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Thread: Star Trek RPG - Mission #6: "Marala"

  1. #101
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    "Great!" Pru says. "Good for you, Mr., uh, Rangin. Come on over here, would you? Everyone else, please line up behind him, wherever you want. If you know you want to dive just after or just before someone else, take that place in line."

    Rangin goes over to Pru, and Mahmoud starts clomping towards them. After a moment, Park and Gral do the same.

    Pru guides Rangin over to the edge of the porch. She says to the crowd, "I'll turn off each of your boot magnets in turn, and then give you a push off the station. Your retros will fire just after that, and you'll pull less than a G and feel some pressure at your back for ten seconds as you accelerate. If you're not looking at the station, your forward momentum will be almost imperceptible at first. Ready, Mr. Rangin?"

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    Pausing to catch her breath, Nia tosses a good-natured, triumphant smile at Luisa, then nods to the waterfall. "That was worth the run." Her gaze settles on the lake. If there are any boats for rent, she'll make the suggestion that they hire one and paddle around for a bit.

    If not, maybe they can check out the waterfall and see what its source is. Nia's a good climber--all her people are, since most of Sidonia's habitable land consists of sand and rocks--and she'd enjoy trying to scale any hill or safe cliff area to get to the top and see what's up there.

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    What the fuck is Ranging doing here? Graham wonders. Advising Pru to also turn off his life support and thrusters in addition to the boot magnets comes to mind, but he keeps that to himself and more or less accepts whatever place in line he gets by the movement of the others and Pru's direction.

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    Kylah blinks at Mr. Rangin's initiative, uncertain what to think. Part of her wants to shove him bodily off the station herself; another, smaller part wants to grab his hand and beg him not to be foolhardy. She does not know which impulse she despises more.

    She tries to ignore him entirely and think of her own choices. Her mouth is so terribly dry, she wishes she had some water. Calculating the options, Kylah inhales raggedly and turns to Mr. Graham.

    "If it is all right, I would like to go before you, sir," she says quietly. "I fear I might back out if everyone I know has already... gone." She steps awkwardly in front of him, keeping her gaze on his as long as possible until she must turn around and face the unfathomable emptiness ahead.

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    Rangin looks out from the edge towards the planet. The anticipation of the jump begins to build and he can feel the relaxed smile turning into a fixed grin of excitement.

    Oh this is going to be so much fun... certainly the longest fall he has done and hopefully with less impact or injury than others. He can feel himself becoming almost giddy and he brings himself into focusing on Pru. Any thought about those behind him pushed to one side as he looks ahead.

    "Ok. Let's do this." he says with a steady voice as he prepares for the boots to release and the gentle nudge into space.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    Onn does not see any boats for rent. The waterfall, which is not quite 20 meters tall, emerges from a steep, rocky, tree-topped hillside which rises above the lake.

    Pru says, "OK, here you go." Rangin feels his boots detach from the porch, and the faint sensation of Pru's gloved hands as she pushes him away. In a few moments, his divesuit's backback retros fire and he begins to ease away from the space station. The outer ring of the station passes below and then drops behind him. The retros cut off again, exactly ten seconds later, and there is now nothing beneath him but the starry black vastness of space. The planet fills the sky above him. In a few moments he notices the running lights of at least two orbiting starships ahead, still tiny in his field of vision.

    Mahmoud and Park each then step up and push off, with Pru's help. Gral is next. The sole civilian gestures for Kylah to go ahead of him. "You can go next, if you like, miss," he says, his voice a little squeaky with nervousness.

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    With a tight little nod, Kylah steps ahead. But she looks at the stranger and says, very quietly, "You do not have to do this. I am sure it will be safe, but there is nothing wrong with choosing to cancel."

    She swallows and gives one last glance toward Mr. Graham. "Good luck, sir, and thank you," she whispers, her eyes wide and grateful, just in case she... in case something goes wrong. Then she turns and, light-headed, somehow forces out an "I am ready" to the older woman.

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    Nia is disappointed about the lack of boats--she loves sailing, as it constitutes an ideal combination of skill and pleasure. But some more arduous physical activity will be fun, too. Another competitive smile lights up her face. "So... fancy a little climbing? It's steep but doesn't look insurmountable... and maybe if we go far enough around, we'll find an easier route. What do you say, Lu?"

    She takes another measure of the hill, curious and excited to see the river that produces such a lovely waterfall. After a moment she returns to give her friend the same scrutiny. Luisa's good nature and willingness to please sometimes makes her avoid coming up with her own ideas. Might be a result of the difference in their ranks, but that seems silly to Nia. When off-duty, she and Lu are equals as far as Nia's concerned.

