Backstory for ns_elysium
Killtoy
Join Date: 2002-03-28 Member: 358Members
Join Date: 2002-03-28 Member: 358Members
<div class="IPBDescription">Typed up during a compile</div>He had waited a long time for this day, Lt. Edwards thought to himself, and now he was finally getting off this useless planet. Garisson duty was always a bad assignment, but when you pulled frontier garrison it was even worse. Sure, there was the frontier duty pay, but it hardly made up for two years on a boring rock a lifetime away from nowhere. Impatient to be leaving, Edwards glanced at his watch.
"Hurry up and stow your gear!" taking the cue, First Sergeant began to bark at the sailors, and the cargo hold was in order within a matter of moments. "I guess I'm not the only one who is anxious to be out of here," the officer mused as he headed up to the crew compartment. Minutes later he felt the Gs tugging on him as the vessel defiantly pulled away from the planet.
As the familiar feeling of artificial gravity set in, Edwards let his eyes roll shut. They would have to ride this crowded corvette for the next 26 hours before meeting up with Jumpship Ancile and more agreeable quarters. While their time in the corvette would be spent packed like sardines, it really was one of the fastest ways to travel on the slow side of lightspeed. The best way to do it was to sleep as much of the way as possible.
Edwards quickly pushed the sleep from his mind. He guessed that he had slept for a couple hours, but his eyes were too busy at the moment to check his watch. Too many of the men were stirring in their seats, and Edwards could tell that something was making them restless. The crew compartment door was open, and looking through it he saw his Commander talking to the Captain, their heads lowered. Edwards felt his stomach tighten as he fought off the urge to curse.
Come what may, there was little he could do to change his role in whatever lie ahead. With that thought, Edwards leaned back and forced his eyes closed again, feigning to return to sleep. Edwards knew his men would be watching him, looking for confirmation of their fears. By keeping his cool, he would deny them that confirmation. Moments later, he felt a hand press on his knee. Commander Tullson was leaning over him.
"Get yourself together. We're taking a detour, and I need to see you by the airlock in 1 hour." Tullson stated coldly.
Edwards took stock of the situation. As a departing garisson force, they had taken no equipment with them. Each man had with him nothing more than standard issues, including a submachine gun and sidearm, and whatever personal effects he had stowed below. This would make life difficult if things turned ugly, but Edwards was optimistic. His platoon had just spent a month training with their replacements on garrison duty. These men were ready for a little adversity.
Around an hour later, Edwards stepped down from the crew compartment onto the grating before the airlock. Commander Tullson was reviewing data on a monitor nearby, and Edwards waited to be addressed.
"One of the ships from the Recon Corps was returning for repairs and resupply," Tullson said, turning from the terminal, "but picked up a distress signal when she pulled within range of the FSS Elysium."
Edwards nodded in recognition of the name. He had visited briefly a couple years back while on the way out for his first tour on frontier duty. Elysium had started off a long time ago as a small science and observation post on the very fringe of explored space. When the budget ran thin, they allowed investors to buy in and the operation was expanded to include a jumpspace transmitter relay. Over the years colonization rushes and new trade lanes brought additional functions to the evolving facility. FSS Elysium became a sprawling network of living areas, fuel depots, research labs, and even medical facilities.
"It seems that the jumpspace transmitter is down on Elysium and the transmissions from her beacons have not yet reached even the most local planets." Tullson continued, "What we know now is that the chief of operations on Elysium issued a quarantine about 83 hours ago. The station was locked down and her quarantine beacon was activated. 31 hours later the station auto-activated her emergency distress beacon when it could no longer detect any surviving crew members."
"The CDC handles this sort of thing. Should we risk contamination?" Edwards objected.
"We will have to risk it. The Recon boys did a heavy scan as they passed Elysium. Many of the station's systems are down, and they are reading severe damage in locations throughout the entire station. Before CDC can come in, somebody has to go set things straight in there."
"I'll have the men prepare to board. What's our ETA?"
"I asked the captain to not waste any time," Commander Tullson replied, pausing to glance at the monitor, "and it looks like he's doing a fine job. ETA 18 minutes."
Edwards gave a salute and headed to prepare the soldiers. As he entered the crew compartment he heard a voice on the intercom, "Commander, we cannot get a response from landing control. We're using military overrides to access a docking arm off one of the repair bays. Standby."
Edwards had no idea what he was about to find on the other side of the airlock. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it. This was his job, and now it was time to earn his pay. "Alright fellahs, seal up and prepare to move out!"
