Futuristic To Walk Among Starlight

[Stickdom]

In This Story, we, the protagonist, wake from a cryo-sleep through space only to find that nothing is as it should be. Our warship is in complete disrepair, the personnel appear to have been gone for centuries, and worst of all, we are alone. Or so we can hope. The planetary war we were en route to serve in is of no concern to us now, our only thoughts are of survival and escape. Inspired in part by classic sci-fi such as Alien, Star Trek, Star Wars, etc.

Spoiler

1. Votes will be majority rules.


2. Any option that receives 3 votes is automatically a majority.


3. Otherwise, if no majority is reached, the option with most votes is chosen.


4. In case of a tie, dice rolls will determine option, unless a majority is reached.


5. You may embellish your vote with any additional details if you wish.


6. You may Write-In an option if it is available, though others must vote for your Write-in for it to be selected.


-. I have the ability to change/alter the rules at any time, if given the players an update saying so.

Chapter 1: The Wakening

Location: Imperial Warship "Envision"; Cryo-bay


Personal Status: Fair


Armaments: None


Equipment: None


Ship Condition: Unknown


Other: None

Our mind wanders through an endless dreamscape of formless visions. The "Ice Sleep", our mind is trapped inside of our paralyzed body, frozen in a capsule for transport through the farthest reaches of space. Outside of our restless body, a vent laboriously coughs a mist of revitalizant into the chamber, slowly rousing us from the haunted slumber back to reality. The needles plugged into our limbs pump a stream of stimulants and analeptics into our bloodstream, forcing our body into an alert and functional state. Our eyes spring open to see fogged hyper-glass, the barrier that separates us from the outside world. Our head is locked into a brace to prevent injury, but we have the freedom to move our eyes until we regain lost limb function. Looking at ourselves shows we are wearing nothing but a fabric jumpsuit that protects little more than our privacy. Our body is pale from being immersed in the cryofluid for heavens only know how long, though the colour is slowly returning to our limbs as our heart begins to beat again. Through the hyper-glass, the ship outside is dark and foreboding, almost none of the lights or any of the computer terminals seem to be on, though scattered about the room are slowly flickering red emergency beacons, flashing on and off every second. Something out there isn't right.


{-Revitalization Complete-} The built-in life-support system chirps this message into the chamber, and a previously unnoticed button near our hand flashes red with the word "Release Lock" imprinted on it. Our training, which is slowly coming back to us, tells us that this will free us from this prison. But with the state of the ship at first glance, are we sure we really want to go out there?


> Push the button and hope the release mechanism still works.


> Ask the computer for ship status.


> Ask the computer for personnel status.


> Ask the computer to give you a medical evaluation.


> Write-In

 

[Darkeva]

<X> Ask the computer for ship status.


>>Is there even any air out there?

 

[Silanon]

> Push the button and hope the release mechanism still works.


What could go wrong? If something is wrong, the computer system will hopefully stop us. If not, it probably wouldn't have been able to warn us anyway.

 

[Sombra Arcana]

> Ask the computer for ship status.

 

[LastRomeo]

>Ask the computer for ship status

 

[Stickdom]

>Asked Computer For Ship's Status.

Location: Imperial Warship "Envision"; Cryo-bay


Personal Status: Fair


Armaments: None


Equipment: None


Ship Condition: Inoperable


Other: None

We ask the computer to give a rundown of the ship as it is now, no sense in running out blindly. The hum of its tiny processors fills the air for only a microsecond, then it announces proudly,


{- Ship Diagnostics Complete.


Navigational Systems: Offline.


Engines: Offline.


Life Support Systems: 2%, Cryochamber: Habitable, Main Deck: Habitable, Galley: Habitable, Bridge: Uninhabitable, Crew Quarters: Uninhabitable, Engine Rooms: Uninhabitable, Maintenance Rooms: Uninhabitable, Hangars: Uninhabitable.


Security Systems: Offline.


Computational Systems: 5%.


Hull Condition: Major Breach, Airlocks Secure.


Ship Status: Unfit for Duty. -}


This is possibly the worst news we could have heard, there is barely enough of this ship left running to support a single passenger, let alone an entire crew. Anyone that was active and unprotected when whatever happened... happened, it's obvious that they didn't survive. Our thoughts turn to any of the other crew that were in cryo-containment, they might have survived by whatever miracle saved ourself, but if anyone else decided to wake up now, there wouldn't be enough life support systems operational to keep more than a few alive. If we want to stake a claim on the available breathable air out there, we have to act now! The small piece of good news is that the breach in the hull is sealed off, whatever portion of the ship that was destroyed is safely separated behind a series of airlocks, so there wouldn't be any air leakage out into space. It should be safe enough to exit the capsule we're trapped in, at least, perhaps we can scout around and see what we can fix, we're never going to survive trapped in this test-tube-sized prison. The question is, are we prepared to face whatever may be out there?


> Push the button to activate the release mechanism.


