driftfleet | it's gonna rain - and it never ends

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it's gonna rain - and it never ends

[ It's midday, or close enough to it that the sun is blazing red hot above the planet. Everything seems ordinary - for disturbing, red-tinted values of ordinary, anyway. But the normalcy doesn't last for long.

Without warning, an explosive sound shocks through the jungle. It doesn't come from any one central point, but rather several points, scattered throughout, strategically placed to the advantage of someone. And from those massive shocks rises a wave of missiles - large, fast, and apparently, freely flying. They're guided, and they've locked onto their target: any foreign ship that is currently within Lato'li's atmosphere.

There's no way to mistake it. They're headed right for the Fleet.

The first wave feels a bit sporadic - timings might be off, but the missiles are still deadly, and if they hit, they hit hard. Shields might withstand this wave, but ships without shields will take direct hits. The ability to stay airborn is very, very quickly lost.

The second wave is much more precise, expertly timed and executed by whomever is firing from below. Even smaller shuttles get caught in the crosshairs, and those ships that lasted through the first volley will take a few more shots. If shields saved you before, they will fail here, giving out under the strain.

And the third wave comes, a little bit longer after, to finish the job. There are more of them, and they are far more advanced - they make the previous two volleys look like warning shots. This time, it's all missiles launched, all targets acquired.

Seven Fleet ships - and many, many shuttles - fall out of the sky, headed straight for the surface at alarming speed. Only four ships manage to escape the assault and exit the planet's atmosphere, retreating to orbit as fast as possible. Those lucky enough to have been in orbit can only watch as all of this happens.

But the missiles aren't the only thing up their sleeve. Just when the dust settles, while the network is surely lighting up with activity, attempts to contact one another and check on the status of fellow ships and crew, A loud, quick, terrible screeching noise shocks the network. It drowns out all communications on any connected devices - ship or personal. Ships in orbit will see all on-board systems flicker, then fizzle out, all non-emergency systems have gone completely down.

And with that.. there's silence. Perhaps too much silence. No matter what you do, no matter which buttons you press, which channels you try, there is no connection. Those who have dropped to the surface are entirely radio silent, and those in orbit have been reduced to the barest of abilities and life-support, with the bare minimum of contact.

So... What can you do now? ]

(( ooc: Feel free to use this post as a mingle for all your crashy or missile-dodgy needs!

• The following ships have been shot down: Bishop, Bloodsport, Blue Fish, Goldstone, Heron, Tourist, Twin Roses.
• The following ships are now in orbit: Blameless, Caprine, First Breath, Huntress, Iskaulit, Red Fish, Starstruck, Vanquish, Wonderduck

Good luck, Dear Fleet...~ ♪ ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You know, I think the Atroma might actually be trying to kill us.

[While Chekov works on the communications issue, Felix is seated at the nav station. While there's nothing specifically jamming the functionality of those instruments, it had taken some damage in the crash. Felix isn't an engineer - frustrating as all hell, to be honest because he could do some good if only the frakking augments didn't mess with what he already knows - but there's a limited amount that he can still accomplish, and by the gods he's going to.]

Any bets on the next crisis they're going to throw at us?

[...He's mostly just grumbling. At least he's slightly less self-sacrificing about this one, even though he's not slacking off in his efforts either.]

Edited 2017-10-24 03:13 (UTC)

At this moment, there are other parties that are trying to accomplish that with far more enthusiasm.

[Pavel, accustomed as he is to being an all-purpose genius, also finds the augments' tendency to cripple abilities that should be there endlessly frustrating. Now more than usual since his communications knowledge isn't solving their system's issues. Everything seems to be in order--as in order as anything can be after a spectacular crash--but nothing's working. Is it an engineering issue? Some kind of undetected phenomena related to the planet or its inhabitants' technology? Or are the Atroma keeping the ship's systems down to up the entertainment factor? Whatever the problem is, he has to believe that he can do something about it if he keeps at it.

Felix's grumbling is a pleasant distraction from yet another potentially life-threatening situation. What are their lives.]

Mm... something more creative, hopefully. If I wanted to see entire civilizations threatened or to be stranded on a hostile alien planet, I would stay at home.

[Their lives are unfortunate, is what they are. At least he can provide (morbid) amusement though.

Felix tips his head in slight acknowledgement of the Vieziri's more immediate threat, a grim smile on his face. To the second point, one of his eyebrows just lifts a little. They've chatted about this, kind of, but.....:]

Are you sure you haven't considered a career change?

