Trek Among The Derelicts (Session 5)


Jon doesn’t wait. He grins, and then he’s running, tearing down the deck toward the Delacroix’s fighter bay. I hate how much noise he’s making, but I chase after him anyway, trying to keep an eye out for any more meaty horrors like the ones we’ve already encountered. If there’s anyone, or anything, alive down here with us, it’ll hear us coming. The least I can do is try to be ready for it.

(from One Page Solo Engine)

Jon rounds the last corner before the fighter bay and shrieks. His boots squeak as he slides to a stop so fast he nearly goes tumbling. I reach for my phaser on reflex, even knowing it isn’t going to be much more than a visual deterrent, but as I reach his side, I realize that a phaser is the last thing I need.

“That must be–” Jon stutters, shaking his head. Uniformed officers lay dead everywhere. The entire average complement of the fighter bay has got to be spread out on the floor here. I count a dozen bodies, maybe more. Probably more.

Keep it together, Elara.

“They never even got a chance to take off,” Jon says. At first, I think he’s going to fall over, but he only crouches and reaches out, toward the dead officers. He’s afraid to walk up and touch them. We both are, after all that we’ve seen.

“Jon,” I touch his shoulder. “Jon, hey. Let’s go. These people are beyond our help. This whole ship is.”

That’s when the corpses start to move.

It’s only twitches at first. A finger here, the clicking of teeth there. Jon notices it before I do, and I feel him go absolutely rigid as he rises. My eyes go wide, and then one of the dead officers hoists her burnt abdomen into the air and starts to move on her bulging arms like some kind of horrific spider. That’s all it takes to get us moving. The way the dead crewman’s mouth stretches, hissing, her blind eyes rolling around in her head– it just makes us move faster.

We reach the closest fighter before the dead crewman can crabwalk over to us, and even before any of the other corpses start to rise. My security clearance as a Lieutenant Commander is high enough with the evacuation order in place to get the peregrine online, but it’s up to Jon to fly it. The engines pulse and strobe to life, and in an instant we’re off the deck, the fighter’s nose pointed at the stars.

(from prompting ChatGPT)

The instant Reed initializes the warp drive, something goes wrong. There’s a kick, and then something detonates, throwing us hard to port. Warnings flash across consoles– our warp nacelles have just gone offline, gutting themselves spectacularly and throwing burning magnetic confetti out their back ends. We’re limited to impulse and emergency batteries. Someone, probably either the Nalaraans or someone trying to keep them contained, messed with the magnetic interlocks on the nacelles. There’s no way in hell we’re getting out of here now, not with this ship.

Reed wrestles with the controls as I pull up data on the system. It’s not one I recognize, not one that’s in the database, but there’s a tiny chunk of rock close enough to crash on that has enough atmosphere to sustain us until we can figure out what our next step is. Hopefully that next step won’t be a slow death of suffocation and starving, but it’s still better than trying to survive on the ship. A quick scan gives me all the data I need to make my decision. It’s either the second planet, or it’s back to the infested ship, and that’s no choice at all to have to make.

“Reed!” I gesture out the viewscreen. “Take us in. Second planet. Pray we have enough power to get us there.”

System randomly generated on Donjon's Alien RPG system generator

Our Officer:

Lt. Commander Elara Wulfe
Red (Health): 2
Blue (Bio-Science): 3
White (Technical): 2
Green (Agility): 2
Black (Shooting): 1

PADD with Starfleet Intelligence File on it.
PADD with First Contact Protocol on it.
Box of isolinear chips
Phaser (non-functional).
A standard issue tool kit
Fusion capacitor


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