> Ask the computer for further ship status. [Write-In Details of Question]


> Ask the computer for personnel status.


> Ask the computer to give you a medical evaluation.


> Write-In

 

[LastRomeo]

> Ask the computer to give you a medical evaluation


{ Staying in a tube for however long we've been in this thing must have some health effects. Might as well find out what they are before possibly endangering our life. }

 

[Sombra Arcana]

> Ask the computer to give you a medical evaluation.

 

[Darkeva]

> Ask the computer to give you a medical evaluation.


Freezer burn can ruin a good meal, you shudder to think what it might do to you...

 

[Stickdom]

> Asked for Medical Examination

Location: Imperial Warship "Envision"; Cryo-bay


Personal Status: Malnourished; Weakened


Armaments: None


Equipment: None


Ship Condition: Inoperable


Other: None

The computer hums again in response to our request for an exam of our body. A trail of lights travels down the sides of the chamber like the scanner tray of a printer,circling around us to pierce our body with intangible beams of harmless radiation. We feel slightly warm in the areas where the light touches our bare skin, specifically our hands and feet and face, but it is not an unpleasant sensation. They work their way around several times, penetrating without ever touching. If it was a human examining us, we might even feel a little self-conscious, though we could never explain why. The lights finally fade out, and another hum commences, and the tubes which are injected into our veins pulse with liquid that flows like fire into our bloodstream. It burns, we barely hold in a scream, to which the computer calls out in its annoying sing-song voice,


{- Patient Diagnosis: Subject is severely malnourished.


Muscular atrophy present in nearly all muscle groups.


Brain function abnormally low, possible nerve damage.


Cardiovascular systems are abnormal, blood pressure low due to oxygen starvation.


-Actions Taken:


Injected temporary vitamin supplement to sustain patient.


Injected muscular stimulant to reactivate muscle growth.


-Actions Recommended:


Neuro-radiation therapy to normalize nervous system.


Physical exercise to stimulate blood flow.


Use of exoskeletal support suit.


Diagnosis Complete; Have a Good Day. -}


The last line the computer nearly chirped in delight, as if there were good days to be had ahead. So, we are almost dead in here, our muscles worn away with time and neglect, half starved, low on breathable air. All the conditions for human life are nearly spent, we have to get out and find something, anything, or we're going to die, right now. The stimulants and vitamins that were pumped into our system should sustain us, but not for long, we have to find replacements fast. The computer also mentioned an exo-suit, that might be a good place to start. They were usually kept around the cryo-bay for cases like these, cases in which the sleep patients were under too long and wasted away. Exactly as we have done.


> Push the button to activate the release mechanism.


> Ask the computer for personnel status.


> Stay here and wait to die.


> Write-In

 

[LastRomeo]

>Push the button to activate the release mechanism


{ If we're about to die, we should try to stop it however we can. Waking up and then dying after would be a bummer. }

 

[Darkeva]

> Push the button to activate the release mechanism.


Let me be free! I was born to be free! Boo-ya, big red button for the win!....


...did that nice voice in my head say brain damage?...Nah.

 

[Silanon]

> Push the button to activate the release mechanism.

 

[Stickdom]

>Released Lock Mechanism

Location: Imperial Warship "Envision"; Cryo-bay


Personal Status: Malnourished; Weakened


Armaments: None


Equipment: None


Ship Condition: Inoperable


Other: None

The large button gives way easily under our finger, followed by a hiss as the small capsule depressurizes. Through the hyper-glass, we can see spurts of steam and vapor escaping out into the room, a good sign that there is enough air to still be breathable. The glass door slides away from us, then to the side, we are now fully exposed to the outside room. There is a jolt as the platform we are standing on slides out from the cryo-tube, then the clasps around our neck, wrists and ankles release, the needles embedded in our body retract, and we are free. Our weak muscles have difficulty responding to us, it takes several seconds for our leg to even recognize our mental command to take a step. When we do step off of the platform, we are surprised by nearly falling forward and being sent tumbling across the room. Of course, with most of the ship's systems inactive, the gravity wells are powered down, we have no gravity. This can be a blessing, having to fight against the downward pull in our weakened state would make movement a painful chore. So, now that we are out, we have to decide where to begin. Looking around reveals that the

view from inside the tube was not quite accurate, things had appeared in much better condition through four inches of hyper-glass. Out here, the air is thin, though still enough to breathe for a while. What we thought were red emergency beacons are something else entirely. Coating most of the floor and twisting up the walls are tendrils of wires and tubes, they certainly were not there before, pulsing slowly with bluish energy of some kind. Dear God, whatever this is, it's certainly not supposed to be there and it's infested the entire ship. Or, as much of the ship as we can see. The computer terminal at the far end of the room seems to be the source of these strange tendrils, they sprout out of the broken terminal's screen and all of its data ports like weeds in a flower garden, the red lights glowing every several feet inside of the mechanical tentacles. Following their trail, many of them lead to the cryo-tubes mounted on the wall, bursting through the hyper-glass and murdering most of the helpless would-be survivors. Any tubes which were occupied have been broken into, the occupants now only bare skeletons, and examining our own tube shows signs of the tendrils creeping around the base of the capsule, we would have been next before long.


