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Shex

We're not on Braxis Anymore (FT?, OPEN)

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In the once hallowed corridors of a Brosome Colony Vessel, an alarm continued to blare.

 

WARNING:  DESCENT EXCESSIVELY RAPID.  PROTECTIVE MEASURES DEPLOYED IN CRYO CHAMBER.  WARNING-

 

On the bridge there sat a single officer.  The rest of the crew had long-since resorted to Cryo Sleep as no one knew how long this trip would last.  When they first approached this universe, the rift behind them abruptly collapsed.  So much for interuniversal exploration.

 

For the moment, they were trapped.  But that was fine.  The ship had enough life support and supplies to last for years and the 100,000 colonists on board had received fair warning (and numerous liability waivers) to keep everyone safe and happy.

 

But the pilot was particularly calm that day.  As he downed his fifth beer, he somehow failed to set the ship on autopilot.

 

So a kilometer long vessel came hurling through space at speeds thousands of times the speed of light, heading straight for the planet known as Orbis.

 

Thankfully, automated systems long since anticipated the folly of men.  Retrorockets started to kick in as the ship came hurling through the clouds.

 

Twisting and turning in the planet's atmosphere, the starship underwent a forceful landing...

 

Somewhere in the middle of the Arabian Desert.

 

*********************

No distress signal was necessary this time around.  The ship didn't crash land and could take off, if only a tad low on fuel.

 

As the crew slowly emerged from their slowly cooling vessel, the locals could clearly see some enormous streak in the sky and many came running.  These curious bipeds, when acknowledging that the visitors from the sky weren't going to hurt them, starting showing off their wares.

 

BPS Aphrodite's Caress. Bridge

 

The Captain was unamused.

 

"What do you mean there are no resources of use?"

"Sir, it appears that we are in the middle of a desert.  First Contact with the locals, who amount to little more than villagers, is promising but the wares they are offering us resemble fairly cheap and primitive goods from the human's 21st century.  We're fairly certain that these locals are human themselves, and thankfully our humanoid crewmembers were the ones who made first contact."

"Well, the Androsynth are pretty much human at least.  We...  Don't tell me, we didn't-"

"No Advent were on the away team, sir."

"Good.  The last thing we need is a hundred villagers charging at us with pitchforks because several of our people have glowing eyes."

"Still, we lack the necessary resources to refine fuel for the Aphrodite's Caress.  Our only hope is to make do with what we can scavenge around here.  We should save power by shutting off all non-life support related functions, and for the time being our ship is just a glorified hunk of metal.  What resources we can save, we should save."

"By the Gods!  We'd be penniless, strangely clothed savages.  Like from that Fun-Rom you kept showing the rest of the crew.  What was it called?"

"Mad Max, sir?"

"Exactly!  We'd be little better than a legion of cloth-wearing, metal flailing raiders from Mad Max, complete with derelict-looking metal fortress!  Please tell me we have good news, Commander!"

"Captain, we've been stranded here for the time being.  Let's make the most of it.  Let us swallow our pride and hide our more exotic-looking people from the human's prying eyes.  If a single one of our friendly-neighborhood demon-aliens are spotted, then they're going to kill us."

"We brought enough battery packs for the pulse and laser rifles, please tell me we br-"

"I'd rather save them until the last minute, sir."

"God help me...  The sooner we can get off this rock, the better."

(I eagerly await your responses.)

Edited by Shex

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Well written!

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BPS Aphrodite's Caress, Meeting Room B

 

Within the great Arabian Desert, a single starship sat.

 

In that starship's dimly lit halls, a conference was held.

 

"So it looks like we're unable to strip mine this place."  The Chief Engineer grumbled at the assembly.

 

"Are you serious?  There are no lanthanides to be found?  No radioactives?"  The Captain groaned.

 

"Well, sir, we've been able to mine some uranium, but you know how ineffective that is."

"Such a small amount of Uranium would barely get us three lightyears away at best.  Sure, this 'Orbis' looks a lot like Sol and scanners did find nearby stars resembling Alpha Centauri during our approach, but do we want to take that risk?  There are no fuel stations, no semblance of civilizations of compatible tech anywhere near here.  If we're running on fumes with uranium of all things I'd much rather have us take an acceptable risk.  If we ended up on a planet like Mercury..."  The Tactical Officer heaved a deep sigh.

 

"Hey, at least we can breathe here..."  The Chief Engineer let out a light chuckle.

 

"We may have to call Arcadia and Neo Lanzhou home.  We might not ever see the surface of Braxis again."  The Tactical Officer continued.

There was a mix of cheers and cries of despair, ranging from "GREAT!  THAT PLACE WAS &*%! COLD" to "TRAPPED ON A PRIMITIVE WORLD?!  WHY US?!"

 

"Our homes, our families, even the comforts of our technology might be lost to us..."

"Commander!"  The Captain rose from his chair.  "I will not have you maintain this pessimism.  As my Tactical Officer your words are key for morale, but if you insist upon this sort of talk, how do you expect our people to endure?"

"We must face the facts, sir.  The rift was closed and Command might not even know we're here."

