Stranded - Drive Malfunction
07 Jul 2024Kasumi Goto
"You might sometimes ask yourself what it would be like, to survive on a world that couldn't be any more inhospitable to humans if it tried. Well, I can tell you all about that now, after going through just that, on a world which sustained life, but wouldn't be a worse place for a human to live in if it tried. An ordinary human, anyway.
Alert: System error. Data structure disintegrated. Location/time memory corrupted.
I was standing near a space plant which the scanner had classified as an "Osseus Fractus", and its shape was giving me funny ideas. This particular specimen was, by all looks and the data of its sample - completing a set of three - fully mature, and offered quite a bit of space. Rounded, sort of space. I looked it over, and began following a very silly thought.
"I wonder if I can sit in it.", I openly remarked.
"It is likely that you would be able to. The space should be sufficient.", EDI replied to me. "However, I see little reason why you would choose to. Additionally, it would carry biological matter on your suit that would need to be - "
It was already a little too late to stop me, and the AI stopping to speak coincided more or less with me lightly hopping upward, enough to carry me just above the rim of the bowl-like structure of the organism's top half, in the roughly .2G environment, and land inside it. It wasn't quite as even as I'd thought... but, it was good enough. I let myself drop, and... less dropped and more floated to the 'ground' which I had chosen as a seating surface, in my silly mind.
It looked comically slow, and I only picked up enough speed that the 'impact' of the quite flexible mass on my lower half resulted in an upward bounce that was quite felt. I was down a bit more firmly on the second touchdown, and put on a quite funny look to accompany the act, finding my roundness to work rather well in the rounded structure of the 'space bone', though this one didn't look much like it. Even had a quite nice, blue coloration... turquoise, apparently, but I just liked how it looked, not so much caring for the color's name.
I carefully stood back up, and hopped back over to my ship, parked nearby. While, technically, I preferred driving one of the SRVs on the ship - either a Scarab or Scorpion, though I much favored the latter - on this particular moon, the Osseus stuff was growing quite sparse, on top of already needing a good distance between two sampled organisms, so I had to go several kilometers between the plants... as much as they could be qualified as such, which made the ship more practical even when considering the walk up and down from and to the airlock.
EDI made no comment on my stupidity, or rather just inappropriately weird silliness, when I entered and waited out the decontamination sequence to scrub the alien biological matter - and any bacteria from within the atmosphere - off my suit. Only took off the helmet - a lighter one for exploration work without any threat involved - once it was done. That was the last biological signal worth taking a scan of in this system, partly thanks to there only being one moon with life on it, present within - so I took off and set up for the next jump.
In the next system ...
The bright light of a neutron star - a quite active one, judging by its spin, though it was not seizure-inducing like some of the more extreme pulsars I'd seen - greeted me as the hyperspace jump completed. Undiscovered, as of yet - a secondary star also appeared on the radar as I fired up the discovery scanner to check for other bodies. Twelve signals from larger bodies pinged back, so ten planets... plus an asteroid belt around the B star, which, it turned out, was an L class dwarf. I did have an odd interest in those, despite them only just barely being on the edge of what qualified a star as being part of the main sequence, yet without being such a stellar body.
Maybe it was that what made them interesting, given that their heat still allowed for a reasonable chance of interesting bodies to form around them. As was the case here - a lone high-metal content world orbited the neutron star at quite an elliptical orbit, albeit away from where its jets pointed, sustaining some bacteria and "Stratum" colonies on it. Extremophiles were probably the only thing that would survive on such a planet, anyway. The other nine bodies were at the dwarf star, some high-metal content planets, a couple ice rocks... and, the closest of them, an ammonia world. A little chilly for one with an average surface temperature of 180 Kelvin, or minus 93 degrees Celsius, but liveable, as long as you wouldn't stray toward the poles on either hemisphere too much.
