Seven Lifeboats Less
20 Mar 2018Namita Pear
With the forces of gravity turned up by a factor nearing pi, and the gradient of the surrounding rock exceeding forty-five degrees, I could not think of a worse place to be driving. Still, I kept the compass carat to the twenty degrees position as best I could, the increased weight of the Scarab throwing me about while I labored just to breathe in the whirring craft. Wade sat nearly a kilometer behind me, the entirety of that distance a jagged mess, difficult to traverse. He asked again if I was sure which direction I was going. Honestly, I didn't know, it was possible we had lost them while we shuffled around looking for a landing site. But sure enough, I picked up the signal again. "God," I shouted out with a relieved glee, "it's them!"
Seven single-body escape pods, jagged metal and scrap around them. Nearly a thousand light-years from the bubble, a small group of people who, by the pods' readings, were still alive. The process of trekking the whole kilometer to the nearest landing site, just barely enough for YIAH to sit on, was hell. But we got them back. We saved them.
As they sat waking up out of their artificial comas, Wade explained what we would do.
Well, good morning, everyone.
As you very likely realize you have, all of you, been recovered from the surface of this planet after, we assume, your vessel suffered serious issues and subsequently broke apart. We think we even sailed through your wreckage shortly before we landed here.
I am the first mate and copilot, Wade Alexander, serving under Commander Namita Pear. By a... fluke we suffered damage due to the unexpectedly heavy gravity of this place, causing us to go on a geological expedition for spare materials. As I repaired the hull and reset the necessary systems, the Commander discovered you and we believe some more wreckage which impacted around here. To give you a reference as to where 'here' is, we are approximately halfway between the Bubble and nebula NGC 7822, which is 'close' to the North American Nebula and her neighbors. Exactly five hundred light-years from us, in the Iris nebula, is an asteroid station used by Iris Tourism. Once you are all fully awake, we'll make flank speed for her and get you a Search and Rescue charter posthaste.
I understand our accommodations are cramped – we hadn't expected to be taking on passengers this far out – but we are a dedicated exploration vessel. A jump range of forty light-years should mean we have you back to civilization before cabin fever sets in.
And, finally, I also understand you may have been expecting more of you here. You seven are the only escape pods we've found. I will personally inform Search and Rescue as to this planet's status and a dedicated lifesaving expedition will be launched in due time; but there is nothing we or you can do for anyone you don't see here. On the table is some literature they have prepared to deal with some of the emotions you may be feeling.
Even I had a period in life where I could have desperately used it. Please, at least take a look, make yourself comfortable, eat and drink whatever we can offer you. Welcome aboard the Yes I Am Happy, and everything is going to be all right.
It was a speech he and I had planned in the berth cockpit, as they woke above us. At the very least he wasn't chilly towards me.
We docked without incident after nearly a dozen jumps into Iris Tourism, taking us literally to the opposite side of our intended track. On the way, we interrogated our passengers some about what they were doing this far out.
The USS Jim Davis began her life as a star-charter using sophisticated equipment to map multiple system jump-routes without actually needing to visit or scan them. Nearly two centuries later, she was aging but kept alive through refit programs, and was essentially the size of a modern-day corvette without external expedition modules. As you now guess she lay in pieces within the HIP 1080 system, apparently as a result of a failed jump that sent them, falling apart, out of witchspace. The event occurred some months ago. With some of her crew recovered and the data core intact and in our hold (we had visited her remains before landing,) we will at least be able to bring closure to the Federation and family members, as well as a tidy salvage fee.
With our survivors offloaded and the last of our Centauri Mega Gin poured out in honor of the flight crew and captain of the Jim Davis, who dutifully kept her alive as long as possible for the research personnel to escape with their lives, we left to observe the nebula. Wade still won't talk to me if it isn't necessary.
I don't get him. We did a very good thing! Deciding to land on that planet was almost a fluke of heavenly intent, serendipity at the very least. The man clearly can't just let go of the little ruffles we face along the way. I feel better, and validated, with the thought that people like me are out here, helping those who might go into stasis thinking they'll never see civilization again. The guy should grow up.
At least Iris Tourism has amazing beer-battered whitefish. Our revised destinations:
Iris Nebula- Veil Nebula, East and West
- Sadr Region
- North America Nebula
- Pelican Nebula
- Elephant's Trunk
- Cave Nebula
- NGC 7822 Nebula