 2d6+1. PosTech Knack.
11:07, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 6 using 2d6+1. PosTech. ]

The captain flashes a look at the executive officer who shoots a glance over to the science officer, who furiously seems to be working over the sensors.

A few tense moments go by as Luthar guides the ship into a phased burn sequence, skillfully trimming the course and manuevering past the edge of the system and into the significant gravity well. Even without any knowledge of piloting the vessel you realize that his command of the ships navigation is expert level.

[Private to Luthar An'bhaird: OOC: You gain a bonus on plotting the jump-in system! We have to decide where we're going before we make the jump, but you've put yourself in excellent position to make it.]

[Private to Maire Doiteain: OOC: You might not be able to simply tell the direction of the telepathic signal, but getting closer to the star system seems to strengthen it ever so slightly.]

[Private to Dizzy Hargrieve: OOC: You notice that the captain has looked around the bridge several times since she got here, almost as if she's checking to make sure someone isn't here. Each time she seems relieved.]

[Private to Annabel Grey: OOC: you weren't certain at first, but after running through an engine check, you find it: A non-spec coupling adapter has been fitted to the auxiliary coupling right behind the main coupling on the primary spike sequencer. The power has been routed through the auxiliary coupling and was regulating the power draw from the capacity independently of the main control. In other words, part of the drive that controls the level of phase shift, the 'throttle' was being controlled not by navigation but by a microprocessor embedded in this coupling adapter. Sabotage. It won't be hard to remove it, but it's already done it's work.]

The science officer gives the captain a despairing look and Master Farhenra looks over his shoulder and presses some buttons, bringing the sensor logs up onto the main screen.

"We're void-jilted, ladies and gents. Off course. Missed the mark by more than ten light years."

The display of the planetary system comes up.



Star Type

M3 V Red Dwarf

Radius

3.02 x 105 km   (0.43 x sol)

Mass

7.63 x 1029 kg   (0.38 x sol)

Temperature

2900 K

Luminosity

1.57 x 1025 W   (0.04 x sol)

It lists off ten planets and one signifcantly sized asteroid belt.
The sensor suite display has near two dozen blinking dots respresenting points of interest throughout the system. Three of them are red, representing high interest locations. Two of them are the closest two planets to the binary system and the third one is a moon orbiting an ice planet, 6th from the stars.

The current orbits place the closest planets as relatively close and the 6th planet as far on the other side of the system.

The commander checks something on her display.
"Welcome to the Moril system."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:42, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

"Taku..." Annie made an irritated sound, before keying the bridge.

"Captain. Engineering here. Seems we've got some unwelcome guests. Someone's put an extra regulator on the drive core that wasn't here when we left dock. 's'why we're off target. Do I have permission to remove the offending item?" Like the First Officer, Annabel's voice had that certain quality that showed she was suppressing an accent.

The channel remained open, as if the commander was considering her reply.
"Permission granted."

"Yes, ma'am." She replied with satisfaction, closing the communication window and kneeling to her task, fanning tools out of her sleeve in preparation with a smirk.

"Now... lesee what meks'ya tick, akuyuu." She muttered, and took the cover off the little device after making sure there were no explosive triggers or such on it.

[private to DM:
21:25, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 10 using 2d6+1. PosTech.

You remove it easily enough after rerouting power to the main coupling. It appears to have been designed to install easily so someone without much knowledge could handle it. Additionally though it could have been trapped in a number of ways, it appears there was no such interest in destroying the ship.]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:04, Wed 19 Dec 2012.

Luthar smiled to himself, though you wouldn't know it with the helmet he had on.  "Commander, do we have any katsu...erm..intel on this system?" He asked, his hands still moving amongst the controls as he continued piloting.  He was pleased with how well he could handle the ship at the moment.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:37, Tue 18 Dec 2012.

"Ah, Commander... uhhh..." Maire searched her memory for the commanders name quickly, "Valna! There is most certainly... telepathy of some kind in that system." She said as she sat up from her position quickly, jostling the book that was once again in her lap.

She reacts to each of you in turn, though your outbursts are nearly simultaneous.

"Pilot, unfortunately this falls outside our grid." She is maintaining a calm facade, no doubt from her upbringing as a noble on Haven. "We have minimal information as this system was assigned to another scout ship entirely. IHS-Magellan should already be on station." Valna addresses the science officer at the sensor station with that last remark.

"Telepathy? A message? Where is it coming from?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Wed 19 Dec 2012.

"It's... uhhh, not quite a message. More like... radio static? I really don't know how to explain it that well..." Maire struggled for words to describe what she sensed.

The science officer nodded to the Commander and put up three display images in the center of the bridge. Three high interest locations in the star system.

The furthest to the left on the display was a large world, maybe slightly more massive than Haven, nearest to the stars, right in the habitable zone. Radio signals, just unintelligible patterns that repeat every 47 standard minutes. Several weaker transmissions were coming through too, but it was impossible to tune out the primary broadcast. Iwas almost 7 hours old even at the speed of radio.

The second location of interest was a cold world on the far side of the star system. What was first believed to be a sensor glitch resolve itself as a massive energy signature that stood out even in the shadow of twin red dwarf stars.

The final point of interest was the second world around these stars, barely in the habitable zone as well. This one was notable because there is a transmission originating from it's location. It's in proto-Indari, or 'English' a computerized message. Comm Officer Donell reads it off. "Begin message. 'Zero Zero Zero Dash Seven Seven Nine Zero Dash Two Five Two Dash Zero Zero Zero Death Nine Nine Nine' Message repeats. I can't be certain it's an exact translation." He admits.

The whole bridge sits in silence as they ponder these options.

"Well? Advisor? What do you think? Engineering, what do you make of those readings?"

"Looks like the probability of a pre-spike civilisation on the terrestrial world off the port bow." Annabel replied, calling the data up on a screen and perusing it. "Background signals would tend to rule out the chances of an old distress beacon or pinger." [private to DM:
15:29, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 5 using 2d6+1. Culture/Spacer.
15:30, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 5 using 2d6+1. History.]
[Private to Annabel Grey: OOC: You think it might be some sort of garbled machine code or potentially even a distorted verbal transmission in a heavily accent dialect. Impossible to make out anything intelligible though.]

She pulled up the second scan, of the distant world. "The ice planet on the other side of the system... could be geothermals or some natural catasrophe, but for an energy signal this massive, it seems likely to be artificial or some kind of insane nuclear catastophe. Need to know more and study the data closer before I can give you anything concrete." As she spoke, the young engineer started putting the data into her computer programs for analysis. Energy wavelength, probably sources, frequencies and so forth. [private to DM:
15:30, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 10 using 2d6+1. Science!]
[Private to Annabel Grey: OOC: No doubt about it. X-ray and gamma radiation on a massive scale. The fluxations are consistent with a failing containment system. You estimate that the power output could supply Haven indefinitly.]

"As for the third transmission... Donell, can you send me the raw file? I'll run it through my own program, see if I can interpret that anomaly in the fifth section. Seems likely the rest is in cypher though." [private to DM:
15:33, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 5 using 2d6+1. History.
15:32, Today: Annabel Grey rolled 9 using 2d6+1. Language. ]
[Private to Annabel Grey: OOC: Donell and you put your heads together and his degree in pre-Bloodwar languages is put to use once you get him out of a more traditional route of thinking. The numbers are a digital code indicating a software warning. The word that was translated as "death" should be read as "kill process"]
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:14, Thu 20 Dec 2012.

Janus relaxed in his chair, gently sipping his tea as if oblivious to whatever was happening around him. During this time he meditated upon various facets of the future, looking forward. He saw the ship coming under attack by unknown forces and being blown apart. He also saw a possible safe landing and contact with intelligent life, definitely a more nightmarish possibility. While contemplating the past and the causal patterns that produced the present, his eyes stare off into the middle-distance at nothing in particular, snapping rapidly back into reality the moment events converged around him.

He continued to slowly stir his tea with a tiny spoon and gaze across the bridge at the panel displays showing him all kinds of information about what lay before them not in space, but in time. Janus did not really care about the things themselves that awaited them out there in the amoral and unfeeling entropy of the cosmos. He cared about the events that would describe them, and what other events those events were made of.

Within his mind, Janus contemplated change after change, as if it were possible to reduce reality to a perfect behavioral model by imagining it as an space/time economy of energy in which the basic capital of energy, is power. This was how the sons of Indaris schemed, and how an empire would be made, or broken. There were careful considerations to make. Some consequences might not manifest for several generations of nobility. Things were going to change no matter what, and change always means cost. The only question was, who would live long enough to inherit all the debt.

"At this point, the rational thing to do would be to call for backup or retreat. However, we have to consider things like pride and dignity, as well as other pointless social protocols, like "politics" for example. Therefore, I suggest we pick whatever looks like it'll yield the best immediate profit to our sponsors."

Janus speaks in what seems to be an almost intentionally mechanical way, like reading from a script. It's hard to tell if he's trying to be comical or possibly autistic. If he's joking, then it's surely in bad taste, his delivery being bitter and dry, and mockingly cynical, yet autism seems unlikely.

He certainly seems to enjoy his tea.

So deep were the Advisor's musings and considerations that by the time he was finished, Annabel had opened a new intercom window to the bridge.

"An'kin'd ken y'volis us ta ne sukcesi Mr. Meyrink." The engineer didn't bother to disguise her accent while addressing the man. He was obviously a few spoons short of a cutlery drawer as it was.

"Kaptiano, I'll start small. The Commo and I put our heads together and reckon the third reading is a cogitator of some kind on an error loop, requesting termination. The other radio signal... it's strange. Even putting it through fragment translation can't put it back together. There's too damn much interference. The repeating patterns, though... it could be a verbal transmission, but if so, the language has evolved in a totally different way to ours." She sighed, shaking her head. Finally, she quirked a little grin. "The third reading, though... It's probably what's scrambling the signals from the other worlds. There's a fusion reactor down there big enough to power Haven for the foreseeable future. The bad news is that it's in serious need of maintenance. The containment system is breaking down. I'm still working to try and figure out how long until it fails completely, but I might need to get data from the onsite computers themselves."

She seems to be sorting through some data on her personal device, importing files and read outs from the bridge system over the widecomm. Finally she highlights the distant ice world with a gesture of her right index finger and commands:

"Prepare phasing for the far side of the system. We're going to investigate that radiation anomaly."

