Previous Next

SD241910.30 || PLOT LOG || "Out of the Frying Pan..."

Posted on 30 Oct 2019 @ 6:22pm by Captain Mallory Thorne

Mission: Tyr's Hand

=/\= Begin Log =/\=

It had been three days since the ship had been sucked in by that black star and cast across time and space to this hellhole moment in Earth's history...

It had been twenty-four hours since the chief science officer had finished her calculations and organized the plan with engineering, setting the wheels in motion to get them back home...

It had been eight hours since the captain had learned the true extent of how many of them wouldn't be getting home...

Mallory sat in the command chair on the bridge of the USS Odin. She wasn't sure when the last time she had slept was, but she wasn't about to fall asleep on the bridge like Bran had. To his credit, he had gotten back Malena's body. There were still several unaccounted for, but they would sadly remain unaccounted for now. They couldn't wait any longer. The ship and its crew had already been in this place and this time for three days too long.

They had to go back.

Sighing, she looked at the empty XO's chair beside her. Her eyes wandered to the chair on her other side that could be occupied by the ship's chief counselor, but now it sat empty as well. Tactical and ops were manned by junior officers, who had worked admirably to replace the sudden vacancies left by their superiors' untimely disappearance or death.

"We need to go home," she whispered to herself. Before we lose anyone else.

"Engineering reports that the ship is ready, Captain," Sabine said from her place up ahead.

"Open a ship-wide channel," Thorne said. Once that was done, she took a deep breath and began. "All hands, this is your captain speaking. We are about to attempt our slingshot maneuver to try to get home. Brace yourselves. I can't imagine this will be any less bumpy than our way here. Thorne out." She blew out a breath. "Lieutenant Beryl, set our course and our speed and engage." When she said the last word, she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer to the gods.

She could feel the ship began to move beneath her, heading toward Sol. But not their Sol...

Hold together... she silently pleaded as the battered vessel began to judder with each moment of increasing acceleration. The sun on the viewscreen grew larger until the screen glitched out and went dark.

It didn't seem too much longer before everything else went dark, too.

=/\= Unknown Time Later...

This was getting old.

Mallory pried her eyes open and looked around her sparking, smoking bridge. At least this time when she looked around, everyone who had been there when she was conscious before was still there now. She reached up and grabbed her chair, pulling herself up and listening to the symphony of groans from everyone else waking up and doing the same. Or most of them, at least. Some just groaned and remained where they were.

"Someone tell me what year it is," she rasped, leaning back in her seat.

"2419," Sabine replied after a moment. A muted cheer rose up around the bridge.

"Thank the gods," Mal whispered with a tired smile. "Lieutenant Sabine, status repor--"

The captain was interrupted by a chirping sound and the young man at tactical saying, "We're being hailed."

Mal chuckled weakly. "Must be the welcome wagon. Probably wanting to know where the hell we've been... On screen."

What she saw on the screen, however, didn't...quite...make...sense...

"This is General Stanton of the Terran Union of the Alliance of Worlds. Halt your vessel and tell us quickly what you are doing in Terran space."

"The...who?" Mallory stammered in a truly dignified fashion.

On the viewscreen was an imposing figure of a human woman with one clearly cybernetic eye that glowed red with no pretension of being "human looking." Her uniform was... There were elements that were almost familiar, but it was distinctly militaristic. Her expression was equally severe as her body language, standing on the bridge of a dark-lit ship with her arms folded across her chest as she waited for Mal's brain to catch up.

"Your vessel suddenly appeared on our sensors. We read a number of humans on your ship, but you are not known to the Terran Union. So. I repeat. Tell us quickly what you are doing in our space or we will be forced to open fire."

"We..." Mal faltered again, just blinking and feeling like an idiot. Maybe she was still unconscious and this was a strange dream. She reached down without looking and pinched her arm. It hurt like hell because she'd done it hard. So...probably not a dream. This wasn't their 2419, though. The Terran Union? Alliance of Worlds? And what the hell was that woman wearing! "We just shot through time," she went on, desperately trying to regain her mental footing.

This...general just arched a brow and then looked at something off-screen. After a moment, the other brow jumped up to join the first.

"Our sensors confirm an abnormal buildup of tachyon radiation and chroniton particles around and within your vessel, and we have penetrated your databanks, which further support your bizarre claim or present the most elaborate hoax in the history of the galaxy," General Stanton went on, turning back to look at Mal.

"You did what?!" Mal exclaimed angrily. She wasn't sure if she was angrier that this other ship had done it or that they'd been able to do it...

"You are an intruder on our space. What did you really expect?" Stanton sneered, shaking her head like a parent might when disappointed with their stupid child. "If you would like to continue preventing us from destroying you, you will follow us to our starbase. Once there, this will be discussed and investigated further while your crew remains on your ship."

"Are we under arrest?" Mal asked, shocked.

The general shrugged. "Basically," she said, "until we determine if you're a threat to us. Try to get away and that will be decided. Set the following course." She reached off-screen, and coordinates appeared on the ship's screen.

Mal thought fast, but only came to one conclusion. "Do as she says for the moment," she ordered, unwilling to give in any further.

Stanton nodded. Thorne nodded. The channel closed.

"How long until we reach this starbase?"

"Approximately one hour at the suggested speed," Beryl replied.

"Senior staff briefing in fifteen minutes," Mal ordered, then stormed off the bridge.

=/\= End Log =/\=

OOC: Okay. A joint log starter for most of the crew will be coming shortly. You can assume that bits of this information leaks through the ship so everyone else will end up knowing as well. There will be more coming about it all, obviously, but one thing at a time. If anyone wants to incapacitate or kill off a character during the slingshot, let me know. :P

 

Previous Next

labels_subscribe