    "On the other hand," she says with an affable shrug, "if you've got a better suggestion for activity--even if you just wanna lie in the grass and look at pictures in the clouds--lemme hear it. I'm up for anything, as at least half the crew knows." Nia grins in encouragement.

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    Graham nods at Kylah, the fact that she's willing to go throgh with it helping to calm him down...or at least convince him not to bag out.

    He lean toward the obviously frightened guy now behind Kylah and says in a low voice "Look, I've fought Klingons hand-to-hand a dozen times, and heights scare me shitless. There's no shame if this isn't your thing. Do it if you want to."

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    "I know," the nervous civilian says. "Thanks. But... uh, I promised myself I'd do this."

    Gral is next off the station. Then Kylah, and the civilian, followed by Graham. Xiang and then Johnson step into place. Each of you, as the retrorockets kick in for a ten-second burn, see the station drop behind you and Beta Antares IV looming huge in the sky above. It is an amazing sight.

    Guzman says, "No, that sounds good - a climb would be fine." After a little looking, you find a steep gravel path off to the left and up the hill.

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    Kylah feels her stomach plummet even as she appears to be rising, rather than falling, toward the planet. Why am I doing this? This is madness!

    Heart pounding faster, she must force herself not to flail her limbs in a hopeless effort to resist the inevitable and return to the station--like a traumatized animal desperate to get back into its cage. All sorts of regrets flood her mind, including the realization that she could have begged off from this whole thing due to having only just recovered from a pretty serious stab wound.

    But it is too late for that. She focuses instead on craning her neck to locate any of the other divers. Though they will be too far for her to cling to physically, she instinctively seeks out someone who is calm or even elated--any comforting emotion to which she can connect.

    The vastness of the planet, of space itself, is incomprehensible. They are all so small out here, so insignificant. Everything is insignificant. Nothing matters up here, she thinks with a glance up--down--do directions even matter?--at BAIV. My life means nothing. My past means nothing. It is true. Nothing that happened to her, to anyone really, bears even an iota of significance when placed in the perspective of the infinity surrounding them all.

    Kylah blinks and takes deep breaths, noticing that her heart rate has decreased a tiny bit. Something about this thought--that neither her seemingly nonstop traumas nor the dilemmas of her conflicting loyalties that plague her, are even a measurable part of the massive universe--is calming her.

    She closes her eyes for a few seconds. Instead of ignoring or fighting her physical sensations, she gives in to them. It is normal for adrenaline to race, for the heart to pump faster, for her lungs to expand more rapidly for air. That happens not just from fear, but excitement as well.

    Eyes open again, Kylah stares at the planet. I am not falling into an abyss. I am racing toward the future. It might be better than where I am now.

    It has to be.

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    The hillside path seems just steep enough to give Nia a hint of a challenge, but otherwise it's a pleasant climb. She starts a mindless chat with Luisa to catch her up on the last mission--they've shared Bridge duty since the whole CAG kidnapping case was closed, but that's hardly been the best place to gossip about the sillier aspects of the landing party's efforts.

    "And I swear," she says with a laugh as they near the top, "the hubris and condescension of the males down there makes Vargas seem positively humble, no joke. I was tempted to stun every guy I met, just to avoid hearing 'dollface' one more time..." Nia pauses, having reached the crest of the hill.

    Her free hand rests on her hips and she gazes at her surroundings, focusing on the rushing path of the river in its joyous, heedless race toward the cliff's edge. It is, as always, mesmerizing. "What'd'ya think, Lu?" she says softly. "Worth the trip?"

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    Don't puke in the suit, Book

    He can almost hear Nia saying that, and there's a little bit of comfort in that.

    And then there's a whole lot of frigging freaking nothing beneath him...

    He realizes that he hasn't been scared since he was a kid. For sure, he's felt fear - the fear of failing his wife, his daughter, or letting down his team - but hasn't been scared like "shit, I'm scared."

    Maybe this is a good reminder. Maybe this is something I needed.

    Maybe I'm gonna puke in the suit...

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    Soon everyone is off the station and moving forward; Pru is the last in line. "Everybody's doing great!" she says encouragingly over the common circuit.

    Rangin is the first to watch the two lights ahead take on additional form and heft, becoming clearer with each passing second. Soon he sees that they are the Yorktown and a small freighter. They are on his right as he passes, like toys just out of reach. He can see his ship's running lights, primary and secondary hulls and warp nacelles very distinctly, and even read "U.S.S. YORKTOWN / NCC-1717" boldly inscribed on the upper primary hull. Each of those trailing him in the line of orbital skydivers also sees the starships, one large, one small, as they pass in turn. Kylah remembers from the Beta Antares IV traffic-control communications log the day before that the freighter is the Manitou, out of Karshan VI, although she cannot see its registry markings from here.

