The computer acknowledges Ledo's command. Statistics and formulaes whirl about on the screens for a moment. And then the screens go dark. The atmo powers down to a thin trickle. The lights flicker and dim. The engines stop. The deck and walls of the ship stop shaking.
It's 'The Minute'. That brief space of time pre-Jump where the Systems power down everything non-essential and put the essentials on to low power. It's meant to build up an energy reserve to power the spark that will light up the hydrogen bubble that will send
Tia into a pocket universe.
It's mostly ceremonial these days. Most ships can handle generating the power these days.
Tia could. Probably. Once Rig gets all the patch work done. Sure. It shouldn't be a problem. But...well, it's tradition. Don't want to disregard tradition, right?
Then it starts. The poet Ansel Elsen described Jump as
the moment when breath
forces out
when the floor under your feet
comes out
from under you. when there is no other way
but out
when the stars go from motes to horizons and are then
snuffed out
you are gone
Of course Elsen was a degenerate who liked to dress up in the pelts of female Vargars and insisted he was the reincarnation of a 22nd century Warlord named Mitzi. So what does he know?
But in this, he may not have been wrong.
First there's the fear. The engines have stopped. The subtle shaking the crew has gotten used to is not there. There's little air coming through the vents. That voice, the irrational one, squeaks up in the back of your head.
what if it's engine failure? happens sometimes you know.
But then the thruming in the floors starts up. Soft at first. Then growing. It transfers inside through the soles of the feet. Up the talus bone and into the meat of the thighs. Oh yeah. That's the spot.
By the time it gets to the chest, the atmo kicks back on. Another voice in the head.
I'm gonna live!
well. maybe next time
Outside, hydrogen boils over the ship. The
Anson-Synitz static coils located in various parts of the hull receive a signal. They spark. The hydrogen burns.
The stars stop being dots. They become long, thin strands of light in the void. And then they are gone.
The
Tia was there. And now it's gone.
Rig's comm lights up.
Line 12U has to have another bypass. The surge was too big for the previous one. That line shorted out.
One of the
Anson-Synitz fired late. It didn't matter. There are redundant coils. But the fact one misfired is never a good feeling for an engineer.
So much to do.
But the first Jump went off. No one's dead. Yet.
Nothing he can do about the coil now. Not a good idea to go outside during Jump. Besides, that's something a space station really needs to handle.
He'll have to replace that line that got shorted out. And of course, he's still got to deal with 12U.
And 54 other items on his fix-it list.
The lower belt on the hydro-buff is off the wheel again. Fourth time thus far.
Silver has been having to push this thing manually, in order to get it to pass over the areas of coolant. The machine vacuums up the goo and buffs the deck at the same time. So it's the ideal tool.
If only it would move by itself. Someone will need to figure out why that belt keeps slipping off. She's put it back on twice now. It doesn't seem to have helped. Her hands smell like cleaning fluid.
Her comm beeps.
She's got a message.
You wanna do a deal?
No sender. It didn't come through the mainframe either.
The first intrasystem flight?
Handled like a champ.
The first Jump?
Well. Still not over. But done and done.
The first set of problems?
Ledo watches the system reports flash up on the screen. Whatever's going on with the ship mechanically, system wise it's running like a dream.
Everything checks. Barring engine failure, they will arrive Jone-space in four days, twelve hours and around twenty six minutes.
Tia is flying.
He's finishing up the paperwork. That is signing off on the system reports when the computer flashes him an incoming comm.
It's odd. It's not coming from anyone on board. And it's not coming through Mainframe either.
There's someone on your crew you can't trust. You know who it is.
Sylvia sighs.
"No. I get it. When you're with one of the Ministries, you always have to get used to some kind of security rigamarole. Though tiny robot assassins is a new one to me."
"Yes. Ours are usually human sized."
"Ada Dear. You're oversharing." She looks back at Tepha as they walk down the hall to their quarters.
"Everything is alright. Right?"
Tepha is escroting the high passengers back as Ledo and Silver are getting messages. You can let me know what Rig is doing. We are in post-Jump.
Let me know if there are questions. Thanks
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:06, Thu 09 Apr 2020.