[Private to Luthar An'bhaird: OOC: Make a navigation check to find the easiest way through the system to the other side, add +1 for expert piloting base travel time is 16 hours for a spike 3]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:14, Sat 22 Dec 2012.

"Aye, Kapitano." Annie replied from Engineering, hitting the switches. "Phasing prepared. Over to you, helm."

"Aye captain," Luth said as his hands gestured over the navigation controls. Pressing a sensor here, swiping one there, he was looking for a clear and direct path to their destination.

[Private to The Void: OOC: You rolled 11 using 2d6+3 ((4,4)).]

The Shackleton lurched into a low phase, moving now faster than light as it accelerated into the third phase tier, not drilling through metaspace but skirting along as near as it could be.

In a mere 10 short hours the ship would have navigated it's way around the twin stars and into local orbit around the ice planet. The frozen rock had one moon.

The sensor read out appeared on the main displays.



Type:

Ice Planet: Auto Designate: Moril IV

Orbital Radius:

7.17 x 108 km   (4.79 AU)

Period:

9.49 x 104 hours   (10.86 earth years)

Gravity:

10.88 m/s2   (1.11 x earth)

Physical:

Standard iron/silicate

Hydrosphere:

8 % water, 62 % ice

Atmosphere:

80% Nitrogen, 19% Oxygen, >1% Argon, Trace Gasses

Biosphere:

Microbes

Notes:

1 small moon, lethal radiation, artifical structures on planet surface

[Private to Annabel Grey: OOC: At this range it's easy enough to use the sensors on the ship to detect the massive radiation surge. It's coming from the moon.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:36, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

It echoed into his mind for a moment.

"... artificial structures on planet surface."

That meant a great deal of changes in the future. Already, Janus could see reality being defined within a set of probabilities. What he focused on was how me might influence fate. Knowing the statistics involved made it easier, but noise made indeterminacy a problem. He would have to meditate on it much further, later. For now, it was happening. But eventually, many people were going to need to die.

"There you are bridge officers..."

Janus grins, staring at the main display. Death always brings prosperity with it, and so the wise drink from death, becoming immortal.

"... profit, for our sponsors."

"That's all very nice, Mr. Meyrink, but we need to stabilise that reactor on the moon first." Annie interrupted the eccentric Advisor's proto-rant. "If you have to justify it, you need look no further than the phrase 'fusion reactor that could power a whole planet'."

"Orbital delta pattern five nine. Path locked tight-for. Corrections in ninteen passes." The impressive officer looked pleased at these numbers and cast an approving glance at the pilot's couch.

"Commander." He regards Cmdr Valna before hitting a few displays at his station. "Prepare for a landing. Hargrieve, Grey, Doitean and Donnel on the shuttle in fifteen. The Observer may go where he pleases." He says this a little darkly. "Pilot, we're going into auto for orbit. You'll take the shuttle down. Haste-time!"

"A field op?!" Annie squeaked, surprised, then grinned. "Aye-aye." She told the screen, then shut down her workstation for the moment, handing off ship's engineering to the chief as the older woman entered.

Heading to her quarters, she pulled on her red robe, then flipped open her lockbox to retrieve a gunbelt. She strapped it around her waist, making sure to slip a spare charge cell into the ammunition pouch and loading her Modessa Falcon, before flicking the safety back on and holstering it, clipping the flap over to ensure it didn't fall out. Finally, she changed the module set into her metatool for a general-purpose one, sliding the PosTech-specialised unit into its slot in her toolkit, which then took its place in her backpack alongside her slate.

She changed her ship-board safety shoes for boots, then headed down to the shuttle bay with minutes to spare.

Luthar nodded and removed his helmet, "Aye sir, you can count on me. I'll get them their safely." He stood from his position, saluted the commander as he passed, and headed off towards the shuttle, grabbing his gear along the way.  I shouldn't be surprised they are letting me pilot the shuttle solo.  I've been doing it for a few years now, so it's nothing new...this ship though, man can it fly... he was caught up in his thoughts as he made his way to the shuttle.

Janus doesn't announce what he's doing to anybody, he just does it. He doesn't snap to it either, he quietly moves gradually from his seat to a standing position, takes the time to adjust his ceremonial katana, collect his teacup and his glasses, and then gracefully walk off the bridge without so much as acknowledging anyone.

[Private to The Void: Janus goes straight to his quarters and sits down at his computer terminal. He brings up a schematic of the ship's decks, the interior layout of the ship's access-ways and engineering tunnels, portals, shafts, and air-ducts. He studies them for a bit before he calls up another schematic of the ship's security systems, showing camera placement, electronic locks, and all interior sensor fields. He overlays the schematics and begins constructing a tactical map that highlights the most advantageous positions for an ambush, and where to expect one ((tactics), and how to bypass or avoid the ship's security systems ((security)) so as to gain quick access to the ship's main reactor and sabotage the spike drive to create an uncontrollable chain reaction in the power grid that would destroy the ship ((tech/astronautics, which Janus doesn't know)).]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:32, Sat 05 Jan 2013.

Maire wasn't quite as happy as the Engineer had sounded about going on a field op, but she supposed she might as well get over her feelings. She slowly prepared herself, and left the bridge after the other man, heading directly for the shuttle.

