Scene I: Unwelcome Reception

[Scarecrow71]

 

Captain's Log, Stardate 48239.95.  We left Earth with a new batch of Starfleet graduates, headed towards Narendra Station so the new Ensigns can make their way towards whatever commissions they've been assigned.  Some of the new recruits, of course, are assigned here, to the Firefly, but the vast majority are off elsewhere.  Unfortunately, our trip has taken a slight detour, thanks to a distress call coming from an uninhabited Class M planet, Xerxes IV.  Being the closest ship in the quadrant, Starfleet has ordered that we investigate and provide whatever assistance we can.

 

Ah, space.  The vastness of it can sometimes cause people to get lost in their own thoughts about what is out there, and how to get to all of those planets.  Even with the ability to travel at warp 9 and beyond, it would still take more than a thousand lifetimes to visit them all.  But you'll take any chance to visit any of them, getting to know the people and places that make the galaxy and universe tick.  And when you got the orders to form an away team to head to the surface of Xerxes IV, you had to all but contain yourself to not shout out that you wanted to go.  This is why you joined Starfleet, after all.

 

The USS Firefly has positioned itself in orbit above the Class M planet, some 250,000 meters above the atmosphere, and you've got an orbital period of some 28 hours.  Your commanding officers informed you that a distress call was received from the surface of the planet, but the only information you have is that there is a science team that was stationed on the planet and that they are in danger.  Your only orders are to go to the surface of the planet, find the science team, and then help them deal with whatever situation they have found themselves in, up to and including bringing them back the Firefly.

 

Due to an inability for the ship to lock onto the location the science team is supposed to be at, you find yourselves arriving in one of the large shuttle bays of the ship, several Runabouts being worked on by multiple people.  One of the Runabouts is being prepped for your journey to the surface, with several enlisted men and women making sure she has enough fuel, and supplies, and that the electronics work and such.  All the normal pre-boarding checks are being taken care of so that you need only worry about the pre-flight checks once you get aboard.

 

Shuttle Command CrewThe Runabout's cockpit has space for only 2 people - one at the Conn, and one at Ops. The rest of you will be passengers in the shuttle on your way down to the surface. It is up to you to determine who among you sits where.

 

Edited June 17, 2022 by Scarecrow71 (see edit history)

[moarhair]

T'Mirras had been surprised when the Captain had so readily agreed to let the newly-minted Ensigns take on the away mission by themselves, but she wasn't going to be the one to give him a reason to reconsider. As she stands with the others, getting ready to board the Runabout, she can't help but feel a touch of trepidation. This would be her first away mission as an officer, and her first since the one that had cost her her arm as cadet. Reflexively, she closes her artificial hand into a fist.

 

The young Vulcan glances at her colleagues. Two other Vulcans (she groaned internally), a human, an Orion, and a Grazerite. She hadn't had much time to get to know them. They hadn't been classmates, as her graduation had been delayed due to her injury. Throughout most of her time at the Academy, they would have been a year behind her. She also hadn't seized the opportunity to socialize with them on the Firefly, seeing as they were all heading, ultimately, to different destinations.

 

The first hurdle was deciding who would sit in the shuttle's cockpit. The whole away team was all of equal rank, so there was no chain of command to make things easy. Well, unless someone stepped up.

 

"Let's start by sharing our names and departmental assignments. I will go first: I am Ensign T'Mirras, Security. If we have a conn officer and an operations officer among us, then determining the shuttle's command crew will be trivial. If not, then I can take the conn. I am a capable pilot."

Edited June 18, 2022 by moarhair
added color to dialogue (see edit history)

[ihinka]

KOTHO
Control10	Fitness9	Presence10
Daring9	Insight9	Reason9
Command4	Security3	Science1
Conn4	Engineering3	Medicine1
STRESS: 12

Sometimes Kotho still couldn't believe the turn her life had taken. After spending the last thirty years as her mother's slave and dirty little secret, the years following her rescue from the Orion Syndicate had seem almost like a dream. Reuniting with her fraternal grandfather. Becoming a Federation citizen. Enrolling in Starfleet. Graduating. Her first commission. All of it felt like something right out of a dream. So much so that Kotho still feared she might wake up at any moment and find herself back with her mother on that loathed Syndicate starship. Of course, she knew none of this was a dream. But she still had that wanderlust look about her. As if everything was new and exciting and so very precious and fragile.

