USS Vesta

A Play-by-Nova roleplay game.

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One Last Night, then a Cold Sleep

Posted on Thu Mar 25th, 2021 @ 9:12am by Commodore Yoshi Minawara

Mission: When the Bough Bounces
Location: Holodeck 3 \ Cargo Bay 2
1763 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure

MD05 (0250HRS)
For many a holodeck was a place of adventure, or wonder and mystery. For others it was a place to live fantasies too unrealistic, or too saucy, for the real world. For others still it was a place of meditation and zen. For Yoshi Minawara, in this exact moment, it was none of those things. The holographic assistant ducked as a spanner flew past, skittering across the ground, as it turned to regard him again. Before him was what had once been a fully intact Delta Flyer shuttle, stripped to the bulkheads, and it's warp core assembly laying on the ground. This too was in pieces, though there were more pieces at this exact moment than would be found in a Delta Flyer. If one knew what they were looking for, they could make out the shape of a benamite matrix, as well as various other components designed for the Quantum Slipstream Drive. The longer one looked, the more one could start to put the thoughts together. The assistant cleared his throat cautiously, and peaked inside the bulk of the Flyer's guts. "The power delivery still an issue sir?" it asked.

"Yeah the delivery is a fucking issue," retorted the Commodore, he hair having grown out long and uncontrolled, making him look very much like the 22 year old, final year of the academy student he would roughly be. It had been tied up in a top knot - another thing he had done as a 22 year old, thinking it was cool- which was slowly falling out of place. "The whole fucking system is built off a nerfed down Flyer, and they killed so much of it's power systems," he snarled, letting out an exasperated scream. The Talon-class would probably work, but they were bulk and uncommon in circulation still. And that said nothing for a standardized shuttle. Inside, layers of ODN cable were spooled about, and the EPS conduits had new junctions that moved about in odd angles. He'd even spiced up the power plant itself, moving to an upgraded system in hopes of squeezing a bit more juice through the system, but to no avail.

"You could start from scratch?" the assistant offered, a warm smile that didn't meet it's holographic eyes spreading across it's face. This only earned it a dirty look from the frustrated man.

"Yeah, and then try and justify the whole new shuttle to Starfleet? Doubt that'll fly," Yoshi said, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the shuttle and it's hollowed out guts. "Mind you, neither will this piece of shit, so who knows.. He began to pace, the assistant watching him, as he rolled his shoulder and stretched, trying to push back the gnawing pain that at at his insides. He was well above the point where he should have stopped taking pain killers, but the man had a problem giving up control, and it was showing. Still, he wasn't going to step into the cryopod yet, he wasn't ready for that kind of rest. He sighed, ran his hands across his face, and turned back to the shuttle. What was he missing?

"Computer," he called out, "Assemble new warp and quantum slipstream assembly, with a twelve percent decrease in injector size, and a thirty percent smaller benamite matrix. Next, replace M-RAM reaction with a reaction system based on the Vesta-classes power delivery. Finally, increase nacelle size by eight percent - no, make the a round ten percent, and rerun the ODN and EPS grids as are necessary. Simulate shuttle." There was a pause, as the system worked its calculations, and the entire mess disappeared, replaced instead by a new delta flyer. It's hump was more pronounced, and the nacelles were noticable more canted, but it would still fit in a shuttle bay. Stepping up the ramp, he nodded as he checked things off. It looked good from here, so he just had to make sure it would stay good. "Okay, so far, so good, but now I need you to run the power start up sequence." There was a beep, and the shuttle began to slowly boot up systems, running through the various checks before it brought the MRAM system online and began to run power to the new FTL system. Without warning the sound of shorts began to fire off in the distance, and sparks cascaded from open panels. The entire ship went dark, and another pained howl filled the empty holodeck.

"What went wrong?" he queried, his tone full of venom.

"System draw exceeded maximum allowed standards. Draw was too rapid, and caused immediate power failure beyond what the grid could handle. Sixty-four percent chance of the shuttle being destroyed." the computer read out to him, dryly. He glared back, and slumped into one of the seats on the command deck, hanging his head.

"I think you're onto something, we should start from scratch," the Commodore said, looking to the assistant.