    Guzman laughs and says, "I admire your restraint, Nia. I guess Iotia's not really the place to go for a gender-neutral society, huh?" She pauses to take in and admire the view, too. The hill on which both women stand forms most of one edge of the park, and is evidently part of a line of hills that extend through the city of Holloway, rising in the distance to a mountain range. The taller peaks there are sharp-edged and snow-capped.
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 30 May 2017 at 03:22 PM.

  15. #115
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    Everybody's not fucking doing OK, Graham thinks in response to Pru's chipper comment.

    But looking at the Yorktown helps calm him down. Gives you perspective on the ship, maneuvers, shields, damage control... He wonders--seriously--what Nia would have to say looking at the same scene.

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    Kylah shakes her head at the sight of her home for the past few months: a massive, Constitution-class ship, turned so tiny. And in their eyes, the skydivers must seem microscopic--if they register at all to the Yorktown.

    To occupy her and avoid thinking about the potential danger ahead, she tries to remember anything she can about the Manitou, or even Karshan VI. The planet does not ring a bell immediately, and she barely recalls anything the freighter transmitted.

    Communication can be so impersonal. But sometimes even mundane, factual messages may say more than their sender realizes.

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    As Graham's gaze drifts from the Yorktown his stomach churns.

    OK get on the clock, focus on the job not the...drop...


    He takes stock of where people are...Kylah, Mahmoud...even Rangin.

    If shit went bad right now, what would you do?

    If you were training cadets for this kind of situation, what would you say?

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    Kylah seems to recall that the Manitou is carrying a cargo of rice or the like; Karshan VI is a relatively large farming colony.

    The skydivers continue past the two starships, which soon drop behind. Each of you is close enough to see the divers just ahead of and just behind you, small enough that they can easily be obscured from view with an outstretched hand. The rest are too far distant. The planet is looming larger and larger overhead. You can easily see continents, oceans, and several of the larger islands and weather patterns. Graham sees what he thinks must be a large storm or typhoon, far out at sea.

    Pru says, "Some people like to orient themselves so that the planet appears below and not above them, but it's up to you. Like we talked about before, just use the joystick for your retros if you want to turn. Easy does it."

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    Graham's momentarily distracted by the comment "just use the joystick for your retros," which evokes something Nia might say when she was in a...mischievious...mood.

    He gently tries to get used to the controls to follow either Pru or Mahmoud (whichever seems more feasible) on the assumption they know what they are doing.

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    Nia admires the distant mountains. "Whoa. Now that's something I'd like to try someday," she says with a nod in their direction. "Ski, I mean. I can't even fathom what it's like. I love snow, but... well, you know me, my body considers anything colder than 'slightly brisk' a sub-optimal situation. Sure, I've skated a couple times--indoors--but... damn, rushing down a mountain seems like it'd be fun. Maybe someday." Is Booker the skiing type? Can't quite picture that, but I'd like to...

    Turning to her friend, she lifts her eyebrows. "What about you, Lu? Do you ski? And what's on your 'haven't done but wanna do' list?"

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    Obeying Pru's tacit recommendation, Kylah bites her lips and slowly uses the joystick. Aside from the Academy she has no hands-on experience with such technical procedures, as minor as this one is. As gentle as she is, and as incremental as the movement probably is, she starts panicking when her visual orientation changes and a little dizziness triggers some panic.

    Somehow she gets her breathing in control, from shallow to deep, and by the time she finishes the process, she is calm again. She stares at the storms and clouds of the planet now below her. It strikes her that she does not know where they are landing... or at least, she cannot remember the details. Her lips part to ask the question, but she cuts herself off. Everyone can hear her, and she does not want the rest--especially Mr. Rangin--to know she did not pay enough attention.

    The public nature of the inter-suit communication also means she cannot reassure herself that Mr. Graham is all right. Her empathic abilities are next to useless at this distance, especially with the others around, so she cannot even check on his emotions privately. Perhaps if she could hear his voice...? She makes a decision that will require some guessing--and might kill two birds with one stone.

    "It is good that we will not be landing near that inclement weather system," Kylah begins, her own voice disconcertingly thready and weak. She strengthens it as she continues: "Is it not, Mr. Graham?"

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    Graham quickly gets the hang of the retro controls. Does he reorient himself so that the planet is "below" him?