Being curious, I'd decided to look at the planet with the extremophiles first, even if they probably wouldn't be too different in their appearance, to the ones of the same type I'd encountered so far... after skimming the neutron jet for an FSD boost - I was, after all, looking to return to the Bubble after about a month outside of it, in deep space, some of it close to the galactic core. But that didn't stop me from, stopping, for curiosities, here and there. This was one of them.
The neutron orbiter turned out to be about what I expected from it, with its - thin - sulphur dioxide atmosphere. The brain-looking bacterial colonies, and 'Stratum Tectonicas', which I found on so many different worlds with different conditions and atmospheres... maybe that was why it paid so well. Couldn't really imagine another reason for it - and this was the one that made the most sense, too. An organism thriving in so many different conditions - and so much - would certainly be of great interest to scientists. Part of me did have to wonder why so many identical forms of life could be found elsewhere, and basically everywhere, within the galaxy... almost as if someone, or something, had spread them around, then left them to adapt to their various environments.
Things didn't go quite so smoothly on the way to the ammonia world. I was on the last stretch of the - roughly, ten thousand light second, from the neutron star - journey and about to switch off the supercruise drive overcharge when, as I hit the button to disengage it, there was the sound of something violently disintegrating rumbling - and shaking - through the ship, nearly throwing me out of the pilot's seat. Next thing I knew, my ship was still shooting toward a planet at several dozen times light speed, before safety failsafes kicked in and forcibly dissolved the shifted space-time bubble it was using to traverse the void. Which then did throw me out of the seat, but I caught myself on the dashboard before I slammed into something, head first.
I oriented myself to the ceiling of the ship again, and... primary lights were off. No power. Something had very obviously gone wrong, and knocked the reactor out with it. I fumbled around with the right-hand panel until I got the reboot sequence started up. Hopefully, quickly, because there was a planet already quite large in the cockpit view. And getting larger at a fast pace, when it came into view as the ship spun around. Definitely caught in the gravitational pull.
While I waited, I tried to settle back into the seat. Seemed like the safest position, right now, but I had to hold myself in it, until power rebooted and re-established the magnetism meant to keep more than just my feet locked in place. Luckily, it did, and not a moment too soon. EDI's hologram popped up a moment later, as the lights flickered back to life as well.
"EDI... what, happened?", I inquired in an alerted, though firm tone.
"I was not yet able to determine the cause of the explosion, but it appears to have been internal, damaging power systems and primary thrusters.", the AI answered.
"So, what works?"
She began to recite system status as if off a list. "Life support, functional. Sensor array mostly intact. Reactor and distribution systems, operating at limited capacity. Main thrust offline, limited maneuvering and reverse thrust is available - but insufficient to escape the planet's gravitational attraction at this distance. Frame shift is fully non-functional."
I sighed. "Gr-eat. Can you, stop this spin, at least? And, what about, shields?"
The ship's movement stabilized. "The generator is functional, but cannot be powered at the same time as thrusters, at current reactor capacities. Backup power sources, except for scanners, are unavailable, as they were damaged by the blast."
"Ok, ok... think. Think, think." I raised both hands, then lowered the left one, pointing at nothing with the right. "Sensors are active?"
"Yes."
That gave me something to work with. "Then... probes! Find, somewhere, to land!"
EDI hadn't said it, but I was very much aware I'd be going down to that planet now, whether I liked it or not. I watched the display as a couple of probes shot off toward the ammonia world, sending back telemetry about its surface, environmental conditions, and... that was about it. Of course the part of the array that would receive and analyze detailed information about the local biosphere was dead. But I knew enough. Three-quarters Earth gravity. Roughly five atmospheres of pressure, a mixture of nitrogen, hydrogen and some other gases in negligible quantities, plus ammonia vapor... hopefully not enough to corrode the hull, or sufficiently dispersed to avoid that issue.