 

But at the same time her eyes betrayed her years and life experience. Going through Starfleet at thirty-something was hard enough. Being a thirty-something ensign wasn't gonna be any easier. As an officer in Starfleet, she was inexperienced. But as a person, she'd lived through a world of sorrow and hurt. Enough to color one's view of life. One might say, Kotho was a cocktail of contradictions. As she approached the rest of the away team, Kotho nervously smoothed down her onepiece uniform. The one not really prone to forming creases. She couldn't help but feel a tad naked in the form-fitting outfit. Her body had blossomed under a proper nutrition and she'd put on a fair amount of lean muscle during her time in the Academy. But her grandfather had been so proud when he'd seen her in the onepiece for the first time, Kotho had swallowed her anxiety.

 

She tried to do the same now as she answered T'Mirras.

 

"Kotho, Conn. I don't mind letting someone else drive. But if no one is particularly bucking for it, I'm your huckleberry." Kotho had managed to pick up a number of idioms from her grandfather. That particular one was one of his favorites. Her eyes scanned the faces of the members of the away team. Almost as if trying to determine what sort of people she was dealing with.

Edited June 18, 2022 by ihinka (see edit history)

[Roughtrade]

"Operations."  Said one of the other Vulcanoid woman.  "A'kora."

 

Of average height and build, the Operations Ensign let one corner of her mouth quirk upwards in a hint at a smile when the green woman spoke up.  "I believe Ensign Kotho is capable of piloting, unless there was a second Orion at the Academy of which I am unaware.  She consistently scored high marks in navigation and has significantly more recorded flight hours than most of us."

 

 

 

 

---

OOC

Making a slight assumption that someone with Conn 4 while the rest of us are at Conn 2 or 3 would have had noticeably better grades at the Academy.  

 

 

 

[Maester1216]

Vaaro-Hesk took in the sights and sounds of the shuttlebay aboard the Firefly upon his arrival. It wasn't his first starship to be sure, but even after four years at the academy he could probably name the ships he'd travelled on on two-hands. It was all still so new and exciting for the young Grazerite, who'd spent the better part of his life surrounded by georgic idyll rather than the glitz and glamour commonplace on Federation worlds. "My stars, it's all so much. And this is one of Starfleet's older classes if memory serves; gotta wonder how much trouble roaming 'cross a Nebula-Class like the Nightingale is gonna be." Now now he thought, being a crepehanger never helped anybody. As great-aunt Siroth always used to say 'Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.' He just needed to be patient and keep an open-mind, and pretty soon it'd be like he'd been part of Starfleet all his life.

 

Adjusting the cuffs on his uniform impassively, Hesk was drawn out of his musings by the voices of the others. A few faces he remembered from the Academy, some less so. But whatever their degree of association Hesk spoke and acted like he'd known them for years, a trait common to his highly communal and sociable species. "Howdie y'all, name's Vaaro-Hesk. I run with Starfleet Medical as an Anaesthesiologist, and truth be told weren't more than average when it came to flight sim training. Lucky for us we've got some Ops and Conn folk in the mix here, so I can certainly set with Kotho and A'Kora takin' us out." Hesk's drawl and ranchero countenance were tell-tale signs of a life spent on the frontier for the others.

 

Suddenly remembering he hadn't double-checked his medkit in a while, Hesk leans down and begins rummaging through it to make sure everything's there. He rubs at the filled down stubs where his horns used to be in a motion not too dissimilar to a Human running their hands through their hair. "Tarnation. Thought I'd have more time for this, but helping Ephraim get the Dylovene sorted took more time than I hoped. Eh, better to learn that now rather than later."

[hailofsilicon]

"Ensign Karin Sorenstam, communications officer," the human replies, nodding to the others on the shuttle. "I'm certainly content with the proposed arrangement. I wouldn't mind keeping an ear out if we make contact with the science team, perhaps we can figure out what caused the distress signal." She adjusts the cuffs of her uniform, looking around at the assembled group. With three Vulcans in the group, she suspected that this mission would be running on a very hierarchical basis. Logic before anything, which was...a choice. At least she knew how to reason her emotions out, she'd had plenty of experience with that growing up.

