Ghost In The Dunes
Posted on Sun Feb 9th, 2014 @ 5:49pm by Commander Jordan Gunning & Lieutenant Augustus Deakin & Captain Vahn Drayel & Lieutenant JG Allison Price
Mission:
Fate of the Angels
Location: Bellatrix II [Surface]
[ON]
The ventral egress port began to open, revealing a thin crack of bright light which expanded and caused Jordan Gunning to squint as his eyes tried to adjust. The change in climate was immediate and suddenly the comfortable temperature of the compartment was replaced by baking heat.
Gunning immediately unzipped his field jacket. "These were a terrible idea." He muttered, commenting on the lavish impracticalities of the Standard Issue equipment.
The temperature change was swift and brutal. Deakin felt sweat instantly bead on his forehead and followed Gunning's lead of unzipping the field jacket. "I'm sure they were a great idea to the bureaucrat in nice cool San Francisco."
"I take it you never had to spend much time doing field repairs, sirs," the young ensign responded. "The extra pockets can be a god-send. Still, it doesn't help that the uniforms are black, and it's hot as hell out here." She shouldered her tool kit and unzipped her field jacket as well.
"Oh, I've done plenty of field repairs," Gus said, then flashed a wide grin across his face. "And I complain like a bored ten year old every time I have to do them in heat like this."
"This way," Deakin said, pointing off to the east. They could see nothing but more sand and brilliant blue sky in that direction, but Deakin assured them. "It's three hundred and ninety metres that way. There's a small dune between us and it, but it shouldn't be too taxing."
Gunning shielded his eyes from the sun but it was impossible to make anything out over the ridge of the dune. "My tricorder's still getting nothing. It's no wonder they call this the Delta Triangle we'll just need to take a look."
"Well, only one way to find out. Anyone want to take bets on what we find?" Price inquired, before considering that she probably shouldn't bet with her senior officers.
"You're on, Ensign," Gus said, vaguely recalling some edict somewhere about an officer never putting himself in a position to win off his subordinates. Dismissing it as heat-induced nonsense, he continued, "My latinum is on us finding the wreck of an unidentified starship from a long dead species that yields countless archaeological treasurers that the boffins will salivate over for the next few decades."
"I bet it's a freighter," the engineer replied. "They probably had shoddy maintenance and ended up dropping out of warp too far off course."
Gus shook his head at the technical, rational response from the engineer. "Where's your sense of wonder, Ensign?"
"Who said I had no sense of wonder. I'd love to take an old freighter like that and see how it's put together. That doesn't sound fun to anyone else?"
"Not really." Gunning replied. He had never understood the excitement that engineers had for machines, but did recognise that their enthusiasm had probably saved his life on more than one occasion.
Drayel was armed and ready, but he said nothing as he scanned the immediate area. He checked his rifle, and then looked at the others. "Maybe Deakin and I should head out first, scout the area and make sure it's safe?" He smirked as a bead of sweat ran down his forehead. The heat was oppressive, but Drayel had been in worse.
"Might be a good idea," Gus said, turning to face Gunning and await orders. Suddenly he felt ill-equipped without a rifle, armed only with a hand phaser on his hip.
"I'm sure we'll be fine." Gunning said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. "Drayel, you take point."
They walked for a short time, slipping and struggling for solid footing on the baking sand until they eventually reached the crest of the dune. "Holy shit." He exclaimed. His voice full of the wonder that he had mocked his colleagues for.
Gus felt his jaw drop as he stood tall on the crest, shielding his eyes from the sun. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, but there it was. He turned to Price and gestured at the half-buried spectre ahead of them. "I think we both lose, Ensign."
Price squinted as her eyes adjusted to the sun. The old hull had certainly seen better days, but the big question was how did it get here. Her sense of wonder perked. "And yet, we somehow both win."
Gunning had flipped his tricorder but was still receiving very little information. He had all the information he needed right in front of him but his eyes couldn't process it. There it was- badly damaged and covered in sand. The dull, battered alloy still read as clearly as ever: U.S.S. SERAPHIM.
He found himself walking toward it, drawn inexorably toward its gleaming hull. Its nacelles seemed to have been shredded but had remained in place atop the majestic pylons which reached high above them. The sand had covered a significant portion of the secondary hull but it was possible to see some deep gashes scored backward from the deflector array which itself glinted in the evening sun of Bellatrix II.
Price carefully started down the dune, following closely behind Gunning. "I bet we could get inside through one of those hull breaches behind the main deflector."
Gus followed and was racking his brain trying to remember something - anything! - about the USS Seraphim from Starfleet History or even spacefaring legend. He was coming up with nothing, so he posed the question as he steadied himself on the shifting sand. "Has anyone ever heard of this ship? Seems like a missing Constitution-class ship is something someone would know about."
"Agreed." Gunning replied as they drew closer to the gouge which Ensign Price had pointed out. "The tricorder's still not showing anything, let alone a record of the ship. Anyone got a PADD with them?"
Price dug around in her tool kit and handed a PADD to Commander Gunning. "I always carry one or two in my kit."
"Fantastic!" Gunning exclaimed and went about searching for the ship in the library computer. "Right, got it. USS Seraphim. Launched Twenty Two Forty Seven under command Elspeth McIndoe. Left service and," he paused and glanced at the ship in front of them, "broken up in Twenty Two Seventy Eight."
Gus squinted at the ship and shook his head, "If that's what passed for broken up in the twenty-third century ..."
"I don't think it did." Gunning replied, reading on in the record. "It says here that much of the alloy from the Seraphim was recycled into colony buildings and sent out with civilian ships. It shouldn't be here. That can't be here."
"So what are we looking at?" Gus asked. "If the Seraphim was broken up, then this must be something else. A ruse, maybe? Some kind of duplicate?"
Gunning had wandered off and was almost out of sight, the sand whipping up around them, when he called back, "What's the point? They'd never have been able to fool the transponders, even back then. Mind you, it's not like we have many other explanations!"
"But it still begs the question," Allie brought up, "why is it here?"
Gus trudged through the sand, following the path made by the commander's tracks. "Only one way to find out, I suppose," he shrugged, hoping they would find some answers inside. "Let's open her up and have a look."
[OFF]
Commander Jordan Gunning
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
Lieutenant Augustus Deakin
Chief Operations Officer
Marine Captain Vahn Drayel (NPC: Vendenje)
Fox Company Commander
Ensign Allison Price (NPC: Von)
Engineering Officer