The only problem... it was not exactly habitably warm by any human standard. And even ammonia-based life wouldn't want to stray far from the equator, given an average surface temperature below the freezing point of ammonia. Oceans, however, were very much still liquid... and covering most of said surface. But I could see some larger, solid landmasses below, one of them already highlighted on the canopy display, along with the ship's heading. The trajectory would need some adjustment, else we'd plunge right into a highly corrosive sea - not exactly good if I wanted to get back off-world, eventually - but, on the bright side, it was generally going into that area already. I pointed at it.
"EDI. There. Best landing spot?"
"According to the telemetry from the probes, yes. It remains within the habitable band along the planet's equator, and has sufficiently flat land to safely land the ship in an emergency."
"... if, I can walk, down there." Because I didn't know I could. Not for certain, anyway, and there was no oxygen in the atmosphere either. "Adjust the course. I... trust, you, do it right."
This was a task that required precision, the kind ony a computer was capable of, especially at this distance. I heard the sound of the thrusters - those that remained functional - firing, reverberating through the hull, and watched the trajectory marker change, until it would... probably... end up on solid land. There were definitely some lakes down there as well, and this current course would put the ship near one. Not much of a better option, though.
"I will keep the ship stable for as long as possible during atmospheric descent. However, some manual input during the landing may be required.", EDI informed me.
"Hull breaches?", I spontaneously asked, rather than engage with that idea, for now.
"None detected. The detonation appears to have caused only internal damage, although significant."
"Ok... one, good thing, at least."
There was definitely some relief in my voice there - one thing I really did not need to worry about was superheated air from re-entry getting into the ship, and risking to tear it apart from the inside. But, while everything was still 'automated'... I had nothing to do. Except check the status of other, non-vital systems.
Surprisingly, the repair limpet controller had managed to remain intact. Couldn't quite say the same about the field-maintenance unit, though - it had taken a bad hit, and on top of not being powered thanks to the reactor damage... its own backup power was just as dead. Meaning I couldn't use it to patch up the fusion plant, which necessitated a complete shutdown to perform the kind of repairs necessary to get it working proper again. Not without doing hand repairs, and the reactor, much like the FSD, was one of those pieces I most definitely wouldn't touch myself. I trusted my tech skills, certainly, but not for those two parts of the ship, which were by far the most complex, or in case of the reactor, simply most important. I shut the display off again, which was followed by EDI and some more helpful advice.
"Kira, I suggest you wear a helmet during the descent. I cannot predict with certainty how powerful the impact will be, and you may wish to avoid head trauma. Additional armor to protect your upper body may also be desirable."
"Is... it safe, to walk?", I cautiously asked.
"For the moment, yes. I would not suggest for you to still be stood once the ship begins to enter the atmosphere, however."
I didn't need to be told twice. I quickly got out of the seat and over to my cabin - as quickly as I could, at least - and took out both my full-cover helmet, not one of the glass ones which served mainly as vacuum protection - and chest armor, trying to not let my oversized breast get in the way of reducing the chance of any broken ribs, as much as possible. Probably also better to not have all that soft, squishy and - most importantly - sensitive, mass, get violently projected against walls. Then the helmet, and back to the cockpit.
Planet still loomed, filling up pretty much the entire window by now. Could start making out details on the surface... which meant that the ship would probably make contact with the atmosphere soon. In the... next few minutes. Time that passed agonizingly slow, the targeted continent becoming bigger and bigger.
"Once the primary descent phase is complete, manual control will be available, should you need to make any adjustments to ship trajectory.", EDI informed me. "I will provide as much guidance as I can to you in the process, and enable shields at full power before the landing."
"Ok."
I kept my response at that, favoring to ready my mind for the... at best, crash landing. Controlled, certainly, but still a crash... which I would've only been able to avoid if the thruster assembly hadn't taken damage in that explosion, probably the worst of it, and rendered primary thrust unavailable at that. At least the atmosphere would slow the ship down some.