[RillaTaj]

 

"I am Ensign T'kres of Engineering. I am content to remain a passenger. It is my hope that my particular skill set will not be required until we reach the ground." T'kres was not content with this whole situation. Too little information and too sudden a change to her plans made the Vulcan unsettled, little though her demeanor may show it. No matter. She would adapt. She saw no need to contest A'kora's place as Ops officer- they both may have been in the Engineering track, but had slightly different specialties.

Edited June 19, 2022 by RillaTaj (see edit history)

[Scarecrow71]

You climb into the Runabout, talking about yourselves and making the usual introductions to each other during the pre-flight checks.  Once you gain clearance, you leave the relative safety of the Firefly and head towards the surface of the planet, aiming for the spot you have been told is where the science team's distress signal came from.

 

The flight from space to the atmosphere is pretty easy.  You end up having to adjust course slightly, your speed coming out of the Firefly combined with its orbital speed forcing the small correction, but you are able to enter the atmosphere with relative ease.  However, nature is a fickle mother, and she sometimes gets angry for no reason at all.  As you are descending to the surface, a massive ion storm breaks out, and it begins to shake the Runabout and toss the lot of you around inside it as if you were rocks in a tin can.  Your navigation system quickly fails under the heavy barrage of electricity, and multiple warning lights begin to flash, turning the interior of the Runabout into a red and yellow mess.

 

MechanicsI need one of the two people playing Command Crew to provide a Control + Conn roll at a target difficulty of 2.

Threat: 12
Momentum: 0

[moarhair]

T'Mirras raises an eyebrow when she sees A'Kora give the barest hint of a smile and hears T'kres use the word "hope". Both of these outbursts would have been frowned upon on Vulcan. She suppresses the urge to curl up the corner of her mouth in reciprocity. She had made the mistake of going out on a limb before. The consequences had been severe.

 

Instead, she lowers her eyebrow and nods. "Then it is settled. Ensigns Kotho and A'Kora will be our flight crew. As the only security officer, I will take point once we have landed."

 

Inside the shuttle, T'Mirras takes the seat closest to the door. 

 

***

 

T'Mirras brings her artificial arm up to shield her head as she is thrown against the bulkhead by the shuttle's bucking. She looks around her with wide eyes. The lights, the warning sirens, the crew's surprised cries... It's happening again! Her heart is beating at a breakneck pace in her abdomen, her throat tightens, and she feels a chill go down her spine. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths.

 

She opens her eyes. "Brace yourselves!" she yells over the din as the shuttle is shaken again by an ion discharge.

[Roughtrade]

"Then it is settled. Ensigns Kotho and A'Kora will be our flight crew. As the only security officer, I will take point once we have landed."

"It sounds like you haven taken point in all things."  Running an efficient pre-flight check, A'Kora couldn't help but give T'Mirras a wink.  

---

As the shuttle descends, A'Kora settles into her seat beside Kotho and monitors their entry into the atmosphere.

 

"I would suggest we make a pass over the site before landing."  She states.  "The main cause for loss of communications on an outpost or investigative scouting mission is damaged equipment with inadequate stores or technical skill to make repairs.  Caution is still advised, but as humans say, hope for the best but plan for the worst."

 

She pauses, and turns to Vaaro-Hesk.  "The second most likely cause of emergency for isolated missions is biological hazards.  As you are more familiar with safety procedures it may well be that you will be taking point once we have landed."

---

Moments later

"Ensign Kotho."  A'Kora tilted her head and adjusted the scanners.  "I am detecting a rapid decline neutron emissions commiserate with impending ionic disturbance.  It is my strong suggestion that all hands secure themselves, I do not believe we will be able to avoid it."

 

As the runabout began to rattle and bounce, A'Kora provided what support she could to the helm, but when the power surge flatlined the navigational controls there was little do to but hold on and amend her earlier suggestion. "I have reconsidered my previous position.  Mister Kotho, if you could land us as expediently as possible, I am certain your skills are adequate to the task."