    Guzman says, "I've skiied a couple of times and never broke anything, but I don't really care for it. Swimming or running are more to my tastes. As for what I haven't done but wanna someday...." She thinks a moment. "Um, parasailing and maybe luging, if truth be told." She laughs. "If I ever get that crazy."

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    Kylah's voice disabuses Graham of the notion to request a beam out right now, having done enough falling...er, up...

    I got her into this, after all...

    He gingerly tries to adjust his orientation so the planet appears below rather than above him.

    "Ah...I'm sure it's so far away we couldn't get there if we tried," Graham replies, trying to sound as confident and reassuring as possible despite his queasy stomach. "It's a...um, well, can't deny it's an impressive view, right?"



    Still terrifying, less weird, he thinks.

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    Kylah nods at Mr. Graham's words. Then, only a few seconds later, she realizes he cannot possibly have seen her. "Yes," she says, staring at the larger and larger features of the world beneath them. "It--it is strange to think what we will look like to anyone watching. I would find it alarming to notice objects falling from the sky before I could recognize them."

    Since the organizer does not seem to have taken her hint, Kylah gives in and ignores her pride. "Ma'am--Ms. Pru--if you told us, I do not remember: where will we be landing? Will we be near a city? Near unpopulated territory?" Near a hospital? she thinks with a combination of hope and pessimism.
    Last edited by choie; 08 Jun 2017 at 05:29 PM.

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    Pru says, "On our current trajectory, we'll all land on the eastern prairies of Barton, a major continent. Lots of empty land there. You can select a different touchdown site with your retros, though, and we'll beam you back up from just about anywhere."

    The world seems to be turning a little more quickly now as you go lower.

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    "I do not know the planet well enough to choose somewhere else," Kylah says weakly. She wonders if her air supply is working correctly, because her breathing feels more labored. But they would know if there were a malfunction, surely. Breathe deeper, she commands herself. Slow down. Breathe in for four seconds. Hold it for four. Then exhale for eight.

    All the breathing in the world will not stop the planet from speeding closer. Why is this supposed to be enjoyable? It is just falling--something normal people try to prevent.

    Others find it exhilarating. Why? The most exhilarating activity Kylah remembers is riding on her claarion, an equine-like animal back on Elas, and that was from the sense of being both in partial control of an animal yet also at its mercy, for it could have easily thrown her off if it chose to--but it did not, and this partnership was thrilling.

    More recently, there was that time at the Academy... one of the few enjoyable days she had there... when Kylah's roommate persuaded her to learn to ride a bicycle. It took awhile, but she eventually managed not to scrape her knees every five feet. Since this was San Francisco, she encountered many hills, and one giant one found her nearly vertical--or so it seemed--as she zoomed downward, terrified yet, somehow, elated. The wind forced her hair from its clasp and the curly mass flew out behind her, trailing like streamers. It had been glorious.

    This is not like that, she thinks now. Not just because there is neither beast nor bicycle safely beneath her. But there is no sense of speed other than the visual proof of Beta Antares moving ever closer. There is no resistance now, and thanks to their suits and helmets even when they reach the innermost layer of the planet's atmosphere they will be protected from everything--even from the rush that might, just might, be exciting after all.

    "Pru," she says again. "When we are closer to the planet, will we... Do the helmets open, at all? I think..." She looks down at the clouds and blue sky, and remembers that steep hill. "I would like to feel the wind against my face."
    Last edited by choie; 12 Jun 2017 at 03:22 AM.

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    Pru replies, "Your suit's built-in barometer will show you when there's enough air outside to breathe. I wouldn't recommend opening your helmet visor much more than a minute or two before you touch down, though - you could get windburn."

    One by one, you steadily fall towards the planet.

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    Graham closes his eyes for a moment (which makes him feel better - without the visual cues the low G environment doesn't feel so bad).

    Would Lizzy like this?

    He sort of assumes she wouldn't, because of his own squeamishness...but what if she loved it?

    What if she was by his side...smiling, eyes wide, overjoyed to experience this...?

    For a moment he lets that possibility exist and one hand extends unconsciously....

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    Kylah blinks as Pru's words sink in. Wind burn? How fast does that mean we will be going, so late in the dive? "One or two minutes?" she blurts, her hand jerking instinctively toward the area on her suit where she believes the parachute is stored--though of course, she knows not to deploy it herself. "That seems such a short time to slow down before we land. I thought it would be a more gradual process. What about the--the--"

    Thanks to her renewed alarm, she is mentally struggling to recall the most basic elements of physics. The knowledge that Ensign Rangin is listening, and probably silently deriding her scientific ignorance, does not help.

