PBEM Turn 91.01c (533 lines, 24 229 characters)
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This is PART 3 of 5. It covers the third half hour or so.
***** current position of ships, etc. ****
Definitely NOT to scale :=)
(Top View) Ring and Alcyon orbiting CCW as seen from here.
W = Westwind, ~3 AU from Alcyon, 25 minutes each way for signals
GA = Gemini Arbiter ~2 AU from Alcyon, 15 min. each way
B = Bernoulli and Aurora, 10 minutes one way signal to Alcyon
S = Shuttle, 5 min. one way
T = Trakh, 5 min. now aloft, and intercepting
All the rest within a few seconds for round-trip signals
P = Paladin, taking a couter-rotation sweep for faster mapping?
K = Kingfisher ~ 5 minutes to Alcyon
Al = Alcyon
Ta = Talisman
W
GA __-----__
/ \
/ \
/ \
| |
| |
| |
| * |
| |
Al P | |
| |
KS\ /
T /
Ta \--_____--/
Au
B
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- ---------------
Aurora
- ---------------
"Aslan or no, that's our job and Commander Ger is counting on us. He's
on this mission because Turnskaad knew of his qualifications -- they
knew he might have to handle loads of sticky situations. Certainly he
has the ability to negotiate with some Aslan and reach an accomodation.
I have confidence in his ability to do just that -- so should you."
Christian gently chides 'Vouf. "This is no time to tuck in your tail
and surrender to the absurdity of it all. It's time we started throwing
it right back into Fate's teeth and take control."
"Surrender's a dirty word to my people, aenrra," 'Vouf says darkly, buttoning
up his collar and reaching for his helmet and PLSS-A pack.
Tucking his sleek gauss pistol in a shoulder holster, Christian steps
to the airlock control panel and, looking at 'Vouf, nods at the closed
outer airlock. "I'm going for a walk, aenrra, how about you?"
'Vouf checks his gauntlets, tool belt, and pistols, which are hanging low
on his thighs in fast-draw position. "Ready when you are, Christian."
He carefully slips his muzzle into the helmet and secures it in place.
"Moira, current status and Bernoulli ETA, please." A few moments of
silence is broken by the melodic tones of the ship's computer.
<All systems nominal, sir. Fusion plant and maneuver drives are within
tolerance limits. Aurora will intercept the Bernoulli in three point
eight nine four minutes. (pause) Sensors indicate that the Bernoulli's
power plant output has dropped fifteen percent. Diagnostics show main
fuel pump failure. Switching to auxiliary pump and fuel routing systems.
Compensating. Power output stabilized. ETA now one point seven six two
minutes. Orders, sir?>
Christian considers the situation for a moment, then acts. "Moira,
bring the Bernoulli to all stop and take the Aurora down from overdrive
status. Initiate ship to ship docking sequence alpha two. Complete
maneuver and stand by for further orders."
<Aye, sir. Executing Alpha Two.>
The Bernoulli seemingly glides to a stop as the Aurora approaches from
aft, slowly settling closer to the Bernoulli, slower and slower until
the airlock mating collars meet and the Aurora likewise is still. A
slight jar as the ships mate, then the seal forms and an indicator
on the airlock control panel softly glows green.
Christian taps the door control and the outer iris valve smoothly
opens. Glancing back down the corridor, Christian motions to the
Iridium twins as he steps into the airlock proper. "Hey aenrra,
what'ja need, an Imperial invitation?" Christian waves 'Vouf into
the airlock, then closes the outer iris valve.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," 'Vouf mutters, looking blackly at the two
robots, who are jostling him.
"Moira, open the Bernoulli main airlock doors." <Aye, sir. Done.>
The airlock's pressure controls stare at the boarding party with an angry
red glow. Interior hull pressure 1000 torr. (1.3 atmospheres) Christain
nearly looses his balance as he steps into the Bernoulli's lock. Internal
gravity set for 7m/s^2 (.7G) The pressure adjustment takes only a moment
and the sudden pressure increase seems to grip at the boarders bodies as
their vac suits clamp tight around them.
Christian takes a deep breath. "Ready or not, here I come!" A touch
and the inner door opens with nary a sound. The wisps of frost which
decorate the Bernoulli's airlock chamber glisten and glare in the
ambient lighting, an indication of damage to the outer seal. Bounding
through into the main corridor, Christian reflexively glances aft,
as if expecting a saboteur to loom out of the shifting shadows which
resulted from bomb damage to the aft lighting systems.
