USS Aldrin Briefings and Recordings
||Mission Briefings | Simulation Records | 18+|
|First Lieutenant Marielle Deniaud & First Lieutenant Gideon Salieri, SD|
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Sim Plot: The Fujiwhara Effect | Weather Vane
Sim Date: 1705.01
The Incoming Storm
Eryan Minet scowled deeply as he watched the taller man. They were both dressed in white robes, the color meant to deflect the heat of the sun’s rays while the fabric covering the near entirety of their body kept them cool. His head covering was red, dyed to show his status as the leader of his people. Nearly two thousand followed him as they migrated from sea to sea. The other leader, Coled Wrinn, also had a red head covering, though it was a deeper shade. Forty-five hundred souls followed the pompous man in their city by the bay of seals. “You cannot simply leave us here!” Eryan shouted once Coled turned to leave.
“We have no room for your ilk,” Wrin answered snidely as he paused. “Go hide in the caves like the scum you are.” He waved his hand, the signal an overtly rude gesture as he turned and walked out of the meeting room.
His eyes widened, the very idea that Coled Wrinn had the nerve to speak to him in such a fashion set his blood boiling. “You are not welcome back, Coled! Do not return unless you wish death!” The other leader was out of earshot. Minet frowned deeply as he turned toward the console at the head of the table, his brown eyes moving over the information. He hissed softly.
“Eryan!” Badet Bunel ran quickly into the bright meeting room. He leaned forward as he took in ragged breaths through his slitted nostrils. The scales that covered his skin were flushed a dark green from his exertion. “We must evacuate immediately! The storm is quickly approaching. The electromagnetic levels are beyond what we predicted. It will be much worse than we thought-”
His vertical pupils narrowed slightly as he lifted his gaze to the scientist. “Tell me the caves are prepared for the storm,” Eryan instructed Badet with a steady voice.
“The caves?!” Badet’s eyes widened, his golden slits almost turning into circles at the thought. “The caves will not be enough to protect our people! We must leave this planet at once!”
Minet shook his head as his fingers moved over the console. “There are no ships, Coled has taken his people and left us to die.” He typed up a quick note to send as a distress signal. The leader could only hope that someone with Wrinn had a heart and would turn back.
“They- There are no ships-,” the renowned scientist could barely contain his surprise and his grief. “What do you mean they left us here to die?! They would not dare to leave us here! That would be barbaric-”
“They have dared, Badet, and they are gone. Get everything you can to the caves.” His eyes lifted to the scientist after he’d sent the message.
Bunel could only gape at his people’s leader. His voice shook with despair. “The caves will not withstand this storm, Eryan. We have eight hours before the storm reaches us-”
“You are wasting time, Badet. Go, do what you can. I will gather our people.” He stepped around the head of the table, his strides carrying him to the scientist. Eryan reached and clasped his hand on Bunel’s shoulder reassuringly. “Be positive and hopeful. We will need strength to persevere.”
“I am picking up a distress transmission.” Ensign Dusan Heimdall’s fingers moved over the operations console as he cleared up the communication. The announcement cut through the silence of the Bridge. Gamma shift was reserved for junior officers who wished to get command experiences. It was unusual for anything to happen during the otherwise sleepy hours of the Aldrin.
Ensign Rico Suave groaned quietly as he stood straighter at the tactical console. His fingers moved over the glossy surface as he started scanning the area. “We’re nearing the Syknor system, seven planets, two are Class M. I’m picking up warp signatures.”
“ETA to the Syknor system?” Lieutenant Antoni Rosberg glanced down at the transmission as it streamed to the console at his arm. His teeth worked over his lower lip as he read the distress.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Millara Kaine spoke up from the Helm console after making the appropriate calculations. “We can be there in three hours at Warp 6, Lieutenant.”
“Set a course. I’ll wake the Captain,” he grumbled after sighing. His fingers danced over the glassy screen by his side. “Pull up all the information necessary for the sector. He’ll want that immediately.” Rosberg sighed quietly as he pressed the commands on his console. “Lieutenant Rosberg to Captain Xiaoyen. We’ve received a distress transmission. I am rerouting to your quarters at your command.”
There was a quiet chirp as the file was sent and the Bridge fell into a tense silence.