Ereza
Velaeri Mortaine
It was happening more frequently now; the headaches, the blackouts, memory loss. Falling asleep in a warm, familiar place and waking up in a bleak and cold unknown.
Eve Foundation
ATTN: D.R.O. Larue
Mission: Moddell Sector Zelta
A small GUIDE outpost planet named Ichor on the outskirts of the sector has issued an SOS. Unusual solar radiation has effected the electronics necessary to keep the GUIDE outpost operational. Radioactive levels are critical and GUIDE underground generators are nearly out of fuel. Make several fuel container and life support drops but DO NOT land. You have two weeks before their fuel supply runs out.
Panathan Space
4 Hours Later
"This is Operative Larue reporting from the E.F. Simpra, my ship is damaged and leaking fuel. Requesting immediate retrieval at coordinates 10 42 17 Z. I have an injured co-pilot in need of immediate medical assistance. I repeat, this is Operative Larue reporting from the E.F. Simpra ... "
[member="Darth Carnifex"]
"Larue, Larue wake up!"
Heart in her throat, Imka awoke with a start to the smell of smoke clogging her lungs and the sensation of a tornado surrounding her. A man hovered over her, recognizable in his Eve Foundation uniform despite the plumes filling the cabin.
"What's going on?!"
"Get your breather on, we have a breach in the hull!"
"Where are we?!"
"Larue, gorramnit, put your breather on!"
She felt the plastic of the breather slip over her face, fumbling to create the proper suction as the man yanked her out of her seat. Imka stumbled after him, ducking through sparks and leaning against the pull of a ship spinning through space out of control. The lights flickered once, twice, then died. Weightlessness took them. She spotted the tailings of stars twisting in an arch through a nearby viewport. Now she remembered.
Heart in her throat, Imka awoke with a start to the smell of smoke clogging her lungs and the sensation of a tornado surrounding her. A man hovered over her, recognizable in his Eve Foundation uniform despite the plumes filling the cabin.
"What's going on?!"
"Get your breather on, we have a breach in the hull!"
"Where are we?!"
"Larue, gorramnit, put your breather on!"
She felt the plastic of the breather slip over her face, fumbling to create the proper suction as the man yanked her out of her seat. Imka stumbled after him, ducking through sparks and leaning against the pull of a ship spinning through space out of control. The lights flickered once, twice, then died. Weightlessness took them. She spotted the tailings of stars twisting in an arch through a nearby viewport. Now she remembered.
Eve Foundation
ATTN: D.R.O. Larue
Mission: Moddell Sector Zelta
A small GUIDE outpost planet named Ichor on the outskirts of the sector has issued an SOS. Unusual solar radiation has effected the electronics necessary to keep the GUIDE outpost operational. Radioactive levels are critical and GUIDE underground generators are nearly out of fuel. Make several fuel container and life support drops but DO NOT land. You have two weeks before their fuel supply runs out.
"Gibbs! Gibbs what's happened?!"
"What's happened? I'll tell you what's happened, this whole damn section of the sector is one huge fething asteroid field and radioactive nebula. Whatever the frick these GUIDE people are doing out here is beyond me!"
"Wasn't it marked on the map?" Imka pulled herself along the hall after Gibbs' floating form.
"Feth no! There ain't a proper map of this sector or we'd have gone the long way round."
"And risk missing the deadline-"
"Feth the deadline! We're lucky we're alive!"
"Don't say that! Where's R4?"
"I sent him out to try and repair as much of the hull as he can," Gibbs punched the keypad to open the bridge gate and pulled himself through, "we get hit by another sucker that big and we'll be dead in the stars, Larue."
Imka pulled herself across the chamber by handholds to the control console and began running diagnostics, "The engines are still at 80%. We could make a jump out of the system to clear the asteroids and plot a new course in."
"Not until R4 finishes making repairs. The ship will never hold."
Hull inegrity: 65%
"What's happened? I'll tell you what's happened, this whole damn section of the sector is one huge fething asteroid field and radioactive nebula. Whatever the frick these GUIDE people are doing out here is beyond me!"
"Wasn't it marked on the map?" Imka pulled herself along the hall after Gibbs' floating form.
"Feth no! There ain't a proper map of this sector or we'd have gone the long way round."
"And risk missing the deadline-"
"Feth the deadline! We're lucky we're alive!"
"Don't say that! Where's R4?"
"I sent him out to try and repair as much of the hull as he can," Gibbs punched the keypad to open the bridge gate and pulled himself through, "we get hit by another sucker that big and we'll be dead in the stars, Larue."
Imka pulled herself across the chamber by handholds to the control console and began running diagnostics, "The engines are still at 80%. We could make a jump out of the system to clear the asteroids and plot a new course in."
"Not until R4 finishes making repairs. The ship will never hold."
Hull inegrity: 65%
Panathan Space
4 Hours Later
"This is Operative Larue reporting from the E.F. Simpra, my ship is damaged and leaking fuel. Requesting immediate retrieval at coordinates 10 42 17 Z. I have an injured co-pilot in need of immediate medical assistance. I repeat, this is Operative Larue reporting from the E.F. Simpra ... "
[member="Darth Carnifex"]