Pointing towards engineering, Christian yells to 'Vouf. "Aenrra, you
go aft and secure engineering; I'm going to the bridge, I bet that's
where the patient is." He swivels his head towards Dulinor and Lucan.
"Follow me!" Christian swiftly jogs fore-ward, the Iridium Twins
silently trailing in his wake.
The forward corridor has been extensively modified. All the
stateroom bulkheads have been torn out forming one large communal room.
The wall and ceiling holopanels project an odd image as though the room
were on top of a high mesa overlooking a great desert. A reddish sun
lights the room while whisps of holgraphic clouds roll across the sky.
The effect is somewhat spoiled by the large demountable fuel tanks which
take up half the volume of the room.
"Right behind you, aenrra." Bhyarrvouf stumbles in the lighter gravity
but recovers himself quickly, making his way down the hallway to the
Drive Room....and comes face to face with OSF-4.
He stifles a yip of fear, Leadfoot all too recent and painful a memory,
as he looks over the lethal warbot. "Oh, for the good old days," he
mutters in Vuakedh. "Well, if he wants to kill me, he will....*sigh*"
*click*
"I assume I'm addressing OSF-4? Well, ah, um, great! Great to meet you.
I see you did a good job of defusing the bomb." While making this nervous
patter and keeping a close eye on the RAM launchers, 'Vouf looks over the
Drive Room with a practiced eye. "What a mess," he says mildly. He turns
to the warbot and his voice takes on a ring of authority.
- ------
With his knowledge of the standard S layout, Christian reaches the
bridge in seconds. Looking in, he is momentarily taken aback at
the sight of Doctor Trrrweeerrrlll lying sprawled, half over an
acceleration perch. His pallor is alarming (even for an Ael Yael)
and his respiration is ragged and shallow. Despite the shock, there
is something about the forlorn figure which is familiar to Christian.
A vague memory, something about a courier mission? Christian shakes
the thought from his mind as he sets to work on the task at hand.
The air of the bridge is heavy, while the type S Scouts air system always
was a bit of a snafu, it can hardly deal with the stench of severe jump
sickness nausea. There's your dehydration and malnuitrition right there!
A smaller Aeloid screeches in alarm. With a single flap, it leaps to the
top of an acceleration perch and stares at Christian while looking
defensively at it's master. Yet it keeps its distance from the operation
not interfering.
"Tiger, Down!" a voice comes seemingly from nowhere. But quickly, a
boxlike robot detatches itself from the control panels and hovers over
to the small Aeloid which retreats glaring at the intruders.
"I am assistant robot Triple Three. I am instructed to assist you.
I am not programmed for medical situations, but will assist in any
way consistant with my programming."
Squatting down on the grey deckplate, Christian sets the mode with
a thumb as he runs the medical scanner over the prone Doctor, then
turns to view the analyzed results on the portable med-computer.
As advertised, severe jump-sickness with a variety of complications.
Christian frowns. That wasn't expected. Respiratory distress, becoming
more severe as time passes, with attendant cyanosis.
Tweel's eyes flutter open slowly. With difficulty focussing, he twists
his head around upsidedown to study Lucan closing in on him.
"Marrrk sseven medbot... Obssollessscent..." His eyes close slowly.
"Planned obssolllessence... Ssstupid. Upgrrrrrade..." Tweel's neck
slowly untwists itself as he sinks back below conciousness.
- ---------
"OSF-4, I assume your primary responsibility is to safeguard the life of
your owner. My colleague is seeing to him right now, and will evacuate
him to the Aurora immediately upon stabilizing him. I want you to accompany
him over to the Aurora and observe the medical procedures. I also assume
you'll be monitoring what I do over here while you're gone; just so you know,
I'm going to mothball the Bernoulli for safe keeping until we can repair
her properly. That means a plant shutdown, venting the fuel, and a shift
of all systems to standby status. Then we'll flush the bad air out and
leave her in nice, clean vacuum. When we get ready to leave, we'll fuel
and re-air her and fix the machinery, not that it matters since she'll be
riding the Alcyon, that's our Jump tender, out of the system with us anyway."
- ----------
The Iridium Twins glide into position over the treatment site, with
sensor probes extended to supplement Christian's scanner. A quick
look at the other vital signs, then he dives into his medkit for
an injector and the ampule of Neojumpsin (universal jump sickness
serum). Christian attaches the ampule to the injector, verifies
the dosage level and injects Tweel. "Damn!" The vital signs improve
somewhat, but his respiration continues to decline. "Must have
weakened his pulmonary muscle control too much.." mutters Christian.
