Pulse Failure - Edited 11-8-2018

Something was wrong. Really wrong. The flashing lights in my quarters were a dead giveaway on that. The alarm klaxon may have also hinted along those lines. Ship policy was to do everything in a ship--suit, so except for showering, some medical tests, and the occasional “extra-curricular” we would always be ready if an emergency occurred. Strapping on my helmet then ensuring a static and safe connection I used my neural implants to verify my immediate environment.

Name:

Jax

Danni

Build:

Engineer

Grunt

Status:

Full Suit Integrity

No Armor

Air:

120:00

External Safe

Gravity

Earth Normal

Stable

Accessories:

None

Weapons:

The status screen appeared hovering in my field of view. Standard Heads Up Display style. Good news, there weren’t any breaches and gravity is stable. It was time to earn my paycheck. Seeing as how there weren’t any announcements to abandon ship, I figured that Engineering would be the best place to get news.

“Engineering, this is Jax, I’ve just got dressed up for a night out, can you tell me a good place to find a date?”

“Jax, good to hear from you. You in your berth?”

“Roger that, no one worth getting in trouble with. Seeing as how you are asking where I am,” I popped the door from my berth to witness the controlled chaos of DC drills, “Can you tell me where I’m needed? Lots of chickens, few heads attached from my POV.”

“We need people in the Thorium reactor at UP-5-Port, Fore of frame 20, or at the starboard engine array, you’re first to call in, so the choice is yours.”

The disadvantage of all engineering berths being “centrally” located is that there were almost too many areas we could report to for our Damage Control teams. Seeing as how those of us still aware are also military, it means we can get plugged into any DC team at any time, as well.

“Let the DC teams know I’m 180 out from the star-drives. Jax OUT!”

I grabbed a toolkit from the storage locker outside my cabin and attached it to my utility belt, then turned and started to jog. You don’t run on a ship unless the shit is seriously hitting the fan. By the sounds of things, there was a failure somewhere that caused a power spike that knocked a relay out, which, in turn, started a cascading feedback surge that took out at least one of the Thorium generators as well as some of our engines. The lifts would still be working, but I hit the ladder well to save some time.

Two and a half minutes, three decks and a half kilometer later, I arrived at the corner to see a hatch launched from the Engine room which turned a damage control team into jelly; then the concussive force knocked me on my ass as a fireball erupted from what used to be a viable engine room. I came to a few(?) seconds later with the alarms in my helmet screaming at me, feeling like I just woke up from a month-long bender in Tijuana.

My HUD flashed an alert to check my suit status, which was now flashing red with a notice of “Integrity failed - Multiple breaches detected.”

My air was going down fast, too fast. I saw it fall almost four seconds for every one that passed in actual time. I needed to start patching everything I could find. The crack in my helmet would be an excellent place to start. The problem was I couldn’t feel it with my gloves on, and with the fire suppression activities, I could risk opening any new breaches. I grabbed the MK-1 Scanning Utility from my belt and started to pull up the information that was detected. That’s when I noticed my left arm wasn’t working and the pain started.

“Engineering, Jax! We have a big problem. The DC is down, repeat the DC TEAM IS DOWN! I got here just in time to see the pressure doors vaporize them! I’m also going to need a medic for me and some more help down here so we can un-fuck this! Fire suppression is active, and I have multiple breaches in my suit!”

The Scantron beeped at me. That was five failures that will kill me in less than 113 minutes. I started to stand up, grateful that my boots had mag-locked me to the deck, so I didn’t go ballistic. Bad move, the air counter plummeted. I must have torn the ass out of my suit as the blast pushed me along the deck.

“I’m headed to the nearest air shelter, so I can patch my suit!”

The emergency “shelter” more closely resembled a “tent” with air tanks that could be set up anywhere a seal could be made. The nearest was in a cabinet to my left. A large chunk of shredded bulkhead had bent the cabinet into what could only barely be considered a “non-fused” state. There was a sizable chance I would be responsible for cutting out and testing the shelter once this clusterfuck was resolved. The nearest one I could trust was 100 meters further back the way I came.