[It's mostly a joke. That he probably shouldn't make while on a ship that is captained by the person who is actually Chekov's superior officer elsewhere. Hopefully his tone is dry enough to convey that he's not really suggesting Chekov leave Starfleet.

Not that he thinks he would anyway.]

[Unfortunate indeed. Chekov is quite sure that the Atroma owe them a nice planet after this one. If not nice, at least not in immediate peril or populated by murderous natives.

Even though Felix's tone is joking (or so he thinks, the other man can be a hard read), he treats the question seriously. Now is as good a time for seriousness as any.

Quietly:] I have. Not at home. Here, though, where I am far enough away to see more than a navigation console and a view screen... [He trails off. Smiles.] But who abandons a dream when it doesn't go as planned?

[Felix has his head bent over an electrical panel, and it's a lucky thing. He's looking down and slightly away from Chekov. That's why it's lucky.

Because Chekov's question hits him like a sack of bricks to the gut. Emotionally. He's dimly amazed that he doesn't audibly exhale, because he feels a little bit like it hit him physically. It probably has at least a little to do with the immediate internal answer that rises up in him. Me. I did. I gave up.

It's ridiculous for this question to bother him as much as it does. For the way it automatically twists something in his gut. He should be able to just shrug his shoulders and say something noncommittal.

Except.

Except that it's not like Felix has never noticed how he and Chekov are incredibly similar people. Or were. That's the thing. Were. Chekov is young, bright, friendly, eager. And, apparently, an idealist. "Who abandons a dream when it doesn't go as planned?"

It's not easy to come face to face with what you once were and aren't anymore. Maybe he'd kind of known all along that they shared so much. Even down to that vague worry that there could be something more. It's a little bit dizzying. He could say something. Warn him about lost chances and too much optimism. About not being smart in some ways that really count. He could do a lot and maybe it would save Chekov pain down the line. Because the world isn't a very nice place and Chekov is a nice person and Felix has a lot of personal experience with how that kind of thing can go.

(At the same time, Felix has the stupid sudden urge to find Kirk. To take him by the shoulders and to get him to promise to take care of Chekov. Watch out for him. Listen to him. He won't. But he wants to.)

In the end though, he can't bring himself to try and change Chekov's worldview. Felix has no idea if that's a kindness or not. He doesn't know if he himself would be better off if someone had tried to tell him how the world really worked. It comes down to the fact that being how he is hurts. He doesn't enjoy being reminded of how broken he is (especially now, brought into such sharp relief with Chekov just feet away) and he can't imagine twisting someone else that way. It still may not be a kindness.

It feels like Chekov asked the question hours ago, but in reality Felix's brain has been whirling through all these thoughts. It's a testament to his composure that he doesn't look as shattered as he feels. The only truly obvious sign is the way that his fingers are curled around the edge of the nav console, the fact that for a few long moments he grips it hard enough that his fingers are white. Maybe his eyes are noticeably distant. Maybe. After those moments, though, he pulls himself together enough to tilt his head in consideration, and then nod.]

May as well stick with it.

Edited 2017-11-10 00:29 (UTC)

[If Chekov had not spent so much time in the company of people who hide their emotions--some out of necessity because they are in a position of command, others out of habit after living in worlds where emotion is a weakness to be exploited--he might have thought nothing of the too-long pause or the death grip on the console. As it is, he notices both.]

May as well.

[He turns his full attention to Felix. It would probably be best to make some inane observation or comment on their (lack of) progress, allow the other man to continue hiding behind wry remarks and noncommittal responses.

But Chekov knows just enough about Felix from spending time in his company and from the Atroma's calibrations to be too concerned, too curious to wave this subtle reaction away.]

What is it?

[Full attention is the opposite of what he wants. In this moment, all Felix really wants to do is retreat and be alone and regroup. Not that any of that is really possible, not without giving away just how shaken he is.

...At least he has a plausible out. He's lucky he thinks quickly enough to find it.]

What? [As if he has no idea what Chekov is talking about, at least not immediately. Felix forces himself to look up, meet Chekov's gaze. He lets the question "click", then.] Oh it's nothing...my leg's just...been bothering me a little more since the crash. The pain flares up sometimes.

[There. That explains everything, doesn't it?]

It's not serious, though.

[Chekov watches Felix for a moment. He's always skeptical when people wave off concern and intuition tells him that this isn't the truth... but, while worrying is certainly in his nature, pushing is not. Neither is making his friends uncomfortable.]