"Dulinor, inject 3cc Gamma-Nutrium. Analyze jump sickness complications
and suggest appropriate response. Lucan, compute Ael Yael dosage and
prepare Cordrazine injection. Hand me the portable support unit." As
the robot arm holds the pack out to Christian, the medcomp emits a
strident, continuous tone. Christian's head snaps over to look at
the vidscreen in fearful anticipation. "Pulmonary arrest!" Suddenly
the urgency rachets up a notch, as a flurry of activity breaks out.
"Lucan, inject NOW. Ready supplemental dosage." Christian snatches the
pack from Lucan and speedily attaches the cardio/pulmonary stimulator
unit to Tweel's chest region. He taps the controls and the gizmo
springs to life. A few minutes of frantic work and Christian reviews
the readout. Good, life signs stabilizing, but too low for comfort.
"Dulinor, Lucan -- help me get him into the portable med-berth." The
two robots pick Tweel up, carefully folding his five meter wing span,
and 1.5 meter tail, and slide him into the capsule with perhaps
surprising gentleness and care considering the light weight but large
bulk of the giant bird.
Christian taps his intraship communicator. "Aenrra, I have the
survivor stabilized but he needs to get aboard the Aurora stat. Am
heading there now. Van Der Merwe out." Christian gathers up his
supplies, then addresses his charges. "To the Surgery -- let's go!"
Christian jogs back down the corridor, the two robots carrying the
med-berth, trailing in his wake yet again.
"Go!" Bhyarrvouf watches the trio, pushing the berth, leave the Bernoulli.
He then turns to the two robots and says, "One more thing, you and the
crew of this ship have placed yourselves in the hands of our team under
the terms of the Distressed Spacefarers Act. You should review the legal
responsibilities that entails, on BOTH of our parts, and further note the
fact that you are boarding a ship of the IISS Intelligence Office, with
the security regulations that THAT entails. No data taps or rewiring,
understand?" He pauses.
"They're on their way to the airlock. I'll follow you." He waves OSF-4 away.
After Oscar leaves, 'Vouf quickly and carefully bags the remains of the
bomb, then finishes shutting down the rest of the systems. Life support
sighs to a halt; the lights go out and are replaced by the self-powered
emergency lights. Bhyarrvouf vents the remaining hydrogen from the tanks,
and satisfies himself that the Bernoulli will be safe until refueled and
started up again.
On the way out, 'Vouf pauses for a moment. Visions of Leadfoot's metal fists
smashing into him come back vividly. He heads up to the Bridge, and finds
the main avionics panels. Carefully and with great speed, he locates the
main and backup computers, disconnects them, and removes the memories-- they
too will be safe until called for.
"Job well done," 'Vouf mutters, crossing the bridge and shutting the airlock.
The Bernoulli is left behind-- safe and sound, but unable to maneuver or
sustain life until refurbished.
He rides the plume of escaping air across to the Aurora, dragging a motley
collection of frozen, bagged groats behind him on a taut-line.
The Aurora moves away toward its meeting with the Westwind and Gemini Arbiter,
leaving the Bernoulli safe and sound in space behind it....
"We're out of here, aenrra," 'Vouf reports, firing the Aurora's thrusters
on a preprogrammed course toward the rendezvous with Westwind and Gemini
Arbiter as he peels off his suit helmet. "Let me know how the patient is."
- --------------------
R-alpha
- --------------------
Dark...
Dark...
RED!!!
PAIN..CRAMP!
Casey struggles to a sitting position and starts kneading the cramp
out of his leg. The red veil across his eyes turns pink and fades to
reveal a blast of green.
The cramp gone, Casey struggles to his feet, falls back to his knees
and pukes violently.
A few woozy moments later, he has unsteadily made his feet and is
taking stock. On the ground is a lumpy looking black duffle, beside
it an oversized leather flight bag, sealed from the atmosphere.
Like an old InfoCom(tm) game, the inventory rolls through Casey's
muddled mind;
There is a duffle here.
There is a leather flight bag here.
There is a vacc suit here.
A vacc suit? Yes. That's what I threw off when I tried to sit up.
So, where's the ship?