 

Bracing herself against the console, A'Kora looked about and was relieved to find there were no fires.  The flash of odd light reflecting off of T'Mirras' hand caught her eye.  Cybernetic?  Unusual.  She seemed rather young for a war wound, there was a story there.  Never one to take much interest in socializing with other cadets, A'kora had not noticed it before. Medical advances being what they were, most injuries which did not outright kill someone were fully recoverable.  Though her medical training had been years prior to Starfleet, A'kora found herself curious about how it was integrated into her biological systems. 

---

Tumbling as the runabout spun in what she could only assume was a barrel roll, A'kora was barely able to keep hold of her console.  Inertial compensators were failing and as she fought to remain upright she thought she detected a shift in her center of mass.  It was possible the gravity converters had failed.  

 

"I have lost sensor readings entirely.  Before they failed...  Ensign Kotho, did you see the scan?  I believe there was a shallow lake.  Vector six, six to starboard!"

 

---

OOC 

If I recall from "Wrath of Khan", Starfleet uses "Mr" as an address for officers independent of sex. 

Considering alien species might be asexual or polysexual, this makes sense to me. 

 

Time to make some rolls and see if it sparks any more writing for me. 

Though now that I look, I am finding it odd to see the dice roller thing isn't accessible while in editing mode. 

So I am going to have to post, and then roll the dice.  

 

Well, that is a 20 and a 13.  So a utter fail and a barely made it.  I think I created a complication.

Unless you allow Damage Control to count in this situation, no Focuses available

Leaning into the Value of "Asking for Help Shows Weakness" in the final edit which I am working on now. 

 

Gah!  Swear to Mog I had something more written....  I hit some button wrong.

Editing Complete.

 

Okay.  I have seen everything I wanted to say posted.  Now it's complete.  yeesh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[ihinka]

KOTHO
Control10	Fitness9	Presence10
Daring9	Insight9	Reason9
Command4	Security3	Science1
Conn4	Engineering3	Medicine1
STRESS: 12

A'Kora's assessment of her skills was not far off from the truth. Piloting was something Kotho had confidence in. Not only because she'd found out she had a knack for it after enrolling in the Academy. It was also her and her grandfather's favorite bonding activity. They would fly anything they could get their hands on. In atmosphere, in space. Taking off, landing, maneuvering. All of it. If it was within safety and regulations, they'd do it. And for Kotho, who'd grown up having literally no control over her life, it was the ultimate feeling. The challenge and responsibility of it gave her a sense of purpose meaning.

 

So after all the pre-flight checks were done and the crew boarded the runabout Kotho took her place at the helm. Immediately she felt at peace and any anxiety she might have felt from being an out-of-place thirty-something ensign, vanished.

 

The space flight to the planet had been a piece of cake. With minor routine adjustments she could do in her sleep. Things, however, went tits up soon after the runabout hit atmosphere. A'Kora's warning, as well-intended as it was, still wouldn't have made any difference. When an ion storm decides to drop in on you, there was no going around it. The only thing you could do was sail through it the best way you could and pray you came out in one piece on the other side of it.

 

"Yeah, there's no avoiding this." Kotho growled a response to A'Kora. "I'd suggest you listen to T'Mirras and hold on, everybody! It's gonna be a wild ride, but I'll do my very best to deposit us all on the surface in one piece." Kotho worked the controls frantically. With navigation down she was forced to pilot on instinct, last recorded references and any visual ones as well. Not an ideal situation by a long shot. But, hey, if it was easy anyone would do it, right?! Kotho glanced at A'Kora, her lips pulled in a predatory grin. "Kinda gives a new meaning to the 'flies by the seat of one's pants' idiom, doesn't it?! No navigation. No visibility. Just the bearings we recorded before the storm hit. Guess grandpa was right when he said Starfleet will test me in ways my life so far hasn't." Kotho kept working the controls tirelessly as she conversed with A'Kora almost as if they were flying in blue, sunny skies on the way down to their destination.