There may be something that you could take for that. [And then there's Anders who doesn't seem like a viable option since he went and almost died.] I can look...?

You don't have to go out of your way. I'll ask about it later.

[His desire to be alone and regroup for a couple minutes wars with his desire not to cause that much of a stir. And the latter wins.

Even if he's not completely lying when he says his leg has been bothering him. That's why it's a good excuse. Plausible without being the absolute truth in that particular moment.

(There's a little portion of him deep down that is at least a little touched that Chekov seems to care as much as he does. It's nice to be reminded people care. It's just...you know. He could do with less caring right now.)

Felix's tone is easy, unconcerned. It's a tone that he's mildly forcing, but every second that passes between his revelation and the current moment makes it a little easier to really regain composure. He even returns to what he was doing to the electrical panel, although his attention flickers between it and Chekov. He shouldn't be too rude.]

I appreciate it, though. Thanks.

Yes, of course. Please let me know if you change your mind.

[Knowing that something is wrong without knowing what to do improve the situation is frustrating. Doesn't matter if that something is a communications system that's oddly resistant to being fixed or a person who's against accepting help.

Feeling rather defeated on all fronts, Chekov pushes away from the communications console with a sigh.]

I think that the only thing preventing this from working now is spite.

[Back to a more comfortable conversational place. You're welcome, Felix.]

[He appreciates that, yes, thank you. Maybe he's a tiny bit sorry for being difficult but...

Well. Actually no, not that much. Chekov seems like a nice guy and not someone that deserves to be burdened with anything approaching Felix's issues. No one really deserves that.

Felix glances over at the comm station, tilting his head a little.]

Spite sounds like a good enough rationale to me.

[Very dry tone, there. When were things ever easy?

(Okay he suspects it's probably outside interferance, but he also thinks Chekov is smart enough to have considered that, so he doesn't directly say it. Because if it is, there's probably not a lot they can do from here anyway.)]

[Burdens tend to be heavier and less likely to lighten when they're kept. Chekov knows this, which has done nothing to stop him from encouraging others to share theirs while keeping his own close. He's fairly open about his history, dreams, beliefs, and thoughts, but pain? That's not something that he wants to put on anyone else. He hasn't noticed his own hypocrisy.]

But spite is not a helpful diagnosis.

[He makes an expression that's somewhere between annoyance and grim amusement.]

I do wish that it was the ship being spiteful and not the Vieziri... or the Atroma. Ships can sometimes be reasoned with. The others not so much.

Unfortunately, there's only so much you can do from a console. I mean, it's usually a lot. But it has its limits.

[Not like Chekov doesn't know that. But Felix is making commentary anyway. Maybe just to keep the conversation going and off the topic of him.]

Then you've actually got to get your hands dirty. Never my personal strong suit, honestly.

[...Maybe a little about him. But self-deprecating and not on the original topic.]

[Felix is safe since Chekov is, in spite of his tendency to over-worry, quite content to keep things light. Look, he'll even slip under the console to inspect the innards so they can talk without looking at each other!]

You don't care for engineering?

[Hopefully Felix wasn't talking about metaphorical hand-dirtying. Chekov is too literal-minded in stressful situations to catch that.]

I like it--engineering, mechanics, knowing how things are put together. And there is something satisfying in working with physical components.

[He's not really talking about metaphorical hand-dirtying, but it's a different kind of hand-dirtying that he had in mind.]

Oh. Well, I'm not really an engineer. Though that's not to say that I don't have some experience and knowledge.

Though I was kind of talking more about combat more than anything else.

[Problem solving through beating things up.]

[Chekov is, in his mind, a scientist first and an officer second (or maybe an engineer second and an officer third?). Since he has placed Felix in the same category, it didn't even occurred to him to think of them as combatants.]

Oh, right, that. I have some training, but very little practical experience since the captain has found good reasons to keep me on the bridge and out of potential combat situations for most of the five years I have served with him. I'm grateful for this, of course.

[Even though he's a competent shot and just as capable of idiotic bravery as anyone else in Starfleet, Pavel knows that he belongs someplace removed from the action. He's squeamish when it comes to hurting people, friend or foe, necessary or not. It's a failing in a command officer--one that he keeps meaning to work on but never does.]

You have had combat training, correct? [Light, just curious, not fishing for details.]

[These kind of details, Felix doesn't mind providing anyway. They're inconsequential. Though they could, of course, lead to something more.]

Basic training, yeah. With a few refresher courses along the way.