At this point, all I could do was... wait. And hope the hull would hold... because I really wasn't sure if its tolerances were made for a high-speed descent through a rather dense atmosphere. It just had never been a consideration I needed to make, barely ever landing on these dense atmospheric worlds, and most human-inhabited ones seemed to be around the 1-2 atmospheres of pressure range, with only a few at three or higher. Undoubtedly, more heat would be imparted from the increased friction, too.
I saw the beginnings of flame form around the window, and the ship to rattle as it transitioned from the vacuum into the air of the world beneath me. Then the shutters closed, leaving only instruments with which to observe progress. Speed still climbed under the effect of gravity, but less so between air resistance and EDI's attempts to keep the ship going where we intended it to. This situation did at least offer me some chance of survival... if the hull remained in one piece upon landing.
"Should I... think, of the escape pod?", I asked, out of precaution.
"I cannot recommend it, when considering all available factors.", the AI answered. "The pod may end up landing at a great distance to the ship itself, requiring several days to reach it again, and the local environment, if you did not realize it, is hardly supportive to human life."
"Am aware."
"Your best chances of survival are to stay with the ship. And, providing the landing remains as controlled as it can be, you should suffer minimal injuries throughout it."
"That... is, a lot of assumptions."
"They are less risky than launching with an escape pod, which may not have sufficient time to slow down its descent prior to impact, if used within a reasonable distance of the landing site."
I sighed, and... remembered to check the status of heatsink launchers. Both were, seemingly, unaffected, so that was good. Could use those to control the ship's heat level... or EDI would, anyway. Right now, the experience was hands-off, for me, but... not very relaxing, considering I was heading right for a planet, with barely enough thruster functionality to keep the speed from reaching instantly lethal levels.
The sounds of air rushing past the ship became louder and louder, as did the rattling of the frame. Which, really, wasn't the most aerodynamic, if just because of the two stubby 'arms' which extended to either side of the cockpit, but the little antennas on either side probably didn't help too much either. I'd never even been able to figure out their purpose... hoped they'd stay on, though, in case they covered some important ship function.
This really didn't feel very nice. I had to just sit there and hope everything was going smoothly, while well-knowing I couldn't do a lot myself, in this situation, only listening to the sounds outside, and the occasional jettisoning of a heatsink block. After a few minutes... everything became a lot quieter, but the tension only increased. Because the trickiest part of this was about to come up.
Sensors read about forty kilometers to the surface when the cockpit shutters opened back up. That altitude had dropped by another five, by the time they had fully retracted, allowing me to see the surface, and some clouds. I thought about landing gear, but decided against it - more likely to just get sheared off at this speed the ship was going, and I would kind of need it later. Thirty kilometers... the trajectory looked good. Good enough to not end up as part of a mangled metal wreckage.
Twenty... something violently jerked the ship over to the right, causing readouts that had previously been... less angry, to become a bit more red. And the ship was fighting my own inputs to try keeping it straight.
"Damn it, why?"
That wind gust really was the last thing I'd needed. I managed to get the ship back under control, despite it fighting back against my control, but that wasn't of much use when the trajectory had been irreversibly altered. And, as I looked at it, not for the better.
Down to ten kilometers. Started to pass the clouds. Looked like I'd end up nearer to a lake, not far from a mountain range. Hopefully, not in the lake.
Five kilometers. Was getting easy to recognize details in the landscape now, as unfamiliar of a sight was it was. Passed through another, lower cloud.
Two kilometers. Would've liked to say I'd managed to turn the descent into a glide, but it was more just 'Not quite dropping out of the sky like a rock'. At least the hull hadn't been crushed under the pressure. Shutters closed again to protect the canopy.
One kilometer. Reverse thrusters turned off under EDI's guidance, diverting the power made available to shields instead, while retaining the ability to keep the hull level with the ground. Even managed to slow down a little, thanks to air resistance.
Five-hundred meters. Triggered shield by instinct. Any second now...