From her observer's position, Dizzy watched the screens, though she kept her own council.  She had her uses, she wouldn't be aboard if she hadn't, but they were comparatively minor in space.  She was no Voidwalker, she hadn't grown up around vacuums and twelve hour shift rotations, her boots hungered for firm ground as much as her heart longed for the smell of blood and gunpowder.  This hostile frozen world was just the thing, it would be like a little slice of home.

"Aye, Sir!" Dizzy snapped off a salute, her smirk tugging at a scar along her eye, "Thank you, Sir."

She turned smoothly on her heel and headed for her bunk, opening up the foot locker at the end of her bed and rummaging through it.  Rugged Gareshi winterwear came out, black leather from an amphibious creature that could survive the freezing depths and was strong enough to bull his way through the ice to grab the creatures who would roam atop it during the winter, it's water resistant fur was turned into a thick trim that prevented the snow from melting into the sleeves or collars.  She grabbed a layer of thermal underarmor to help keep her body temperature regular, and then started pulling on her body armor.  Manufactured back home on Garesh, it had of course been intended to be worn over cold-weather gear without further impeding it's wearer, the skull-shaped shoulder and knee-pad settling into place as the only spots of white on her.

She mused silently on the repeated data stream they'd heard.  000-7790-252-000 Death 999.  What did it mean?  Coordinates?  She mused to herself, trying to connect the numbering to any religious texts she'd heard of from before the Hegemony, perhaps a warning they believed any culture descended from the same origin would recognize?  She pulled out a small tin of sealing balm and unsheathed the monoblade on her hip, making a small, practiced incision over the back of her forearm.  Running her thumb over the beading blood, she pressed it to her forehead, drawing it off to the side and then down around the eye before using the index and middle finger of the same hand to spread the balm over her skin and stop any further bleeding.  She took up her rifle, quickly making certain that everything was properly maintained as she spoke a prayer to ask for her god's favor.

"God of war, I call you
My weapon at my side
I seek a life of honor
Free from all false pride

I will stride to battle
With a bold and mighty hail
Cover me with death
If I should ever fail"

"Glory" check the magazine "Majesty" slam it home "Unity" rifle butt to the shoulder "Hail" work the slide "Hail" sight down the weapon "Hail" check the safety.  All good.  She grabbed her helmet with it's rictus grin and headed for the shuttle bay.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:56, Thu 10 Jan 2013.

To the right of Commander's console, Science Officer Justor was seated at his station, but only just barely.  He was a flurry of activity, his fingers manipulating various sensor controls as information about the planet filtered in.  It was understandable; every scrap of information he was receiving was entirely new data, on a system that hadn't been visited since before the Scream.  Honestly, after the void-jilt, Justor had been terribly disappointed.  He had been expecting the remnants of a Federation Space-Port, a treasure trove of tech and history, and instead all he got was a mass of stellar data, and a pre-spike civ.

Regardless, Justor was doing his job, and with gusto.  He even hummed a little tune to himself as he worked, looking like some kind of strange conductor, directing a symphony of sensor screens.  Before long, there wasn't much else he could do but let the system accumulate raw data, and he sat back at last, pressing his fingers together in thought.  When he speaks up, it is in that breakneck tone he assumes whenever he is interested by something.
"Intriguing, Commander, that this first exploratory mission into the Dead Zone for centuries should be sabotaged.  Makes one wonder about saboteur's motives.  Concealment?  Competition?  Could not be rival factions, the mission was dictated by the Hedgemony as a whole.  Motives a mystery, too many variables!"
He grumbled lightly to himself like a child who can't solve a simple puzzle.

-PING-

A sensor alert asserts itself on your holodisplay coming from planetary sector Episilon-seven-nine.

Justor's little internal reverie is interrupted by the sudden alert popping up on his screen, and he immediately leans back in towards the display, assessing the information as quickly as possible.  He hadn't expected any kind of activity on the planet other than the ground team and the failing reactor.
"I've got an alert, Commander.  Analyzing..."
His fingers flew over the controls, and his eyes reflected the light from the display as information flooded by.

A signal, clearly identified by authorized IFF shows the Moonwing class shuttle being persued by several unidentified fast moving fliers. Moments later all but one of the fliers breaks off the pursuit and reverse course...

Well.  That was new.  Justor's manipulation of the equipment turned a bit more animated as he processed that information.
"Sensors are showing the Shuttle being pursued by an unidentified flying craft.  No IFF signatures detected.  Several more contacts have broken off pursuit and heading in reverse course.  Trying for a directed spectrum scan..."
At their altitude, getting any kind of relevant data from a spectrum scan on such fast-moving targets was unlikely.  Still, any information he could collect might be invaluable in determining the nature of the ground team's enemy.

Master Farhenra immediately storms over to the Comms station and begins to hail the shuttle, with no response.

"There's some sort of low-frequency jamming signal that we can't punch through. I think the drones are generating it." Donnel responds

"Gorramit. Wake the Commander, she'll want to know what's happening."

The comms officer sends a message to the Commander's quarters.

Several things happen almost at once:

A panicked looking deck crewman bursts through the hatch into the cramped bridge area and rushes up to the XO. "We're under attack! There's an intruder on the ship, heading for engineering!"

Comms Officer Donnel looks questioningly up at Farhenra from his station. "Sir, intership comms are down. Looks like sabotage... the network was cut at the hub."

The last drone indicator on the sensor screen disappears. Lost contact. The shuttle remains however.