[Scarecrow71]

A'kora tries to use the sensors to warn of the impending danger, but the sensors were way off, and the Runabout ends up getting hit with the ion storm well before A'kora thought they would.  This ends up causing multiple system failures, not the least of which is the landing gear being shorn completely off, as well as the shields being entirely shut down.  There is massive damage to the internal wiring of the control panel where A'kora sits, and his side of the cockpit looks like it has seen the inside of a sun on the verge of going supernova.

 

Despite the sensor and system failures, Kotho is able to keep the ship mostly stable and on course to crash land near the lake A'kora pointed out.  The landing is hard, and the Runabout is hit with multiple ion blasts on the way down, but the ship does eventually hit land.  Not water, but land; the last ion blast pushed you off course by a few kilometers, and the ship bounces hard off several rocky outcroppings and through a small forest of trees before skidding to a stop.  When you get your wits about you, you can see that nobody is hurt other than a minor bruise here or there, but the power in the Runabout is out and you are left in near darkness waiting for your eyes to adjust.

 

MechanicsComplication: While there may be other repairs that have to be done (you will need to check the ship for that), the Runabout is grounded until A'kora can get the sensor package up and running. Because it was his error on timing, only he knows the calculations to fix it once power is restored. And he must do this without assistance. No change to difficulty (2), and it will be a Reason + Engineering roll when the time comes.

Threat: 12

Momentum: 0

[Maester1216]

Satisfied that everything was in order with the contents of his Medkit, Hesk takes his place in the runabout in eager anticipation. "My first away mission... stars, I never expected they'd ever send me on an away mission! I imagine this is a test to see if we're cut out for life aboard a starship more than anything, so that's all the more reason for us to make sure this goes off without a hitch." Hesk would be pleased as punch wherever Starfleet sent him to be sure, whether it was a planet-side hospital or a deep space research station, but right now his superiors needed a measure of how those Academy test scores would translate to work in the field. "Life might not be under any obligation to give us what we expect, but that don't mean we shouldn't be. Starfleet wants to see what we can do? They'll see that and then some."

 

Hesk's confidence was high as the runabout made its way down to the surface of Xerxes IV, chatting and joking amicably. The ion storm the team finds themselves in sets that confidence to wavering however as the Ensign steadies himself against the ship's rocking, finally giving way along with his balance as the runabout finds itself in what can only be described as a controlled free-fall. "Crimany! We'll be chewing more 'an gravel at this speed!" Grabbing onto the first thing he could as the team's being thrashed about, Vaaro-Hesk took T'Mirras' advice and braced himself for the oncoming impact.

 

When the dust from the crash had settled and Hesk had managed to shake-off the worst of his daze he finally spoke up. "Alrighty sound off, whose not dead?" Feeling about for his medkit in the dark as his eyes adjusted to the pitch-black of the runabout interior, once he finds what he's looking for Hesk makes a circuit of the team to check everyone's condition; sure everyone looked fine, but what kind of medical officer would he be to take things at face value? Only once everyone had passed muster did he start taking stock of the situation they were in, eyeing the runabout's interior while stroking the beard-like appendage on his chin. "Ship's baked, that much even I can tell. Don't doubt y'all can put somethin' together to get it flight worthy, but that's time we could be using getting to the research outpost... wherever that might be." He turns his attention to Kotho and A'Kora. "Don't suppose either of you remember the Nav data off-hand? Elsewise we might need to try to spy things out the old-fashioned way. Maybe split up so the ship can be worked on to."

[moarhair]

T'Mirras curls up and uses her arms to shield her head an neck. She hears the roar of the air outside the hull as the runabout hurtles down towards the ground, and shakes her head. Two shuttle crashes in a row. Could it be a record? Surely not. Two seems like too low a number to be a record. In the infinite possibilities of the universe, someone had to have had it worse. She would have to look it up if she survives to see how many more she'd need to beat it. Maybe she'll get lucky and lose her other arm on this mission. Now, that would surely be a record. She can't help but grin at thought.

 

Then, the shuttle hits the ground, and everything goes dark. 

 

***

 

Sound, first. The stirring of bodies. Steps. A deep voice with a drawl. Dr. Hesk. He's asking something, but T'Mirras can't make out what.

Taste, second. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth.