<!--EDIT|Killtoy|April 30 2002,15:21-->
"Hurry up and stow your gear!" taking the cue, First Sergeant began to bark at the sailors, and the cargo hold was in order within a matter of moments. "I guess I'm not the only one who is anxious to be out of here," the officer mused as he headed up to the crew compartment. Minutes later he felt the Gs tugging on him as the vessel defiantly pulled away from the planet.
As the familiar feeling of artificial gravity set in, Edwards let his eyes roll shut. They would have to ride this crowded corvette for the next 26 hours before meeting up with Jumpship Ancile and more agreeable quarters. While their time in the corvette would be spent packed like sardines, it really was one of the fastest ways to travel on the slow side of lightspeed. The best way to do it was to sleep as much of the way as possible.
Edwards quickly pushed the sleep from his mind. He guessed that he had slept for a couple hours, but his eyes were too busy at the moment to check his watch. Too many of the men were stirring in their seats, and Edwards could tell that something was making them restless. The crew compartment door was open, and looking through it he saw his Commander talking to the Captain, their heads lowered. Edwards felt his stomach tighten as he fought off the urge to curse.
Come what may, there was little he could do to change his role in whatever lie ahead. With that thought, Edwards leaned back and forced his eyes closed again, feigning to return to sleep. Edwards knew his men would be watching him, looking for confirmation of their fears. By keeping his cool, he would deny them that confirmation. Moments later, he felt a hand press on his knee. Commander Tullson was leaning over him.
"Get yourself together. We're taking a detour, and I need to see you by the airlock in 1 hour." Tullson stated coldly.
Edwards took stock of the situation. As a departing garisson force, they had taken no equipment with them. Each man had with him nothing more than standard issues, including a submachine gun and sidearm, and whatever personal effects he had stowed below. This would make life difficult if things turned ugly, but Edwards was optimistic. His platoon had just spent a month training with their replacements on garrison duty. These men were ready for a little adversity.
Around an hour later, Edwards stepped down from the crew compartment onto the grating before the airlock. Commander Tullson was reviewing data on a monitor nearby, and Edwards waited to be addressed.
"One of the ships from the Recon Corps was returning for repairs and resupply," Tullson said, turning from the terminal, "but picked up a distress signal when she pulled within range of the FSS Elysium."
Edwards nodded in recognition of the name. He had visited briefly a couple years back while on the way out for his first tour on frontier duty. Elysium had started off a long time ago as a small science and observation post on the very fringe of explored space. When the budget ran thin, they allowed investors to buy in and the operation was expanded to include a jumpspace transmitter relay. Over the years colonization rushes and new trade lanes brought additional functions to the evolving facility. FSS Elysium became a sprawling network of living areas, fuel depots, research labs, and even medical facilities.
"It seems that the jumpspace transmitter is down on Elysium and the transmissions from her beacons have not yet reached even the most local planets." Tullson continued, "What we know now is that the chief of operations on Elysium issued a quarantine about 83 hours ago. The station was locked down and her quarantine beacon was activated. 31 hours later the station auto-activated her emergency distress beacon when it could no longer detect any surviving crew members."
"The CDC handles this sort of thing. Should we risk contamination?" Edwards objected.
"We will have to risk it. The Recon boys did a heavy scan as they passed Elysium. Many of the station's systems are down, and they are reading severe damage in locations throughout the entire station. Before CDC can come in, somebody has to go set things straight in there."
"I'll have the men prepare to board. What's our ETA?"
"I asked the captain to not waste any time," Commander Tullson replied, pausing to glance at the monitor, "and it looks like he's doing a fine job. ETA 18 minutes."
Edwards gave a salute and headed to prepare the soldiers. As he entered the crew compartment he heard a voice on the intercom, "Commander, we cannot get a response from landing control. We're using military overrides to access a docking arm off one of the repair bays. Standby."
Edwards had no idea what he was about to find on the other side of the airlock. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it. This was his job, and now it was time to earn his pay. "Alright fellahs, seal up and prepare to move out!"
<!--EDIT|Killtoy|April 30 2002,15:21-->
Comments
BTW since when do marines see r-speeds? <!--emo&???--><img src="http://www.natural-selection.org/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/confused.gif" border="0" valign="absmiddle" alt='???'><!--endemo-->
Great writing, and I love the visual aid. <!--emo&:)--><img src="http://www.natural-selection.org/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/smile.gif" border="0" valign="absmiddle" alt=':)'><!--endemo-->
Kickage!