Sunday, February 27, 2011
She's Listing to Port, It's Every Man for Himself!
The Battlestar took a direct hit to the engine this afternoon just off the I15 main trading route just off the Provo Transpace Cluster. One moment all was well and the next an unsettling sound, followed by a thumping the likes of which have never been heard on this ship before. The engine was hit and failing fast. The ship cascaded out of hyperspace and cartwheeled in zero gravity. I luckily managed to coax the ship to a nearby Chevron Starbase. And there sat stranded far from the stars of home and surrounded by aliens calling themselves Provans. It was unsettling but I've faced worse. My years of training came to mind as I pondered by options.
I tried to look like I belonged. Being identified in Provo space as an alien has been known to be deadly. They are ones who do not take to 'outsiders' and my appearance all but screamed 'alien'. I began drawing attention. No matter how relaxed I looked I knew it wasn't often they saw a crippled Battlestar smelling ripe for the pickings.
In a matter of minutes I noticed one, then two then four were looking. I ordered a restart of the impulse drive, crossed myself, rubbed my lucky rabbit's foot and ordered 1/4 speed. The thumping grew louder then stabilized. The Battlestar maneuvered out of dock and entered the slower Geneva Trading Route.
It was ever so slow going but the old gal made it as far as the Central Port where she sits, a shadow of her former glory in a large empty lot. I left her there for the night, unable to get her up to home port. The climb would be too much for what once was an engine that could handle Warp 9 without breaking a sweat.
Tomorrow will be another day. The fleet mechanics will have their way with her and hopefully will have good news to report. If not, I'm afraid another ship will be joining the list of others that bravely went before to that great dry dock in the sky. Sigh......