Contact is restored with the shuttle. "Shackelton to shuttle! Respond! Shackleton to Moonwing! Respond! Repeat, Respond!"

Primary power goes out on the bridge, emergency systems kick in immediately, but more than half the stations are down and red emergency lighting lends a hellish aspect to the cramped command center.

A response comes from the surface.
"Moonwing to Shackleton, we copy.  Drones were attracted to us, and attacked. One is downed, the others are..disabled I do believe. Over." The voice of the Shuttle pilot sounds relieved.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:24, Mon 04 Feb 2013.

Through all the chaos unfolding on the Bridge, Justor maintained his station like a professional, doing his best to get as much information as possible on the Shuttle aggressors.  It didn't end up doing much good in the end, as they were swiftly reduced the emergency power, and the shuttle managed to destroy or disable their pursuer before Justor could learn anything else about it.  He'd have to study any data the Shuttle compiled while in action.  The crew too.  For now, though, they had bigger concerns.

Stepping up from his station, Justor approached Master Farhenra.
"We need to secure Engineering.  Saboteur won't stop at internal comms and power systems, likely move on to life support or navigation, kill us or force a crash landing, strand us in Dead Zone.  No, no no, Commander must be alerted first, head of chain of command, likely a target, keep us disorganized so infiltrator can move easier-"
The doctor shook his head quickly, realizing quickly this wasn't his area of expertise, and so he shouldn't stress himself thinking about it.  Instead, he fixed his heterochromatic eyes on Farhenra.
"Orders, Master Farhenra?"

The sharp-boned Farhenra was already swiping an access card through a locker on the corner of the bridge deck, punching in a eight digit key, he cracks open the double-thick panels to reveal an arms locker. Seizing a rifle he tosses it to the Comms officer. He holsters a sidearm and presents another one to Justor.

"Since you've seen fit to take the initiative, load up and move with us. We're converging on the engineering section. We've got at least one intruder or saboteur to deal with. You know how to use that thing, right, son?"

He regards you with his dark, serious eyes.

"Right. Arm up and move out. Stay in groups and shoot to kill. We can't afford any casualities. Anyone who won't stand down and be taken into custody takes a bullet. Am I understood?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:37, Wed 06 Feb 2013.

Justor takes the pistol from Farhenra without hesitation, though he takes a bit longer than the Comms officer to inspect the firearm.  It had been a long time since he'd held a weapon; not since basic training when he joined the military.  All he'd held onto since then was a pen or research equipment.  In any case, Justor double-checked the magazine and deactivated the safety.  He looked back at Farhenra, his expression totally calm.
"Ja, Understood."
If he was gonna have to kill someone today, no point in letting his emotions play a role.  He was all business.  He fell in alongside Farhenra and the rest of the bridge crew that felt inclined to accompany them to Engineering, keeping his eyes sharp.

Farhenra leads the way and you notice that along with his Indari Infantry Rifle and a side arm he has one of the skana swords strapped to his back in a simple hand-made sheath. The rest of the bridge crew forms up.

Farhenra, Justor, Chief Medical Venn, Comms Officer Donell, the Deck crewman who alerted them to the situation and one of the Astral Troopers arm up and leave the bridge as the XO seals the main hatch. From what you understand the other Marine pursued the saboteur alone.

---->To Engineering

Justor had to double time it just to keep up with the more seasoned soldiers, and actually found himself jogging closer to the back of the pack as they approached Engineering.  It wasn't entirely due to his lack of athletisism, as putting a non-combatant on point would be just asking to get him killed.  Still, Justor couldn't reason his way out of it; he needed to get back into fighting shape if he wanted to keep this job and stay alive.
"Hnn, I must remember to start a more stringent exercise regimen once this is over..."

---->To Engineering
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Thu 07 Feb 2013.

True to his word, Farhenra's access code unseals the bridge and allows you back in. The alarms have been silenced now and the ship has a strange silence to it, most of it's system having been shut down. Luckily, comms were repaired with a little splicing and rerouting to the navigation system. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

-->From Engineering-->

Once repairs to the Comms console were made, Justor had Donnel begin hailing the Shuttle.  They needed the field team back ASAP, both to get them off that planet and to get repairs started on the Shakleton.
"Shakleton to Moonwing.  Return to hangar immediately.  Repeat, Moonwing, return to hangar immediately."
He waited for a response, unsure of whether or not the Shuttle was even still operational with the sensor station disabled.

A female voice responds after a brief moment. She sounds tense.

"This is Away Team, Shackleton, we receive you but do not recognize.  Please identify and transmit Hegemony Recognition Codes."

Donnel punches a few keys in response and nods at you to continue.

It seems the ground team was a bit on edge as well.  Not surprising, considering they'd just had to fight off some kind of drone construct on an alien planet.  That didn't mean that Justor was any less riled up, having just looked death in the face.  He waited while Comm Officer Donnel punched in the Hegemony Recognition Codes before leaning back in to re-transmit.
"This is Science Officer Justor Reson.  Return to hangar immediately.  Primary power has been disabled, operating on emergency power.  We need Voidmaster Grey back for repairs immediately.  I repeat, return to hangar immediately."

Several minutes go by with no response from the ground.