Smell is next. It picks up the blood as well. There's also an acrid scent: the smell of the overheated circuitry and panels.

T'Mirras tries to move and feels a sharp jab of pain. Ah, touch. Nice of you to join us.

The young Vulcan opens her eyes.

 

The runabout's interior was pitched in darkness. She can make out Dr. Hesk's shape. He turns on a light. T'Mirras flinches and squints. As the Grazerite begins doing his round, checking up on the crew, she begins a self-assessment. She moves her toes and fingers, then her wrists and ankles. She keeps moving, getting closer to her torso. She saves her neck and head for last, in case she has a concussion. By the time the good doctor gets to her, she has come to the conclusion that she has only suffered minor cuts and bruises.

 

"I appear to have survived largely unscathed. Again," she tells Dr. Hesk as she sits up. She wipes her face with her left hand. In the light cast by the doctor's flashlight, she can see it comes away green, wet with blood. She waits patiently as the doctor scans her and closes her lacerations with his dermal regenerator. "Thank you."

 

T'Mirras stands, a bit unsteadily at first, but a deep breath and a second spent on her feet settle down her sense of balance. "Dr. Hesk is correct. We should divide our efforts," she says as she checks her phaser and tricorder. "Ensigns A'Kora, Kotho, and T'Kres will ascertain the runabout's condition while Dr. Hesk, Ensign Sorenstam, and I will reconnoiter our surroundings." She makes her way to the hatch and activates the manual release.

[Roughtrade]

For a moment, A'kora was content to sit in her chair at the navigation station and breathe.  Nothing felt broken, though she had bitten her lip somewhere along the line.  Green blood dripped down the side of her chin, probably quite ghastly looking if there had been lights.  Idly she notes that her hands and forearms have been scorched and the cuff of her uniform as well, but no blisters despite the electrical eruption at her station.  She closed her eyes.

 

In her mind, A'Kora reviews the runabout's descent and criticizes her performance. Everyone should have been strapped in the moment atmosphere had been entered. She should have ordered it, the pilot was busy.  Sensor scan and confirmation of their destination should have been locked down sooner.  Now they not only didn't know where they were, even if they had a proper location on their crash site, they didn't know where they were supposed to be going.  A communication signal should have been sent back to the Firefly as soon as the ion storm had been encountered.  Yes, the ship likely was monitoring their situation but gambling on 'likely' was how people died.  She should have tried variance matching the runabout shielding to the ionic disturbance, it could have protected the ship better.  So many things she had failed at.

 

Of course, in her self critique, she did not consider that it would have been impossible for one person to have done all those things.  Maybe not one human, but Vulcans were supposed to be capable of multitasking.  And Romulans were better than either.  A'Kora has survived slavery, plague and the Vulcan educational system.  Certainly a little ion storm was nothing by comparison.  

 

"Yes, of course." A'Kora opens her eyes and comments at the suggestion from T'Mirras.  "Let us split up.  That is standard procedure when an away team has survived a catastrophic landing."

 

"Ensign A'Kora to Firefly."  She activates (or attempts to) her communicator.  "I say again, Ensign A'kora to Firefly, do you copy?  We have encountered an ion storm and were forced to engage in an emergency, non-powered, descent and landing.  No personnel casualties.  Assessment of runabout in progress."

 

 

---

OOC

"and his her side of the cockpit looks like it has seen the inside of a sun on the verge of going supernova."

I am feeling kind'a lucky to have gotten off unscathed.  First Degree "sunburn level" superficial wounding seems appropriate and gives our medical person something to do if he can convince her to accept help.

 

A'Kora is attempting to contact the ship.  Her player is expecting that the ionic interference will make that unlikely to succeed.  

 

---

I pose A'Kora as acerbic and sarcastic in nature.  This is almost always intended to be used as a role play foil or (as in this case) when she is feeling defensive because of what she perceives as a personal failing.  If ever it makes anyone uncomfortable, please say something.  I was running a game once where a player was taking a sort of 'Drill Sergeant' shtick which most of us found very entertaining.  However it turned out one of my Players was not ex-military and really didn't get the concept well and it caused bad feelings and a departure.