    Suddenly her brain unfreezes and supplies the correct term. "The g-force," she exhales. "How much pressure will it exert on us? Going from terminal velocity to a halt... Will it be very uncomfortable? How much will our suits help?" Her voice softens. "I just thought we would have more time, floating..."

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    Pru says, "You'll pull a little over two gees at most; it's not too bad. The suits have built-in inertial dampers. And as I said, the whole dive takes about an hour, from leaving the station to touchdown. Enjoy the view up here while you can."

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    Inhaling deeply to relish the scent of damp, wet grass, Nia nods thoughtfully at Luisa's response and tries to remember just what the hell 'luging' is. It's probably a winter sport given the context. And she vaguely recalls hearing the word before, in some conversation with someone, who was it again? Lars, maybe?

    Yep, even though it was ages ago, Nia's pretty sure she remembers the attractive Lt. Dahlquist mentioning his homeland back on Earth, and the activities he most enjoyed... outdoors, anyway. Who's he with now? Hayes, isn't it?

    Then, with a tiny shake of her head, she decides to stop reminiscing and guessing and just ask the damn question. "Um, is 'luging' the thing that's like... a scaled-down version of bobsledding?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 13 Jun 2017 at 01:04 AM.

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    Guzman nods. "Kind of, yes. There's one- and two-person luging, I think. It's more dangerous than bobsledding, I think, because you're more exposed, but it looks exciting. I might never do it, but who knows?"

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    Kylah does her best to ignore her doubts and enjoy the view, as Pru suggests. The Yorktown is incredibly small from here, with the other ship even tinier. Her eyes scan for anything else that might capture her interest. The truth is, the sights are not much different from those she would see from any of the observation windows on the ship. Except that she is 1000% more vulnerable and exposed. She suspects she might like her surroundings with the safety of a tether linking her to the station.

    Swallowing back her regret, she tries to locate each of her fellow divers, wondering how they are doing.

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    By looking carefully, Kylah can see the divers just ahead and just behind her. The rest are beyond her field of vision. The arc of Beta Antares IV seems to be flattening as her trajectory carries a little lower as time passes. Pru says over the open channel, "Remember, when you start to feel some real chop from atmospheric entry, your best bet is to turn your back to the planet and curl up. The ablative armor of your suit and backpack are strongest in back. Once you emerge into open skies, turn around again and enjoy the view!"

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    Not certain how bad the "chop" will be, Kylah girds herself for the worst by clenching her jaw, tight enough to cause a dull pain in her temples. She hopes Mr. Graham is all right. She hopes all of them are all right--even Mr. Rangin. If I am injured, will he care? Or will he just think of it as yet another inevitable failure?

    Then there is the other judgmental man in her life. The thought of how Uncle Aldaan might react if she is hurt because of this pointless, reckless exercise frightens her almost as much as an accident would.

    She wishes she could talk to Mr. Graham privately. Velir's voice used to calm her; now Mr. Graham--despite how much Kylah used to fear him--offers her some of the comfort that Velir once did... though not in the same way, of course.

    Still trying to slow her breathing, and hoping to distract herself from her fears, Kylah focuses on the increasingly large planet surface and tries to see more detail.

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    "Who knows," Nia says, echoing Luisa's words in an attempt to sound wise. She plunks herself down on the grass by the riverbank, leaning back on her arms and letting her fingers curl around the soft, damp blades of grass as if it's the hair of a lover. "I hope you get the chance. It'll probably be ages until we find a planet with that sort of weather, much less actual luging facilities." Her hands tingle with pleasure at the cool wetness beneath them. "But this is mighty nice, right here."

    For a few moments, she lets herself bask in sensory delight of the river and the land surrounding it. Truth is, sometimes it's hard to maintain a conversation with Luisa, and Nia's not entirely sure why. Maybe 'cause I'm doing most of the heavy lifting here. Girl could ask me a question or two.

    Well, not everyone's gifted with curiosity. Maybe it's the difference between navigators and pilots. In her experience, most navigators live by their charts and maps; they guide ships by knowing precisely where to go, preferring to plot everything in advance whenever possible (not that it always is).

    Pilots--at least, those like Nia--delight in discovering new, untraveled routes. For her, that instinct for exploration translates well to her fascination in other people. To get to know someone, you have to steer through safe boundaries and avoid obstacles as random and unpredictable...and sometimes, as dangerous...as any asteroid field.