"I'm able to ping their transmitters. They're just not responding." Sam screws his face up in frustration at the monitor.
This message was last updated by the GM at 22:37, Fri 08 Feb 2013.

Another minute and the comms finally crackle again, the harsh voice of the woman you spoke to before cutting through.

"Shackleton, this is the Away Team.  We're en route now, keep the light on for us."

As the minute stretched on, Justor was slowly becoming concerned.  He had no idea what had made them so suspicious that requested authentication.  It wasn't as though there were any other ships in the area.  They didn't even know what had just happened on the ship!

Luckily, before Justor could repeat his message, he got a response that they were en route back to the ship.
"Understood, Away Team."
That said, Justor returned to the sensor station to at least try and regain a signal on the Moonwing.  Just to ensure they didn't lead any visitors back.

-From Moonwing-

Luthar came into the Bridge quickly, looking around he stood to one of the sides and gave a quick salute. "Pilot An'bhaird reporting in." He wasn't entirely sure who was here, who wasn't, but wanted to be sure to cover bases encase the Commander was standing there.  He stood for a moment, then relaxed, "What can I help with?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 22:54, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

The bridge is a mess.

The Comms Officer and his Junior Comms officer are waist deep in wires, fiber optic cables and disconnected pieces of hardware>

Half the deck panels are up on their sides, with the crew chief crawling around beneath the deck working on something.

One of the Astral Troopers, still partially in his combat armor with his rifle laying on a chair is up to his elbows in the commander's station.

The activity gave the bridge the appearance of a gutting beast being scavaged by angry dogs.

Justor Reson performs similar duties at his science station, digging through all the internal workings of the bridge equipment.

"We're looking for cricketts." He replied without bothering to look up or pull his head out from under the console. "Listening devices, short-fuses, holoscanners, EM decoys, Gareshi middlemen, explosives... anything that shouldn't be here."

"Understood." Luthar nodded as he headed to the nearest unoccupied area and started searching for anything that he thought might be out of the ordinary. Though most of this was beyond him, he still gave it his best efforts.  I've got to train myself a bit more at this stuff.  Just knowing a ship is bad.

18:09, Today: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 5 using 2d6. Perception check!

"So...what exactly happened?" Luthar said, hands deep in wires beneath a console.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

"I'm here, where-" Annie gasped, catching her breath. She'd run all the way up here in her pressure suit. "What's the situation? Where do you need me? Where is Shubai?"

"Master Shubai is dead."
Justor's voice floated up from within the depths of his station, followed shortly by his face as he retreated back into sight.  He wiped his hands on his uniform, and began sorting through some of the tools sitting atop the Sensor Station consoles.  His expression was focused, as was typical of the Science officer when he was working.
"Upon your encounter with the Drones on planet, Janus Meyrink sabotaged the ship and disabled our primary power and internal comm systems.  Master Shubai and Crewman Venn were killed.  Master Farhenra and the bridge crew found Meyrink in Engineering, and stopped him from killing Warrior Aesgar.  Astra Prime Donnel accompanied me back to the Bridge, and I relayed your return orders."

Justor turned his head and looked towards Annabel, but returned his gaze to the station before speaking again.
"They will probably need your help in Engineering, Voidmaster."

OOC
15:31, Today: Justor Reson rolled 7 using 2d6+2. Perception On the Bridge.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

Annabel stopped, staring at him.

Shubai was dead? And Sam too..? The very concept knocked her for six.

"R-right... I'll... head down there. Meyrink was..? But..." The spacer stammered, processing. She shook it off a moment later and turned round, cursing the morons who put the bridge at the front of the ship in her head as she ran down towards the Engineering section.

-- Engineering -->

"Master Farhenra has been searching the ship for the Commander, but so far..." He doesn't seem to want to finish that thought.
"Shipwide comms are down, as you've likely noticed. It's made coordinating our efforts difficult."

Luthar poked his head up momentarily, "I'm...I'm sorry to hear we lost crewmen."  He didn't have much to add, he didn't want to think to much about it.  The drones didn't become hostile until he tried jamming them, so was it possible this was his fault?  He shook the idea from his head and went back to work on the station he was at.

18:52, Today: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 7 using 2d6. Another Perception cheeeeeck!

He continued moving the mass of wires in front of him, hoping that if there was something unusual, he'd be able to spot it.  Knowing full well though, that someone might have to go behind him.

So far, you've found nothing. Both of you pick through various components, but nothing seems out of place.

"There's something else... I haven't seen Pilot Eastfall since before the attack..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:58, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

Maire wandered her way onto the bridge after Luthar, but remained out of the way. "Missing Crewmen... especially the commander. Dead crewmen... deithe... what have we gotten ourselves into?" She asked herself. She quickly pulled herself together and stood up straighter, quickly heading over to the man who had said that Master Farhenra was looking for the Commander. "I could help him locate her, and possibly the missing pilot. Seeing as right now all I'm good for is looking for things, that seems to be the best decision. Where has he already looked? So I don't cover areas that have already been covered." She asked.

"Master Farhenra moved directly from the Bridge to Engineering.  With comms down, we don't know exactly where he is or what he has done since then.  Engineering is also where we found Janus Meyrink; perhaps you will be able to retrace his steps."
Taking hold of a light, Justor moved back into the innards of the Sensor Station, his jaw clenched a bit.
"One hopes his steps will not lead you to the Commander..."