The vacc suit is a minimal model and looks old and worn. Casey thinks
he's had it for a while and then realizes he doesn't remember where or
when he got it. And how to use it (as anything other than a cover
against the night), is also a mystery to him!
What the hell is going on? I don't even know where I am!
Casey looks around the forest. Large green plants are broken
revealing the path from whence he came. Casey stumbles through the
plants arriving at a large scorched patch in the ground. Glancing
around, Casey can determine a 'bounce path' for several larger pieces
of metal debris, similar to the one at his feet.
Thirst gnaws at the back of his throat. His head is aching and he
starts to see the woods wheel around him. Casey crumples to the
forest floor.....
Thirst.....thirsty......."I'm thirsty"
The sun is bright and high when Casey cracks his eyes open.
I must have been out for only a few moments.
Struggling to his feet, Casey wobbles back to his luggage. A bit of
light steam rises from the moist ground.
The duffle's bottom is stuffed with some clothes and small packages.
There is room for the vacc suit, and so Casey stows it. Hefting the
flight bag is a pleasant surprise....not as heavy as it looks.
Casey slings the bag and dragging the duffle, starts to zigzag through
the undergrowth, heading down hill as best as his pounding head and
heaving stomach will allow.
- -----------
Paladin
- -----------
"Trrrrrrrrrrrrrrweeeerrrrrrrrrrrl? Vhy does anyone have trrrrrrouble
prrrrronouncing zat...?"
Aboard the Paladin, Dr. Morser looks about to see telltales flashing like
christmas tree lights all around the bridge.
"Gott im himmel!! Vat is zis, a convention or somesing?"
Shortly thereafter, the comm boards light up also, as everybeing and their
progenitor squawks about what a mess this is. 'Vouf's cursing about 'too
many coincedences stikes a familiar chord in the good doctor...
"Qvite so, mein freund. Herr Goughzar, if you vould be so kind as to put
us, how do you say, 'on ze deck'? Since ve haff no vay of knowing who zese
other ships really are, I believe ve should go ahead und rend.. rondo..rand-..
(I hate zose frrrench vords) link up mit ze shuttle from R-Alpha as qvickly
as pozzible. Und tank you for ze suggestion, Dr. Limner und I vill start
trying to enhance ze sensor data en route.
Frau Robins, can you giff me a tight-beam hail to ze R-Alphan shuttle? I
sink it is time ve intrrrduced ourselves, before anyvun else does it
for us, nicht war?"
With this, he turns to the computer console and links in with his own
wristcomp.
"Doctor Limner, caould you help me interpret zis data? It looks verry
interesting...verrrrrrry interrrrrresting..."
Charyn has put the commo scanner on the speaker-vid for the benefit of
all who had been interested in following the communications goings-on.
Most aboard the Paladin have the option to have audio and/or video of
the communications displayed at their work area.
Doctor Limner seems to be in a state of shock or something. Obviously
something has shaken him up.
(to Doctor Morser) "I'm sorry, Doctor. What was that? Oh, yes, sensors."
(to the Paladin computer) "PALADIN, please give me a tachyonic analysis.
If you are familiar with the tachyonic signature of psionic activity,
then configure the scan for optimal detection of such. Pay special
attention to the ships rising from the ring and the ring itself."
He then picks up one of his detectors, looks at it, and mumbles to
himself, "Completely overloaded. What have we gotten ourselves into this
time?" He then lets the instrument drop to the floor. Looking utterly
despondent, he almost drudgingly turns and plugs his wrist-comp into
one of his mass storage units (the kind you might find in a laboratory,
containing hundreds of holocrystals worth of information). He then types
a few commands into his wristcomp. Anyone looking over his shoulder would
see him select file "Psi Omega", which brings up a menu. After hesitating
over the item "trial", he selects "Rena", then "signatures". He then
begins downloading information into his wristcomp. Many messages flash on
his wristcomp display, such as "TELEKINESIS", "EMPATHIC PROJECTION: FEAR",
"PSYCHOPORTATION", etc.
Doctor Limner usually just seems absent-minded -- now he seems totally
oblivious to everyone around him. A death-like mask is on his face.
Eventually, his wristcomp finishes loading.
(to the Paladin computer) "PALADIN, compare tachyonic signature analysis
to all tachyonic signatures in unit LIMNER HC 1 and inform me of any
similarities."
Doctor Limner looks so pale, he seems almost ghost-like.
(to Doctor Morser) "Excuse me, Doctor. I seem to have a terrible
headache."