    Wonder if that's why Cece never quite closed the deal with Booker. Assuming she really wanted him, but Nia's pretty good at sensing sexual vibes, and Cecilia Bennett's vibes were, well, vibing like crazy whenever Booker Graham came into her path. I bet he was drawn to her too--she's hot enough, and he's a guy with eyesight, so... yeah. Nia frowns slightly, not upset by the direction of her thoughts but just trying to puzzle things out. He's a complicated guy. Rough-edged, sometimes. Was he just not smooth enough, easy enough for her? Would breaking up with--shit, what's his name?--her boyfriend have been too messy?

    "Lu," she begins, lazily watching the foamy water disappear from view as it leaps off the edge of the cliff. "What've you heard about Cece lately? You navs have a gossip mill just like the engies and redshirts. Things still tight between her and whatsisname, the boyfriend?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 23 Jun 2017 at 01:57 PM.

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    Thinking about the various properties of body armor is oddly comforting to Graham.

    Angle of approach can save your ass, he thinks, momentarily distracted from the fall.

    It makes the perky tour guide that much more attractive...

    [I]Well, even if she were interested in somebody old enough to be her father, I don't think Nia would really appreciate that...[I]

    The thought of Nia's...assets...is also a welcome distraction.

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    Several more minutes pass, and Rangin begins feeling the first wispy presence of the planet's upper atmosphere. The horizon is perceptibly flattening with each passing minute. His dive becomes a little bumpy, and then bumpier still. Each of those following him begin feeling the same turbulence in turn. "Here we go," says Pru. "Enjoy the ride! Communications may get fuzzy, but usually not for more than a minute or two."

    Kylah can see, in greater detail, mountain ranges, oceans, islands and weather patterns below. She is still too high to see anything put there by its inhabitants.

    Guzman says, "She doesn't really confide in me, but I hear she and Matthew broke up a few weeks back. They were really close for awhile but it... well, I shouldn't say. But I hear she's better off without him. Right now I think she's unattached." She stretches contentedly on the grass. "How about you? Anybody plucking your heartstrings lately?"

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    At the first jolt, Kylah's heart stops and for a few panicking seconds, she forgets whatever instructions Pru gave her. She gasps an inward breath and holds it, her muscles clenched tight against the unfamiliar buffeting air outside her suit.

    She gets her senses back and exhales at last. She said something about turning over, she thinks, although the thought of not watching the planet that appears to be zooming faster and faster toward her seems irrational--like ignoring an arrow aimed at her. With difficulty, she tries to stammer the words out: "When--when should we turn?"

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    "Once it gets too bumpy for you otherwise," Pru said. "Your call, but a little streamlining will do you some good."

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    Nia raises an eyebrow at Guzman's news. Cece, unattached. Well, well, hasn't she kept her love-life close to her vest? Ajay's gonna suffer for not keeping me abreast of that. She smirks a little at the inevitable pun he'd make at that phrasing. And speaking of phrasing...

    "C'mon, Lu, you know I never stay unplucked for long." Nia grins wickedly, though her eyes reveal more warmth than she allows in her casual words. "But... there is someone..."

    For once she's uncertain how to continue. Or even if she wants to. Putting a name on this... thing... she has with Booker seems premature. Just thinking about it makes her stomach do little flip-flops of nervousness. What the hell's that about? The answer comes to her: she doesn't want to jinx things. Which is bizarre, because since when is she so superstitious?

    The fingers of her left hand, hidden from Luisa, start twisting the grass beneath it as Nia deals with this unexpected flash of emotion. Okay, get a grip. You've known him for maybe a month. Who knows where it'll go? Probably it'll last a couple months and then we'll end up friends-plus, like usual.

    Even as she ponders this, she frowns in disagreement. Booker Graham doesn't seem the type to do things half-way. Look at those gifts he got her, one of them right after they first met. They weren't just throwaway items, they were thoughtful. Meaningful specifically for her. Then again... Could be part of a standard game with him, she has to acknowledge. What do I know about his track record? He's still pretty new to the ship. Maybe he's a serial hearts-and-flowers-then-in-the-bed-and-out-the-door kinda guy.

    What surprises her is... this thought actually bothers her. Nia's had countless flings herself, and she's one of the least jealous people she knows. The monogamy thing has always made her edgy, like she's in a cage. Still, something about how quickly, and how deeply, she and Book connected... It feels different.

    All this rushes through her mind as she pauses in her response to Luisa. Annoyed by this uncharacteristic reticence--and the uncomfortable emotions--she forces herself to act like herself already. "It's Ensign Graham," she says quickly to make up for the hesitation. "You know, the new guy in Security? Just a little over my height, gray hair, rugged, handsome? Looks like a guy who's been through a few battles--and fought hard?" She enjoys describing Booker, and imagining him as she does. "Considering the major role he's had in the past few missions, you've gotta know him by now, right?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 25 Jun 2017 at 11:11 PM.