I popped the locker and pulled the shelter out connecting it to the ceiling immediately, that way I could be out of the direct path of the DC teams, glad that an engineer had designed this all to be handled with only one arm. As the tent was sealing itself to the ceiling, I grabbed the med kit from the emergency cabinet and attached it to my belt as well. I then grabbed a second patch kit and started to work my way into the shelter. Getting into the tent was not designed with that same foresight, and I was almost forced to empty my stomach from the pain as I had to seal in the outer door while pushing oxygen into the shelter primary. 76:12 was the reading on my air status when everything equalized, and I could start removing my suit to patch it, but first, what the fuck is wrong with my arm?

The medkit had a bio-scanner MK-2 that told me that not only was my shoulder dislocated, but so was my elbow. I was also supposed to check into medical for a neural trauma test, but what would the docs tell me? “Looks like you hit your head hard enough to break your helmet. You might have a concussion.” Seriously. What can I say, I’m gifted. Following the “quick fix” guides that were uploaded from the ship through my Neural link, I was able to get my elbow back into joint. After that, I didn’t even try with my shoulder. When I came to from passing out, I noted someone had entered the shelter, thrown up, and left. That was my story anyway. The saving grace was that the med kit also had some sensory inhibitors so I could ignore the pain… which I didn’t see until after when I was looking for a way to make a sling or something else to keep my arm immobilized.

Fifteen minutes of work after that, and an O2 recharge later, I was collapsing the emergency shelter entrance so I could meet up with the next DC team. My status had restored itself partially and was in the yellow. A friendly notice of “replace immediately” was in the status to taunt me because field repairs were never as good as a new item.

My HUD was showing that my status was still “iffy,” but I could work with that. Grabbing my tools and the patch kits, me and my now silver patched ship suit (duct tape works for everything) headed back to the engine compartment. While heading back to the compartment, I was grateful to see that there were no active fires. NextGen fire suppression systems for the win!

“Engineering, Jax here. I haven’t heard back from you in a few. What’s the status on the new DC team and my pecker checker?”

Nothing. Shit.

“Medical, this is Jax, do you read me?”

More shit.

“Bridge?” Well, this cluster just seriously upgraded to FUBAR straight past SNAFU.

I headed into the engine rooms, and past a few floating and congealed globes of what appears to be a mix of blood and a fire retardant. Floating in the null gravity was what seemed to be a ring finger sans glove (but with the wedding band still attached). I was not ready for the carnage that I saw, if carnage is even the right word for the machine equivalent of a bloodbath. Okay, priorities.

Get gravity reset Purge the toxins from the fire suppression system and flood with air Check for hot spots Re-establish contact with the ship Sleep A lot of other steps because I hate going to medical

Maybe I should swap 2 and 3 around. And move 4 to the top. I should also not put off going to medical, but that was up for debate if there were still pain inhibitors.

Heading towards the primary engineering console which appeared to survive magically, I started seeing the shadows move. Not moving in the same way that they would flicker from a fire, but they seemed to be getting darker, denser, and figures or shapes were appearing in them and moving. It was probably just the head trauma making itself known. I passed to the other side of the engineering console, the system wasn’t acting like a system.

“Rasputin, you there?” I asked the ship AI through the local channels

“Jax? Are you calling from the engine room? I am not detecting your life sign on board.”

That was a bit disconcerting

“Yeah, Rassie, I’m here. Showed up just as the room went “boom” and got knocked on my ass. Do you have contact with the rest of the ship? We need to get a second DC team here. The first ended up as a smear.”

“What are you talking about? The second team is already in the engine room.”

“Not a good time for you to work on your humor Ras. I have minor-ish head trauma and a dislocated shoulder.”

“Jax, your life sign is not on board. Petty Officer Torres is in the engine room with her team. There is no sign of you, other than me registering that this communication is originating from the Engine Room Torres is in.”

Then the next explosion happened. Well, I’m calling it an “explosion”. What it the closest comparison is was every atom in your body shitting itself. My scream was promptly interrupted when my I threw up. In my helmet. There wasn’t even anyone else around that I could say did it. Then I fell about five feet and landing with the engineering console in my left side. Yes, IN. I promptly threw up and passed out, again.

Pulse Failure - Original

Something was wrong. Really wrong. The flashing lights in my quarters were a dead give away on that. The alarm klaxon may have also hinted along those lines. Ship policy was to do everything in a ships suit, so except for showering, certain medical tests, and some “extra-curriculars” we would always be ready if an emergency occurred. Strapping on my gloves and helmet then ensuring a static and safe connection I used my neural implants to pull up what I could

Name:

Jax

Danni

Build:

Engineer

Grunt

Status:

Full Suit Integrity

No Armor

Air:

120:00

External Safe

Gravity

Earth Normal

Stable

Accessories:

None

Weapons:

The status screen appeared hovering in my field of view. Standard Heads Up Display style. Good news, there didn’t appear to be any breaches. Time to earn my paycheck. Seeing as how there weren’t any announcements to abandon ship, I figured Engineering would be the best place to get news.

“Engineering, this is Jax, I’ve just got dressed up for a night out, can you tell me a good place to find a date?”

“Jax, good to hear from you. You in your berth?”

“Roger that, no signs of a 50k AU hookup yet. Seeing as how you are asking where I am,” I popped the door from my berth to witness the controlled chaos, “Can you tell me where I’m needed? Lots of chickens, few heads attached from my POV.”

“We need people in the Thorium reactor at UP-5-Port, or at the starboard engine array, you’re first to call in so you get first pick.”

The disadvantage of all engineers being “centrally” located is that there were many areas we could report to for our Damage Control teams. Seeing as how most of us are also military, it means we can get plugged into any DC team at any time, as well.

“Let the DC teams know I’m 180 out from the star-drives. Jax OUT!”

I grabbed a tool kit from the storage locker outside my cabin and attached it to my utility belt, then turned and started to jog. You don’t run on a ship unless the shit is hitting the fan. By the sounds of things there was a failure somewhere causing a power spike that knocked a relay out, in turn causing a cascading feedback surge that took out at least one of the Thorium generators as well as some of our engines. The lifts would still be working but I hit the ladder well to be quicker.

156 seconds, three decks and a half kilometer later, I turned the corner to see the doors shoot out from the Engine room and turning my damage control team into jelly, then the concussive force knocked me on my ass as a fireball erupted from what used to be a viable engine room. I came to a few(?) seconds later with the alarms in my helmet screaming at me, feeling like I just woke up from a month-long bender in Tijuana.

My status had started flashing red with a notice of “Integrity failed - Multiple breaches detected”

My air was going down too fast. I saw it fall almost four seconds for every one that passed in actual time. I needed to start patching everything I could find. The crack in my helmet being the obvious place to start. The problem was I couldn’t feel it with my gloves on, and with the fire suppression active, I could risk opening any new breaches. I grabbed the MK-1 Scanning Utility from my belt and started to pull up what I could. That’s when I noticed my left arm wasn’t working and the pain started.

“Engineering, Jax! We have a big problem. The DC is down, repeat the DC IS DOWN! I turned the corner just in time to see the pressure doors vaporize them! I’m also going to need a medic for me and some more help down here, so we can un-fuck this! Fire suppression is active, and I have multiple breaches in my suit!”

The Scantron beeped at me. Five failures that will kill me in 113 minutes. I started to stand up, grateful that my boots had mag-locked me to the deck, so I didn’t go ballistic. Bad move, the air counter started to plummet. I must have torn the ass out of my suit as the blast pushed me on the ground.

“I’m headed to the nearest air shelter so I can patch my suit!”

The emergency “shelter” could loosely be called a “tent” with air tanks that could be set up anywhere a seal could be made. The nearest was in a cabinet to my left. A large chunk of bulkhead had bent the cabinet to what could only barely be considered a “non-fused” state. I would probably responsible for cutting it out and testing it once this clusterfuck was resolved. The nearest one I could trust was 100 meters further back the way I came.

I popped the locker and pulled the shelter out connecting it to the ceiling immediately, that way I could be out of the direct path of the DC teams, glad that an engineer had designed this all to be handled with only one arm. As the tent was sealing itself to the ceiling, I grabbed the med kit from the emergency cabinet and attached it to my belt as well. I then grabbed a second patch kit and started to work my way into the shelter. Unfortunately, getting into the shelter was not designed to do one handed, and I was almost forced to empty my stomach from the pain as I had to seal in the outer door while pushing oxygen into the shelter primary. 76:12 was the reading on my air status when everything equalized, and I could start removing my suit to patch it, but first, what the fuck is wrong with my arm?

The med kit had a bio-scanner MK-2 that told me that not only was my shoulder dislocated, but so was my elbow. I was also supposed to check into medical for a neural trauma test, but what would they tell me? “Looks like you hit your head hard enough to break your helmet.” Seriously. What can I say, I’m gifted. Following the “quick fix” guides that were uploaded from the ship through my neural link, I was able to get my elbow back into joint. After that I didn’t even try with my shoulder. Also, I am not afraid to admit, that time I did throw up. The saving grace was that the med kit also had some sensory inhibitors, so I could ignore the pain… which I didn’t see until after, when I was looking for a way to make a sling to keep my arm immobilized.

Fifteen minutes and an O2 recharge later, I was collapsing the emergency shelter entrance, so I could get to work. My status had restored itself partially and was in the yellow. A nice notice of “replace immediately” to taunt me because field repairs were never as good as a new item.

My HUD was showing that my status was still “iffy”, but I could work with “iffy”. Grabbing my tools and the patch kits, along with my now silver patched ship suit (duct tape woks for everything).

Heading back to the engine room, I was grateful to see that there were no active fires. Next Gen fire suppression systems for the win!

“Engineering, Jax here. I haven’t heard back from you in a few. What’s the status on the new DC team and my pecker checker?”

Nothing. Shit.

“Medical, this is Jax, do you read me?”

More shit.

“Bridge?” Well, this cluster just seriously upgraded to FUBAR straight past SNAFU.

Headed into the engine rooms, and past a few floating and congealed globes of what must be a mix of blood and a fire retardant, as well as what appeared to be a ring finger sans glove (but with the wedding band still attached), I was not ready for the carnage that I saw. If carnage is even the right word for the machine equivalent of a blood bath. Okay, priorities.

Get gravity reset Purge the toxins from the fire suppression system and flood with air Check for hot spots Re-establish contact with the ship Sleep A lot of other steps because I hate going to medical

Maybe I should swap 2 and 3 around. And move 4 to the top. I should also not put off going to medical but sue me.

Heading towards the primary engineering console which appeared to magically survive, I started seeing the shadows move. Not moving in the same way that they would flicker from a fire, but they seemed to be getting darker, and figures or shapes were appearing in them and moving. Maybe that was the head trauma talking. Passing to the other side of the engineering console, the system wasn’t acting like a system.

“Rasputin, you there?” I asked the ship AI through the local channels

“Jax? You are calling from the engine room? I am not detecting your life sign on board.”

That was a bit disconcerting

“Yeah, Rassie, I’m here. Showed up just as the room went “boom” and got knocked on my ass. Do you have contact with the rest of the ship? We need to get a second DC team here. The first ended up as a smear.”

“What are you talking about? The second team is already in the engine room.”

“Not a good time for you to work on your humor Ras. I have minor-ish head trauma and a dislocated shoulder.”

“Seriously, Jax, your life sign is not on board. Petty Officer Torres is in the engine room with her team. There is no sign of you.”

Then the next explosion happened. Well, is it really an explosion when it’s just every atom in your body shitting itself?

My scream was promptly interrupted when I threw up. In my helmet. Then I fell about five feet and landing on the engineering console, on my left side, then threw up again and passed out.