Doctor Limner then faints dead away.
....and with Zar and Charyn conferring on the latest set of course corrections,
and Morser studying his 'SwatchComp' wrist computer, it takes a moment to
notice the sudden silence...
"Vat vas you saying, mein fr- ACH! AUSGEFUCK!! Charyn! Ve need a medic, und
qvickly! Doctor Limner has fainted!"
Zar snaps around to watch as Dr. Limner falls to the floor with a thud.
As Dr. Morser turns and calls to Charyn, Zar stops and listens to the
information coming over the open comm channel.
"PALADIN, active maximum sensor scan on R-Alphan shuttle. Maintain scan and
aquisition passive sensor lock on Aslan ships. Do not active weapons turret.
Open internal frequency to Command Shuttle and begin transmitting live data
on all scans. Active scan of Aslan launch site and surrounding area for 5km."
Charyn wheels around, looking dumly at Morser, then a second later the
mental clutch engages and she drops to a crouch next to Limner. She
immediately leans over the body, announcing a checklist to no-one in
particular: "check breathing... breathing regular... check pulse...
pulse regular..."
Karl steps over himself and begins to check his fallen comrade out himself.
"I'm not a medical doctor, Frau, but if you need mein aziztance, I haff
limited skills in ze arrea...Oh, mein poor freund.."
Glancing about helplessly as Charyn takes over the examination, Morser spies
the viewplate of Limner's own computer, and wheels start to turn....
<Zar>
Charyn, if you need any help, I'm a class 1 medic.
Without looking up Charyn says in a commanding tone of voice, "Mister
Azani, please fetch the med kit from the bridge locker, and bring a some
blankets. Thanks!". She pauses an instant, then barks: "Now!" Azani
takes off like a well-oiled machine.
"Check for trauma... no visible trauma... looks a little pale... treat
for shock..." she mumbles. Charyn gets to her knees looks up at Zar,
"Zar! Help me get him on his back then you can get back to the commo
thanks....".
"Hmmm...you don't say...Paladin, continue upload uf Herr Limner's files
to ze main computer. Frau Robins, chust before he passed out, Doctor Limner
vas schtudying zome data on psionics on his computer...perhaps he is somehow
sensitive to ze natives below?"
Charyn squints and mumbles something like "...damn the psionics..."
Finishing his dialog with the computer and Charyn, Zar turns to the general
sensor panel and quickly glances over the files Dr. Limner uploaded and
executed.
"PALADIN, keep file PSI-OMEGA active and running through all ship's scans. Code
and identify any neural activity inside our ships and any close enough to be
within range. Cross correlate with both Active and Passive EMS and Densitometer
scans and relay information to Command Shuttle and Alcyon archives."
Zar finally turns his attention back to the pilots controls when the computer
speaks 'R-Alphan ship making high power manuevers to a new intercept course.'
Zar crouches back at the controls and increases the acceleration to meet the
R-Alphan shuttle, and watches at the Talisman and Alsan ships light up with
active weapons and sensors.
Limner does not appear to be hurt. Soon after Azani reaches him, he
starts to stir a little. He's very groggy, though. He seems to be
trying to say something, although his voice is very soft. It sounds
like "reene ya".
Azani arrives with the blankets. Azani and Charyn coordinate and get a
blanket under his raised feet and a blanket over top. "Scanner, let's
see...". She takes a somewhat helpless look at the scanner, spies a
power switch, and flicks it on, placing it on the doctor's chest.
"Uh-huh, okay for now."
"Doctor Limner, you just rest here for a couple minutes. I think you're
going to be fine. Azani, could you please watch the doctor? I'll go get
a gurney so we can make him more comfortable in a stateroom".
Limner is still groggy. As he's being dragged off to his stateroom, he
apologizes in a slurred voice:
"Slorry. I'm gnot husually like dis. I'll be fffine."
He exhales strongly a few times. Charyn worries for a second until she
realizes it is simply a semi-conscious laugh.
"Loong time ago. Long time. Shhhouldnn't lledt id get te me like dhis.
Oh, Rena..."
Suddenly, Limner realizes he is babbling and stops. He shakes his head
a bit and says:
"I'll be OK. I guess I just need to lie down for a few minutes. Don't
stop the program I started. Powerful psionics leave traces for a while.
We need to know what we're dealing with."
Limner lets himself be put to bed.
- --
Richard Johnson [email removed]
Sue Congress!