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    Kylah nods at Pru's response, still transfixed by the planet. Of course nodding is pointless, but she is unsure whether the guide will hear her if she replies. The turbulence is not yet beyond her endurance; even the fear is no longer overwhelming.

    I chose this. She may not have expected the activity Mr. Graham had planned for her, but she went along with it. She could have backed out. She is still not sure why she did not. But here she is, at the very top of the sky--and below her, an entire planet's population. A virtual falling star.

    Why... I am like the Dohlman, she thinks, eyes widening in recognition. The Elasian star, Tellun, is said to be incarnate in whoever is chosen to lead their world. its spirit having fallen from the heavens to Elas to find its living, breathing avatar--the Dohlman. Now it is her brother, Tel. Kylah was once intended for this honor, but of course, she was not fit. Yet here she is, mimicking the path of the legendary deity.

    Kylah is not religious and knows too much of the behind-the-scenes, political maneuvering that surrounds the Council to think any Dohlman is imbued with anything but the right family or political connections. Still, she loves mythology. If she can use these legends during this extraordinary, daunting experience... she might actually get through it. Might actually enjoy it.

    An unaccustomed smile curls her lips. She will fall, and hopefully--if not crushed and broken--Kylah will stand up again.
    Last edited by choie; 26 Jun 2017 at 11:42 PM.

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    Guzman smiles. "Sure, I know Book. He's a good guy, and definitely nice to look at. Good for you! I hope things are going OK for you both."

    Rangin plunges deeper into the upper atmosphere, and the others follow him, one by one. It gets very bumpy for each of you in turn. The stars above dim and then disappear as the sky turns red, yellow and orange all around you. Fire begins streaking from the outer edges of your divesuits. "Nothing to worry about," Pru says, her voice scratchier over the comm circuit. "Just like we discussed."

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    Kylah clenches her teeth tightly shut against the jolts running through her small frame. She knows she must ignore the halo of flames around her suit as well as her sense of isolation, which has doubled with Pru's diminished ability to communicate.

    I wonder how Mr. Graham is doing? She hopes he does not feel afraid and alone. She would ask aloud, but is not certain he would hear her--or whether he would want her concern for him to be made public on a communication channel that includes both his Security colleague and Velir Rangin.

    Part of her sense of isolation, she realizes belatedly, is the uselessness of her empathic abilities. Kylah can feel nothing at all. Even when alone in a room, either at home or on the ship, she is constantly aware of an undercurrent of what she considers emotional radiation.

    Now that is gone. Except for the two-week period when her powers had been dulled following... whatever Darren Zweller did to her... Kylah has never experienced such tangible silence.

    Banishing thoughts of Zweller or anything else but the present, she takes a deep breath and returns to imagining herself as that falling star, the meteor burning brightly in the sky.
    Last edited by choie; 28 Jun 2017 at 12:39 AM.

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    "Things are definitely okay," Nia says warmly, and means it. But she also makes a mental note to ask Booker about Luisa. Because Lu's casual use of 'Book' just sent Nia's curiosity quotient up a few points. Jealousy and insecurity. What the hell is wrong with you? So what if he's making the rounds of every female navigator on the ship? You haven't been celibate since you first laid eyes on him either.

    Except... once they crossed the border from flirtation to intimacy, Nia realizes, she has been turning down opportunities with her usual casual partners. And she hasn't sought any out, either. That's not her usual M.O. Especially when she and Booker haven't technically even had sex. Not entirely, anyway.

    Oh fuck this. What kind of waffling wimp have you turned into? "Is it gorgeous here or what? I could happily listen to that river all day." Despite her pleasant words, Nia exhales in an annoyed whoosh as she lies back on the grass. Maybe staring up at the sky will give her a sense of perspective. Still, she can't help wondering what Booker's doing now--and whether it's good or bad that apparently neither of them had the inclination to spend their shore leave together.

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    Pru says, harder and harder to understand, "You're all doing fine. When... and th... you...." and then her voice is lost to a wave of static. The flames streaming from the edges of your divesuits are truly impressive now, and the ride is very bumpy. None of you can see anyone else, ahead or behind, now.

    Guzman matches Onn's sigh. "Me, too. The Arboretum is nice but it's nothing like this. You know, there's just no substitute for direct sunlight, fresh air and a real sky over your head now and then."

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    Kylah's heart beats faster. She can feel her pulse in her fingertips and temples. She knows the flames surrounding her are expected, and reminds herself of that--just as Pru did before they lost contact. But it takes all her concentration and will to push away her fears of burning up within this bright, blinding sky.