"May I make an alternative suggestion, sir?" the program asked, looking at the human before him. "You are making wild assumptions and guesses, and they are getting more and more irrational. Perhaps a rest is in order? Or maybe even a break from this project altogether?" it cocked it's head, and Yoshi stared back for a long while. He was about to say something snarky when he started to cough heavily, doubling over in pain, as the coughing became more aggressive and pronounced. When it finally subsided, he looked down at the floor and his hands and his heart seemed to stop. The dark crimson on both was rich, and he stopped for the first time to consider. Though he wasn't given a chance, as the ship's EMH snapped into existence, the engineering assistant program having called it.

The hologram produced a medkit and began to scan the Commodore, who weakly tried to protest. "Commodore," the program said in a tone reserved for a medical professional, "you are experiencing severe internal trauma due to what your medical file notes a a viral infection causing a series of deaging. You are in need of treatment and immediate help. Alternatively, if no treatment is available, you require access to a cryochamber and to be put in stasis." It stood, and looked at him with a face that indicated there was no room for discussion.

"I'll go when I am ready," the man said, standing and moving to brush past, but the hologram stopped him. The Commodore snarled, "Computer. deactivate EMH," he said, but was met with a tone indicating the computer wouldn't comply. "Computer, Deactivate EMH, authorization Minawara-Alpha-Six-two," he said again, his tone sounding somewhat desperate.

"Unable to comply, emergency medical protocols in effect - Quarantine Protocol permits EMH to remain active." The man was sure there was a smugness to the computer's tone.

"So," the EMH said, almost cheerfully. "Sickbay?"



MD05 (0600HRS)

It was no secret that most people hated Cryosleep. It was uncomfortable, and left you with very little in the way of actual rest. There was the fact that it involved a lot of medical equipment, which on a Starfleet vessel was about as desired as an away mission to a demon planet. Some might actually take the away mission instead. Still, that didn't negate its usefulness, especially in slowing the bodies functions, and preventing disease from spreading, and when the disease was a rapidly deaging crew, sometimes it was necessary. Commodore Minawara had seen the reports, and had been quite happy to hear that the deaging process stalled, or at least slowed enough to be hard to track, somewhere around 10 years of apparent age, or whatever a species equivalent was. That did however mean that, at this moment, the Vesta was a school bus full of 10, or near 10 year olds, who were acting more and more like their age every passing hour.

The man stared at the pod with contempt, stripped to a set of underclothes, little more than tight fitting shorts and a tank top, and watched as the Crewman nervously eyed him. Yoshi's deaging had been significantly slower, but not halted, and sitting around 19 currently, he body had begun to fully contract, which was causing him a great deal of pain. To make the appearance worse for the few remaining medical staff that had to over see this, the borrowed science technician was currently holding Yoshi's left arm as though it were a Fabergé egg. With a heavy sigh, he turned to look at Alice, who was herself around the 10 mark, and look at him with fear and concern. "I'll be fine," he said, though his tone denoted anything but, as he laboured to breath with ribs and organs that didn't quite fit where they were. He stepped into the pod, and allowed the gathered individuals to begin to put medical equipment. The nurse rattled off a series of notes about cryosleep, but the Commodore wasn't paying attention to any of that. His mind instead raced with thoughts, powered by his youthful optimism returning, and his wealth of actual knowledge of how things worked. There was a part of him that wondered if this is how Jack felt all the time.

The EMH had run a series of emergency procedures to stop any more internal bleeding, but with how things were going they were a bandaid fix. Laying flat against the back of the machine, he took one more deep breath, and sighed. "Okay, I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he concluded, and there was a series of nods. The hum of machinery doing its job began, clicking away as the system began to read out his vitals to the pod's console, and the machine slowly reclined back until he was almost flat parallel to the ground.

"Okay Commodore, we're going to put you under and close the pod. For you it'll feel like going to sleep, and we'll see you once Doctor Soreson has a cure," the nurse said, their tone shake and unsure of their own words. The Crewman reached in, injecting the hypospray, and the Commodore began to mentally count, sure he'd catch the moment he fell asleep.

He didn't.

The door to the pod hummed shut, sealing up. There was a brief hiss, and the glass fogged over from the cold, leaving the gathered to stare at the body of the ship's Commanding Officer, and try not to let the sudden decrease in moral show. Especially not in front of the child that had been his wife.

 

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