That seemed to be all Justor had to say on the matter, as he turned his attention fully to combing the inner workings of his equipment for monitoring or sabotage equipment.

OOC
16:27, Today: Justor Reson rolled 9 using 2d6+2. Perception Check it up!

"Let's hope. Let's certainly hope not." Maire muttered as she turned and left the bridge. Before she went far though she quickly went back to the SHuttle to see if Dizzy was still there. She might be needed as well.

To The Shuttle

The pilot? Luthar stood from where he was and walked over to the pilot's seat.  "I know this part of the Bridge the best....I'll search here...." He started combing through the wiring and controls, and anything he could get his hands on.  Last thing he wanted was the pilot's chair affected....


19:49, Today: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 5 using 2d6. Perception check...again!

Luthar, you still don't find anything after a lot of searching.

Justor, you notice a strange little dark blue torus, blinking quietly from underneath the main buffer interlay. Upon closer inspection, it's been sloppily soldered into the circuit... and it sticks out now that you've got it in front of you.

OOC:Really though, you should (all) be rolling this less often, searching everything takes a while. Rolling a 5 doesn't mean you KNOW you rolled a 5 right? You're not even certain there IS something to find, just that there might be.

"So, what's the plan once we clean up Meyrink's mess? We going back planet side, or are we jumping elsewhere, putting this bad luck behind us?" Luthar didn't look up while he spoke.  He just kept searching.  His hands ran along the controls, and the seat where he'd sat once, remembering that feeling of damn near loosing his lunch after the spike drill.


OOC:I think we just enjoy rolling dice. :)

"I couldn't say, really. It's going to depend on what the Commander thinks. Or Master Farhenra..."

Justor spies the little blinking blue light, and pulls himself closer to the circuit it seems to be coming from, disappearing a bit deeper into the console.  At the sight of the sloppy soldering job, Justor frowns slightly, muttering to himself in Jazryzik.
"Tam vy, Soet."
He reaches out from under the console, feeling about for one of the tools atop display.
"I believe I have found something."

Wheee Dice!  I'll tone it down.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:30, Tue 12 Feb 2013.

You reconsider for a moment.

You don't know what this is. It could be a bomb for all you know. Cutting it loose without some examination might not be a good idea...

Poking his head out from a swathe of cables and conduits, the junior comms officer looked over to the console where the science officer noted his discovery. He would have sprang up and ran over, but he was waist deep in fibres, having been meticulously checking for some kind of physical evidence of tampering.

"Wh.. what have you found?" the softly spoken lad asked apprehensively.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:10, Wed 13 Feb 2013.

Before Justor could take any tools to the thing, his better sense took hold, and he realized that tampering with it prematurely may cause more damage than it fixed.  Instead, Justor grabbed a magnification tool and brought it under the console, using it to inspect the circuit board more closely.  He heard Aloysius' question and answered after a few long moments.
"I am not sure, but it appears to be something that was added haphazardly to the console electronics.  I would remove it, but something tells me that doing so may be a poor idea.  It is unlikely whoever put this here would want to be found out."

Thoroughly excited by what Reson was reporting to have found, Logan hurriedly returned the fibres and cables to their housings and conduits before quickly scooting over to crouch behind the science officer and lay his eyes upon the strange addition to the circuitry.

[Private to GM:
- Does the blue torus device resemble anything Ludo is familiar with?
-- Does it look like Indari technology?
- Does Ludo have a passive scanner or similar equipment to use to identify what it's doing?]

It doesn't look alien. After some staring and scanning you determine it is not explosive, but it IS bypassing one of the main data gridlines....

OOC: I need a postech use check to figure out what it might be without opening it up and potentially breaking it.

After a few moments of inspection, Justor lets out a short breathe.
"Doesn't appear immediately dangerous...but this orientation..."
He was directly poking or prodding at the thing any longer; now his mind was at work, turning the thing over and over in his head, trying to deduce the purpose of the device based off it's design and positioning.

21:27, Today: Justor Reson rolled 12 using 2d6+2. PostTech Roll.

You finally realize what it is. Of course, the torus shape and positioned beneath the science console...

[Private to Justor Reson: It's a sub-wave transmitter, designed to piggyback off the local shipwide comm and... feed information into the console.

You realize that this could make you see anything it wanted. Currently, it's nonfunctional since the comms are down but...]

It was a flash of realisation that swept Reson's face. Though it still hadn't quite dawned on Logan.

With Reson's discovery of evidence of tampering, this strange device crudely soldered into the circuitry of the science console, Logan quickly made his way to a functional computer console and started digging through logs. Looking for the last mention of repairs and maintenance performed on the console, and who was on the bridge at the time it was performed... If there was some detail in the logs that added evidence to the saboteur's activities, it could only be a good thing to have in One's possession. Not only that, but perhaps there was enough information to follow a trail to identify other potentially compromised locations or equipment.

Luthar listened intently as the crew spoke about what they had found.  He couldn't really make heads or tails of most of what he was looking at.  I should have Dizzy teach me something so I at least know what this is supposed to look like. He chuckled slightly to himself, as he moved up from the floor, seating himself in the pilot seat.  He flicked through the controls, curious to see how the ship was doing, other than the obvious mess of what he saw, hoping he could gather some kind of info, hoping that the computers weren't down entirely.