The whole ship shuddered upon first impact, knocking the shields offline and causing an upward bounce. A few seconds later, I was jerked forward and nearly pulled out of the seat for a fourth time, while metal very audibly shrieked as it was dragged along the surface violently. A warning triangle appeared above the holo of the surface, displaying some kind of dropoff where the surface ended.
"Come on... come on..."
Those few seconds, after I'd stopped myself from flying across and around the cockpit like a bouncy rubber toy, were possibly the longest few of my life yet. The ship was definitely getting slowed down by the ground, but it inched ever closer, and closer, to the edge, and... it stopped, just barely before it. I breathed out a loud sigh of relief, hit the shutdown command for all but auxiliary power to run diagnostics, and... just stood up, taking off my helmet, placing it on the dashboard. Looking around the cockpit, there were more than just a few loose panels and wires now. Surprising that none had managed to hit me. Canopy... looked sort of intact. At least, not broken. I took another few breaths before speaking.
"EDI... open shutters, please?"
The metal covers opened up... sort of, and slowly, creaking a bit along the way. Did still get a fairly good view of where I'd landed. Right at the edge of the lake I'd seen earlier, and just barely not inside it. A few meters more, and my ship would've gotten wet in a corrosive lake. At least, a small part of it. Certainly wasn't tempted to test the resistance of its metals, given the potency of Thargoid corrosive enzymes.
I dropped myself back into the pilot's seat with another sigh, just sitting there for a moment, before I started up diagnostic programs. Which they did, sort of slowly, and with a few 'glitches', until they were online. Then, they seemed to work. Mostly.
Things didn't look great, to say the least. Engines were pretty much completely out, the reactor was even less functional after the impact, there were a number of breached sections - largely focused along the lower hull, as expected - and the shield generator had been overloaded by the high-speed impact, leaving it functional, but also worse for the wear. Some of this definitely couldn't be fixed by the AFMU on my ship... assuming I got it, and its reserve power supply, to work again. The device, given its position lower in the ship, hadn't come out well from the crash.
"Well, this is... not great.", I remarked, a little despaired. But at least I wasn't stuck on a completely frozen wasteland, though I wasn't sure if an ammonia biosphere was... that much better."
At least life support remained functional, and the canopy, bar a few new scratches, was in one piece. Sensors seemed to work too, albeit limitedly, Those weren't too useful right now, though, anyway. Two more checks... vehicle bay wasn't reporting back at all. Cargo, however, still there. And, somehow, mostly undamaged. Not that the ship's food stores were there, but something else important.
"EDI... if, you can, please try to see, why something exploded, in the ship. And, why the vehicle bay does not respond.", I asked of her.
"I can provide an answer for the vehicle bay. It appears to be jammed, and likely is inaccessible until the ship is lifted off the ground.", she answered. "However, this is not possible until thrusters are repaired sufficiently to lift off again. I also am uncertain if using these vehicles in an environment such as this is wise. They are not purpose-built to resist highly corrosive substances."
"I... guess, I will, not use them, then. And... that, repair, will not happen, soon."
"I am afraid so. And I am still analyzing the cause of the internal explosion."
"Just... let me know, when you have, results."
I sighed a little more deeply, again, and began to massage the sore spots on my thighs where they'd met the instrument panels of the seat. Then, when that sensation eased, I got up, and set to inspecting the damage to the ship visually. It was evident I'd have to perform some of those repairs, by hand, before getting anywhere else. Though maybe I'd take a look around outside at some point, too.
Author's note : So, here you go. Start of my next log series - might not be so long, compared to a few of the more recent - or just previous - postings, but I'm sure the adventures of a unique - and uniquely curious - individual, on an ammonia world, will be interesting nonetheless. And sorry for not continuing the banner idea, but I was not bothered to look for the very specific world type and lighting in a very specific system, by the time I started writing. So this particular series will be going without one.