    She is not panicking--her efforts at living the fantasy of flying have at least been that successful--but an unbidden thought flares into life: What if they are all gone? What if Velir has burned up, and Mahmoud, and--and everyone who started before me? I will not know!

    As much as she hates to address him, she cannot help herself. "Mr. Rangin," she says loudly, her voice jolting along with her body to the point that she must close her eyes to get the words out. "Are you there?" Kylah waits a few seconds and adds, "Mr. Graham, can you read me? Can anyone hear me and confirm your status, please?"

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    Nia nods, giving no other reply at first, and closes her eyes to feel the breeze more keenly. Of course, the air doesn't feel fresh to her. It never does on M-class planets. But she revels in its cool movement across her exposed skin. That sensation almost never happens on the ship, unless she's jogging.

    That's one of the reasons she loves swimming. It takes her out of the neutral, bland environment of the Yorktown and adds a little chaos. She can speed through her lane of the pool, slice into the water with her hands while kicking it away from her, all while feeling it rush deliciously past her face and bare limbs. Each splash sounds different. Makes her feel truly alive, instead of trapped in the managed, controlled, sterile world of a starship.

    There's that word again. Trapped. Why am I feeling so hemmed in all of a sudden?

    "It's too bad the Arboretum doesn't include some kinda artificial environment," she murmurs as she opens her eyes again. "I mean, I like going there 'cause it tends to be kept warmer and more humid than anywhere else, but... I don't know. We leave the ship so rarely--especially those of us who aren't picked for landing parties..."

    Nia wasn't on that track until recently, when she's had to step in a couple of times. She's enjoyed it but she's very aware of those who don't get the same opportunities.

    "I wonder if there's been a psych study on the lack of natural cues, like sunrise and sunset, or seasonal changes, or air movement. Hell, even just sticking in some fans to make a pretend wind would give us the sense that we're not so closed-in all the time. Y'know?"

    She lets out another sigh. "Maybe someday ships'll give us the ability to go to some room and pick our own environmental settings. Like, I'd bump up the temperature by several degrees and have mist rolling around... even a light rain. And some rocks to climb and sand to dig my toes into..."

    She knows she's describing the ideal version of Sidonia. A Sidonia without the Drought or red sky and toxic atmosphere that sometimes spontaneously bursts into flames visible for miles.

    "...But that wouldn't work," she continues, her pragmatism kicking in. "You'd need a dozens rooms, at least, to accommodate each member of the crew's ideal surroundings. Unless some of it could be faked..."

    Mentally positing some entirely new type of technology just for entertainment purposes is waaaay too much to think about right now, as she's getting a bit sleepy. To rouse herself, she turns over to Luisa. "What'd be your idea getaway, if you could create it on the ship? And..." Nia smiles crookedly. "Who would you wanna take there? There's gotta be someone, Lu. Pick anyone in the crew, even just a fantasy. Who'd you choose?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 30 Jun 2017 at 03:08 AM.

  49. #149
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    Graham takes Pru's advice and curls up, backside toward the planet.

    Once free of the visual of being god only knows how high above the planet, he feels much calmer.

    It's almost like a fast combat drop in a shuttle...trust the pilot and hold onto your ass.

    He hears Kylah's voice over the comm. It's scratchy enough that he can't be sure whether she's alarmed or yelling over static and chop, or if it's just distorted.

    But he's reasonably confident if something bad was happening Pru and company would be on it...

    "I hope you don't hate me for getting you into this, Mr. Kylah," Graham says as clearly and slowly as he can. "But this is what friends are for right? Something new and different?" He pauses a moment. "Hang in there!"

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    Guzman nods lazily. "Yeah. I mean, they dim the lights at 'night,' and the food on offer in the mess halls changes three times a day, but not having those kind of environmental cues can be a little disorienting, y'know? I hear they're working on some kind of holographic rec room to let people have different experiences, change things up a little, and that could be nice. Don't know how long it'll be before we see them shipboard, though." She thinks about Onn's question. "I think I'd want to be on some tropical island somewhere, maybe with - promise you won't tell anyone?" She blushes a little. "Ens. Rawlings. I think he's yummy."

    After several minutes of fiery, bumpy descent, Kylah finds herself in calm, sunny, clear skies, almost in an instant, as if a switch has been thrown. She can see for what must be hundreds of kilometers in every direction. There are massive cloud banks far below that grow perceptibly larger by the second.

    Graham, following not long afterwards, sees the same.

    After a few more minutes, as you look about, Pru's voice comes over the comm circuit, clear as a bell. "OK, I'm through the worst of it, so you all should be, too. Check in, please, everyone."

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