 

"My staff have been analyzing the knick knacks the locals have managed to sell us.  We have also activated our translation algorithms.  Sir, these people..."  The Chief Engineer began to swallow audibly.

 

"What is it?"

"I have reason to believe that they follow a certain irrational ideology.  One that may advocate the destruction of foreign entities."

 

"And you only mention this now?"

"Well, morale, sir..."

"How many battery packs did we bring, Tactical?"

"Enough to eliminate a regiment of them, I'd bet.  But if they brought their entire army against us, we might get overrun."

"And we call them primitive?""

"Doesn't mean they aren't a threat."

"So we're sitting ducks and the materials we can refine wouldn't get us very far.  Any good news?"

 

The Chief Engineer was quick to answer.

"Some of the natives were extremely generous, sir.  Through their arms traders we managed to acquire a few platoons of light tanks.  They still run on gasoline of all things but they are functional..."

"Gasoline?!  I do not want those fumes on my ship.  Can our engineers install fusion reac-"

"We have barely enough power as it is.  Dismantling and redesigning these tanks is a waste of time and resources, sir."

 

"We are doomed, DOOMED!  We must make do with what we have.  If they offer these gas guzzling tanks and fail to understand the secrets of nuclear fusion, then we must adapt to live here.  When in Rome-"

 

The Captain glared at his Tactical Officer.  "What has become of you all?  We are explorers, travelers; it is in our blood.  We may have violated Protocol 4, and have established contact with a civilization with vastly obsolete technology that seems to have no interest in sharing our technology, but we will survive.  We have been separated from our homeworlds and universes before.  How is this scenario any different?  Let us endure these times, and develop the fuel we need to return home."

 

"Assuming they don't come after us first."  The Tactical Officer and Chief Engineer muttered simultaneously.

 

"I say we activate a distress signal.  You're assuming that the locals can even read it.  There are whispers among them that some other 'Giants from space' have descended upon this world.  They just might recognize us."  The Helmsman crossed his arms.

 

"That kind of arrogance could prove our undoing."  The Captain snapped.

 

"...  And your enthusiasm might be worse, sir."

 

Accusations flew amongst the senior officers.  Could they survive in this strange land?  Would it be wise to call for help?  For now, Arcadia Colony would have to endure.  Would Fate prove kind, or would greater threats loom just over the horizon?

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OOC:  Because no one's been responding.

 

IC:

 

BPS Aphrodite's Caress, Bridge

 

The Communication Post on the Bridge was awash with activity.

 

"What do you mean you're trapped in the middle of nowhere?!"

 

"Command."  The Communications Officer sighed.  "Our pilot was irresponsible, and was drunk when everyone else went into Cryo-Hibernation.  He failed to implement automated procedures, and unfortunately we had no Mmrnmhrm crewmen active at that time.  Requesting court martial for the pilot-"

"Request granted.  You're lucky that we managed to establish a stable rift to this Universe.  Explorer groups rarely overlap their assignments but you hadn't reported in in a while and we were trying to figure out where 100,000 people and a Seedship went.  How are you faring?"

"We require resources, Command, but it sounds like we aren't getting any additional personnel."

"Indeed!  However, your location is helpful as a foothold.  We will not create an official Interuniversal Gate, but several Gate Dreadnoughts will be keyed in to the location of your universe, and a stable rift will be maintained.  Perhaps other local powers will find a miniaturized Gate in your PW 843 'verse, but we doubt they could send a battlefleet through it."

 

"We understand."

 

"We're sending the first supply convoy now.  Along with fighters to escort it.  We know there isn't much you can do on your end at the moment, but be sure to prevent any interception as best you can."

"Roger that."

 

"And once that convoy lands, I want that pos pilot to be locked up on one of the transports.  I can't believe one of our officers would doom so many colonists to such a fate."

"Neither can we."

 

"Let it be known:  Arcadia colony has been established.  Do what you can at the moment, but other than fighters, fuel, ammo, and light artillery there isn't much else to send at this time."

"Of course, sir."  The Communications Officer sighed softly as the transmission was cut.

 

"Oh sure, so Bootis Colony gets a Starbase, a garrison of starships, and a bunch of colonists but we barely get more than the stuff on our backs..."  The Helmsman groaned.

 

"They did plan out Bootis Colony from the start, Ensign.  We just happened to land here forcefully.  No one intended for that."  The Captain shook his head.

 

"Those fighters will come in handy, though, although I believe we should utilize native vehicles whenever possible and keep our own resources as a reserve.  In the event we are invaded, and they want to try to kill us all, we can deploy our actual units.  Until then small raids and skirmishes should allow our people to train themselves with native equipment.  Can't hurt."  The Tactical Officer shrugged.

 

At this the Captain's face brightened.

 

"Hey, why don't you ask for an Emissary-class Diplomatic Cruiser while we're at it?  We could use two capital ships, and that Emissary could also deploy diplomatic shuttles to certain events in this 'verse.  If we're to represent the Brotherhood in this place, we might as well make a good impression!"

 

OOC:  New Trade Good Unlocked, Uranium!

Edited by Shex

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