“After Time After”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Captain’s Log, stardate... stardate… heh, stardate to be added later, if I get the time – no pun intended – and/or we ever get home. By ‘home’, of course, I mean that particular quantum slice of space-time reality that we…
I’m rambling again, aren’t I. A sure sign that I haven’t had much sleep lately, which considering our current situation…
Focus, dammit.
Shortly after discovering the chronometric nature of our current predicament, I ordered the shuttlecraft Madame de Pompadour completely isolated from any contact with the Vincennes’ main computer. That way, if the Vincennes is affected by any temporal phenomena, hopefully the good Madame’s onboard systems will remain unmolested, thus keeping track of the passage of time ‘back home.’ I’ve had the shuttle’s drive systems and sensor packages disabled – not irreparably so, just in case – and no one is allowed within five meters of the Madame with a combadge, tricorder, or PADD, to avoid any chance of ‘infection.’ I pray this works, so that if… well, I’d like to add ‘when’ to that ‘if’, and while I hope there is a ‘when’, I have to acknowledge the reality of…
Hellfire and damnation!
Captain Amy Wilde was startled by the knock on her ready room door, wondering why the hell anyone would knock before remembering that the door chime wasn’t operating. Power was at a premium, and things like door chimes were considered unnecessary. The amount of energy they used was miniscule at best, but right now the Vincennes was starving for every little erg she could get.
“Come in,” Amy said. The doors slid open (operated by emergency manual crank), revealing Commander Savannah Chase, Vincennes’ statuesque first officer. As Savannah stepped into the ready room, they heard a pop-fritz! and the bridge went dark, spilling shadow through the open door.
“Dammit, I just fixed the lights,” groused Savannah. Amy suppressed a smile; Savannah had been fighting with the bridge lighting for the last day and a half.
“What’s shakin’, Vee?” Amy asked. Savannah handed the captain a PADD.
“The last team just got back from the derelict, Cap’n,” she said, stifling a yawn. Sleep was at a higher premium than energy for the ship, it seemed. “We’ve picked her clean.”
Amy took the proffered PADD. “I feel like a vulture. No, worse, I feel like a grave robber.” She gave the PADD a cursory glance; it showed the materiel retrieved by the salvage team that had just returned. “What about the bodies we found?”
“Doc Murphy said DNA says they’re human, but the internal organ arrangement is like nothing she’s ever seen. She’s still running tests.”
“Keep me posted.” Amy yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Bloody hell, I need some sleep.”
Savannah indicated the couch positioned against the ready room wall. “You should crash for a couple of hours, Cap’n. Soon as we get the salvage stowed, we can hit the road.”
“Yeah, I think I will. Set course for that solar system we passed a day ago. There’s a Jovian gas giant there; we can hide in the upper atmosphere for a few days and get some repairs done.” Amy smiled tiredly. “And next time DTI asks us for a favor, remind me to show those humorless automatons they call agents what the airlock looks like.”
“Dulmer and Lucsley?” laughed Savannah. “I don’t know, Cap’n, I thought Dulmer was kinda cute…”
“Get out of here, you.” Savannah walked back on to the bridge, closing the ready room doors behind her.
Yeah, a nap sounds pretty bloody good right now. In any case, repairs to the Vincennes are proceeding apace, though time hiding in that Jovian will make a big difference. We’ve stripped the derelict of anything and everything that might be even remotely useful; it looks like a bizarre skeleton now, instead of the majestic – and to all appearances, Galaxy-class – starship it once was. I plan to take us to the Chop Shop, or at least where the Chop Shop should be, assuming it exists in this dimension, universe, wherever we are. Ostensibly, we’ll be looking for more resources, but in truth I’m hoping it is still there, and God willing, that it is undisturbed…
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Captain’s Log, stardate... stardate… heh, stardate to be added later, if I get the time – no pun intended – and/or we ever get home. By ‘home’, of course, I mean that particular quantum slice of space-time reality that we…
I’m rambling again, aren’t I. A sure sign that I haven’t had much sleep lately, which considering our current situation…
Focus, dammit.
Shortly after discovering the chronometric nature of our current predicament, I ordered the shuttlecraft Madame de Pompadour completely isolated from any contact with the Vincennes’ main computer. That way, if the Vincennes is affected by any temporal phenomena, hopefully the good Madame’s onboard systems will remain unmolested, thus keeping track of the passage of time ‘back home.’ I’ve had the shuttle’s drive systems and sensor packages disabled – not irreparably so, just in case – and no one is allowed within five meters of the Madame with a combadge, tricorder, or PADD, to avoid any chance of ‘infection.’ I pray this works, so that if… well, I’d like to add ‘when’ to that ‘if’, and while I hope there is a ‘when’, I have to acknowledge the reality of…
Hellfire and damnation!
Captain Amy Wilde was startled by the knock on her ready room door, wondering why the hell anyone would knock before remembering that the door chime wasn’t operating. Power was at a premium, and things like door chimes were considered unnecessary. The amount of energy they used was miniscule at best, but right now the Vincennes was starving for every little erg she could get.
“Come in,” Amy said. The doors slid open (operated by emergency manual crank), revealing Commander Savannah Chase, Vincennes’ statuesque first officer. As Savannah stepped into the ready room, they heard a pop-fritz! and the bridge went dark, spilling shadow through the open door.
“Dammit, I just fixed the lights,” groused Savannah. Amy suppressed a smile; Savannah had been fighting with the bridge lighting for the last day and a half.
“What’s shakin’, Vee?” Amy asked. Savannah handed the captain a PADD.
“The last team just got back from the derelict, Cap’n,” she said, stifling a yawn. Sleep was at a higher premium than energy for the ship, it seemed. “We’ve picked her clean.”
Amy took the proffered PADD. “I feel like a vulture. No, worse, I feel like a grave robber.” She gave the PADD a cursory glance; it showed the materiel retrieved by the salvage team that had just returned. “What about the bodies we found?”
“Doc Murphy said DNA says they’re human, but the internal organ arrangement is like nothing she’s ever seen. She’s still running tests.”
“Keep me posted.” Amy yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Bloody hell, I need some sleep.”
Savannah indicated the couch positioned against the ready room wall. “You should crash for a couple of hours, Cap’n. Soon as we get the salvage stowed, we can hit the road.”
“Yeah, I think I will. Set course for that solar system we passed a day ago. There’s a Jovian gas giant there; we can hide in the upper atmosphere for a few days and get some repairs done.” Amy smiled tiredly. “And next time DTI asks us for a favor, remind me to show those humorless automatons they call agents what the airlock looks like.”
“Dulmer and Lucsley?” laughed Savannah. “I don’t know, Cap’n, I thought Dulmer was kinda cute…”
“Get out of here, you.” Savannah walked back on to the bridge, closing the ready room doors behind her.
Yeah, a nap sounds pretty bloody good right now. In any case, repairs to the Vincennes are proceeding apace, though time hiding in that Jovian will make a big difference. We’ve stripped the derelict of anything and everything that might be even remotely useful; it looks like a bizarre skeleton now, instead of the majestic – and to all appearances, Galaxy-class – starship it once was. I plan to take us to the Chop Shop, or at least where the Chop Shop should be, assuming it exists in this dimension, universe, wherever we are. Ostensibly, we’ll be looking for more resources, but in truth I’m hoping it is still there, and God willing, that it is undisturbed…
Last edited:
