09-01-2024, 05:35 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-01-2024, 05:43 PM by Altairi Hydish.)
As a child, he'd toured the corridors of an ancient warship, a battlecruiser built at the height of Ktaris's period of pre-warp global warfare. He still had a vivid memory of the feeling that'd followed him across the upper deck, through the turret stations, and onto the bridge: a strange tug from each of the bulkheads, pulling him in all directions, all while a low drone lingered around his ears, threatening a headache as the guide led him deeper into the ship.
“Can you hear that?” He’d asked his father.
“Hear what?” Came the reply.
It was with his dive into the Omarion Nebula that Altairi finally understood what had been bothering him all those years ago. It’d been the same thing that was bothering him now.
As his hand brushed absentmindedly over the rim of an abandoned scanner station, he could sense the ghosts wandering the deck. They weren’t the ghosts of the dead– if there even were any aboard– but rather afterimages, fragments of memories that had survived centuries of neglect.
"Altairi, your first job is to try and get Life Support running properly. If memory serves it'll be on the lower deck. Sara, you'll assist him; we'll need air if we're going to work here. I also want both of you to report on the status of any cryo-pods you come across."
He turned to face Braggins, sweeping her flashlight across the cabin, a part of him thankful that she’d snapped him out of his trance.
“On it, ma’am.” He lifted his hand off the console and sent a quick nod Midshipman Kiernan’s way. “I guess you’re with me.”
The rear access hatch clattered to the floor. Altairi grimaced. He hadn’t expected it to be that heavy.
He took a moment to clip his kit to his belt, then another to peer down the ladder. Altairi bit his lip. He’d traveled down a far darker Jefferies Tube only hours earlier, but there was something uniquely spooky about the two-deck drop into a room presumably filled with ancient cryopods.
Ancient human cryopods. He brushed a hand nervously over the ridges on his forehead. They’d already caused him enough grief from the children on Ktaris…
Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up.
His hand wrapped a little too tightly around the first rung, and only a little less around the second. He could hear the ghosts getting louder.
== Tag Kiernan. So sorry about the wait ==
== GM Input: What does the team find on the lower deck? ==
“Can you hear that?” He’d asked his father.
“Hear what?” Came the reply.
It was with his dive into the Omarion Nebula that Altairi finally understood what had been bothering him all those years ago. It’d been the same thing that was bothering him now.
As his hand brushed absentmindedly over the rim of an abandoned scanner station, he could sense the ghosts wandering the deck. They weren’t the ghosts of the dead– if there even were any aboard– but rather afterimages, fragments of memories that had survived centuries of neglect.
"Altairi, your first job is to try and get Life Support running properly. If memory serves it'll be on the lower deck. Sara, you'll assist him; we'll need air if we're going to work here. I also want both of you to report on the status of any cryo-pods you come across."
He turned to face Braggins, sweeping her flashlight across the cabin, a part of him thankful that she’d snapped him out of his trance.
“On it, ma’am.” He lifted his hand off the console and sent a quick nod Midshipman Kiernan’s way. “I guess you’re with me.”
The rear access hatch clattered to the floor. Altairi grimaced. He hadn’t expected it to be that heavy.
He took a moment to clip his kit to his belt, then another to peer down the ladder. Altairi bit his lip. He’d traveled down a far darker Jefferies Tube only hours earlier, but there was something uniquely spooky about the two-deck drop into a room presumably filled with ancient cryopods.
Ancient human cryopods. He brushed a hand nervously over the ridges on his forehead. They’d already caused him enough grief from the children on Ktaris…
Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up.
His hand wrapped a little too tightly around the first rung, and only a little less around the second. He could hear the ghosts getting louder.
== Tag Kiernan. So sorry about the wait ==
== GM Input: What does the team find on the lower deck? ==