"Do we know how long till comms are back up?"  He was trying to make some conversation, perhaps make these tasks move along a bit faster if he had something else to focus his attention on.


17:45, Today: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 11 using 2d6+2. Pilot check. [Private to The Void: Essentially I'm looking to see if there was anything that Janus messed with outside of just pulling a bunch of wires and shutting the comms down.  This is probably a bad idea, but whatever. I've gotten out of worse already. ^.^]

[Private to GM: 11:23, Today: Aloysius Logan rolled 11 using 2d6+02. Postech. <<< This is for my last post, about digging through the logs.
11:36, Today: Aloysius Logan rolled 3 using 2d6. Perception - of log data. OOC: Yikes :P maybe a +1 for intelligence? Or maybe ignore the roll for a noob? xD]

Ludo's console beeped as his adept fingers danced across the screens. Sometimes he wished he could just port directly into the computer... a direct link from his neural pathways to the ship's computer would allow him to work as fast as his mind moved. Alas, his fingers, though quick, would often bring his inner-tensions to boiling-point - especially in situations where time was not on his side.

"Standby." he replied to the pilot.

At the pilot's query, his left hand shot across to a nearby screen and it performed a ship-wide systems query, almost purely from muscle memory. Logan looked down to monitor the results of the systems query. [Private to GM: I assume system report is standard operation, not requiring a roll.
- long range scanners working?
- short range scanners?
- comms systems?
- hull integrity?
- life support?
- escape pods?
- weapons + shields?
- anything else as / standard

Based on comms system results, Ludo would try estimate a time until shipwide comms were back up - to answer the pilot. He would factor into the equation the potential of needing to identify and remove the weird device Reson found.]

"Sir," Logan turned to Donell as he waited for the results, <Green>"is your personal Compad operational?"</Blue>
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Wed 13 Feb 2013.

Luthar slipped into the pilots harness again, naturally lying on the bed of cushioning plastics around the gravity pod intended to keep him from being effected by drastic changes in velocity. He queries the system and tests the flight controls.

[Private to Luthar An'bhaird: You realize that all though you COULD manuever the ship like this, you wouldn't be able to see anything since navigation is down. Long range sensors are up, but that's like trying to fly while wearing binoculars. Plus, attitude thrusters are all you have; main engines are down.]

Aloysius "Ludo" Logan fired off some commands... and got a disappointing response.

ERROR: CONNECTION OFFLINE - NO ENDPOINT DETECTED

Of course, ships comms being offline means the datacore is inaccessible and all but rudimentary systems were inaccessible. The whole network had been cut or shut down.

What you get from the bridge processor is minimal, but useful.

[Private to Aloysius Logan: -Long range sensors online
-Short range sensors offline
-Comms systems online
-Shipwide network offline
-Hull Integrity unknown
-Life support unknown
-Weapons offline
-Main engines offline
-Spike drive offline

This ship does not have escape pods nor does anyone have "Shields" such a thing has never been practical or even been demonstrated, though it's been tried often enough.

You estimate... full restoration? Without a dry dock? Impossible. Restoring systems to a state where mission could be continued with mininal impact... at least a week.]

The light of recognition sparked in Justor's eyes as he inspected the torus, but the small victory was so heavily tempered by earlier events that Justor couldn't bring himself to be excited.  In fact, the implications of what he just found made the day a good deal worse.
"This...this is a sub-wave transmitter.  I had assumed that any sabotage might be designed to spy or steal information, but this is designed to feed falsified sensor readings."
Justor rubbed his eyes as the full scope of their situation settled in.
"Everything we have detected since embarking is questionable.  It could have been falsified at any time; it might have been falsified all along."

He pulled himself out from under the console and sat back in the chair, rubbing his chin and looking thoughtful.
"This is problematic.  This device requires our Comm systems to be active in order to receive the falsified sensor readings.  As soon as we reactivate them, our status will be broadcast back, and our sensor readings will be completely unreliable."
A thought occurred to him after a moment, and he looked to Donnel.
"Astra Prime Donnel, would you be able to trace any erroneous Sub-Wave Signals being received by this device?  This may be our only clue as the perpetrators of this fiasco."

Logan mumbles something akin to swear words then clears his throat awkwardly.

"Uh, An'bhaird?" Logan called out loudly to the pilot. "I can confirm intership comms are down until the shipwide network can be repaired, in Engineering. Couldn't tell you how long until that might take until I assess the damage first-hand."

The wiry man sighed before continuing.

"Every other major system is offline or status unknown - including the spike drive."

Logan taps the bridge processor with an idle finger. "Long range sensors and external comms are operational though." Logan concludes with volume, hoping Donell would hear this interesting tidbit.

Logan's brow furrowed and he pouted in confusion. "That's strange... wh- why weren't those systems crippled too..." he asks himself, as he tries to manipulate the bridge processor to discover any signals coming in or out of the Shackleton. [Private to GM: One final attempt to sweep the frequencies to see if there are any signals coming in and/or out of the ship.

]

OOC: just tweaked this post to indicate Logan would need to get down to engineering to determine the extent of the damage.

[Private to GM: EDIT: Also perform a long range scan for other ships in the system... If the internal shipcomms are down, then that blue thing can't feed us any false data... right?]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:13, Wed 13 Feb 2013.

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.