[He shrugs, even if Chekov can't actually see the motion.]

But not a lot of practical experience either. Our combat mostly took place ship-to-ship, and I'm not that kind of pilot. Or a Marine.

I guess I was lucky that I wasn't placed in many on-the-ground situations either.

[Next to none.]

Maybe both of us are lucky. Not everyone is meant to be soldier.

[He certainly wasn't, and it's a shame that some of the situations that his crew finds itself in demand the skills of a soldier.]

May I ask what your role on the bridge was? [He thinks back to what he saw of that dark, old-fashioned spaceship during calibrations.] Tactical officer?

Hm. Maybe.

[The thing is, Felix chose to be a soldier. Though of course that doesn't mean that he was meant to be one. That certainly is true. If he'd known better, maybe...

But he shrugs, and the way he agrees sounds mild. He turns his attention to Chekov's question, nodding even though...again, it's not like he can be seen.]

Yes, actually. It was...an interesting role. Galactica was an old ship, and none of her separate systems were networked together.

[And considering that one of a tactical officer's jobs is to relay information between different officer roles...well. There was a lot of physical relaying going on.]

I was also largely - but not solely - responsible for making FTL jump calculations.

[Another thing Chekov forgets: he and Felix were joining very different organizations. He entered Starfleet to be at the forefront of scientific advancement, not to fight anyone.

He peers over the console to shoot Felix an incredulous look.]

None of them? How did you relay coordinates to your pilot or monitor the status of your engines?

[Efficiently, anyway. On the Enterprise, information could be shared near-instantaneously. No one needed to tell Chekov when the ship was ready to warp or how damaged it was in a fight because he could see for himself and change his plans accordingly. Not being able to do that...]

Someday, I would like you to tell me what that entails. The other you that I knew was never able to explain your means of faster-than-light travel or the way courses are calculated to my satisfaction.

[The look on Felix's face is wry when he answers.]

Primarily by running around the CIC a lot. We had the capacity to network our systems if necessary, but considering our enemies it wasn't a good idea.

[BECAUSE....HE TRIED ONCE....AND FRAKKED UP....

Chekov's request gets a small nod.]

I'd be happy to.

[He's not going to ask, but he kind of wonders if this other version of him just held back more. Felix can't think of any other reason to not have explained everything properly.]

I suppose that's an effective way to incorporate cardio exercises into your daily routine. [Clearly joking (not that he'd be entirely opposed to putting his sprinting skills to use during regular shifts).] They were cybernetic, correct? Your enemies?

[Also not a topic that Pavel has really gotten into with a Felix. He feels like he knows this one well enough to ask.

The Felix Gaeta in Marina had really been uninterested in making friends. Chekov didn't even know if Gaeta was his first name or last for a month or so after meeting him.]

Thank you. I know that jumping and warping are very different processes, but I imagine that the calculations are similar enough.

They probably are. I don't know that much about the theory behind warp drives either.

[Luckily for both of them, probably, this Felix has spend the last four years slowly learning to rely on other people again.

He even smiles at the joke about cardio, though it's accompanied by a shrug.

That smile drops a little when he responds to the part about the Cylons, but he doesn't get upset. It would just be weird to be smiling while talking about them. And of course, it puts him in a slightly more serious mindset.]

And, robots with varying levels of advanced AI, yeah. Not being networked made it that much more difficult for them to hack into our ship and take control.

I can tell you more than you want to know! But you can't let anyone who is affiliated with Starfleet [so Kirk, even if Kirk barely counts] know that you know. Technically there are rules against sharing information about our technology, although I think many rules lose their relevance once other universes are involved.

[Pavel climbs back up from the under console, ostensibly to do some work on the main board. That he can better monitor Felix's reactions in an effort to not overstep any bounds is just a bonus.

He matches his tone to Felix's. It's not a light subject, obviously.]

That kind of enemy poses a very different threat from anything we've faced at home. The closest thing would have been Krall's swarm--thousands and thousands of networked ships operating cohesively. They made no attempt to interface with our ship's computer, but they were able to destroy it.

[Felix just nods at that first part even though...honestly, you would think that there wouldn't be a problem talking about FTL technology with someone whose society already has similar technology. Maybe they'll come back around to that.

The latter part of what Chekov says is a bit more attention-grabbing. That sounds...overwhelming. Even the baseships hadn't been in the thousands, even if the Cylons were plentiful.]

Were they all manned?

it's gonna rain - and it never ends

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I lost this somehow?! /ashamed

the tag had wanderlust

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