The ship is apparently overrun, though with what or how we have no idea. It's sure to be dangerous out there, and we have to prepare for whatever lies ahead. Where do we start?


> Search the cryo-bay locker for an exo-suit, the computer mentioned there might be one.


> Find a weapon, we need to protect ourself first of all, we're no good dead.


> Examine the mechanical tendrils more closely, they don't seem to be moving, we should study them while we have the chance.


> Search through the cryo-tubes on the wall, if we survived, there may be others as well.


> Make our way into the main deck of the ship, we have to find some food before we die of starvation.


> Get back in the cryo-tube and get it to pump us with more stimulants, we're going to need all the stamina and energy we can get.


> Write-In

 

[Silanon]

> Examine the mechanical tendrils more closely, they don't seem to be moving, we should study them while we have the chance.


Seems better to have an idea what we are dealing with before we look for the exo-suit. We'd have to be damn lucky to find a weapon here that actually is useful for us in our weakened state.

 

[Darkeva]

> Search the cryo-bay locker for an exo-suit, the computer mentioned there might be one.


>>>Since it was described as emergency medical equipment, there is probably med packs, maybe even nutrient packs of some sort in the same spot.

 

[Sombra Arcana]

> Search the cryo-bay locker for an exo-suit, the computer mentioned there might be one.


I still believe this is the best option as to tank whatever before getting a weapon or examining something that might or not kill us

 

[LastRomeo]

> Search the cryo-bay locker for an exo-suit, the computer mentioned there might be one.





{ Ah yes, the thing that will keep us alive. Our best guess would be to trust the all-knowing computer to not die }

 

[Stickdom]

>Searched Cryo-bay Locker

Location: Imperial Warship "Envision"; Cryo-bay


Personal Status: Malnourished; Weakened


Armaments: None


Equipment: None


Ship Condition: Inoperable


Other: None

Half-tumbling our way across the weightless room, it took nearly a minute for us to maneuver ourselves to the locker that was built into the wall near the door. Floating through the air, we pushed off of the wall to ricochet through the room, not able to stop our momentum until we reached the next wall, like a game of pinball. Every impact caused us to wince in pain, our body is still fragile and our muscles cramp easily. Hovering in front of the locker, we manage to grasp at the handle and press the unlocking mechanism, using our feet against the wall to pry the door open. Inside is a treasure trove of items, first and foremost the exosuit. It is folded into a small bundle, looking more like a collection of metal bars and tubes ratcheted together. However, when we pull it out of the locker and press the activation button into the small keypad

in its wrist, it unfolds into a metal skeleton that is slight larger than ourself, and it fits easily around our body. We do our best to position it behind us, resting rather uncomfortably into the framework, clasping the restraints around our wrists and ankles, and the dorsal needles tap into our spine, piercing our back to get to the delicate nerves to analyze our biorhythms. It goes through the testing procedures, making sure we have full range of motion; the micro-pistons and articulators move on their own, dragging our limbs with them, raising our arms above our head and stretching our legs for us against our will. While not painful, several of the positions are less than comfortable, and we're glad when it is finally calibrated. We hear rather than see the back-panel activating, a pack that rests around our waist that contains the power cells that energize the system, with small ports for plugging compatible devices into, as well as mount pads for heavier external hardware.


While the hardware activates, we take another look around the room, noticing the handle of some object tangled in a knot of those tendrils. As we stare in an attempt to figure out what the item is, we notice the tendrils that are lying on the floor are beginning to twitch, the tips turning this way and that, as if trying to find something. Then, ever so slowly, they begin to creep towards us, winding across the floor like metal snakes filled with flickering lights. Whatever these things are, they mean to ensnare us, and they will be on us in a moment. We have one last second to do something before we are forced to flee the room.


> Search the locker again, there were some things we might have missed.


> Grab that object lying on the floor, whatever it is might be a useful tool, or even better, some kind of a weapon.


> Quickly examine the cryo-tubes on the wall, if any are still intact, we can come back later to look for survivors.


> Break into the paneling of our cryo-tube and wrench out any remaining stimulants we can get our hands on.


> Run out into the hallway leading to the Main Deck, we don't have time to waste here anymore.


> Write-In

 

[Sombra Arcana]

> Grab that object lying on the floor, whatever it is might be a useful tool, or even better, some kind of a weapon.

 

[Silanon]

> Grab that object lying on the floor, whatever it is might be a useful tool, or even better, some kind of a weapon.


Let's get lucky

 

[Sombra Arcana]

> Grab that object lying on the floor, whatever it is might be a useful tool, or even better, some kind of a weapon.
Let's get lucky

I'm all night to get lucky

 

[Darkeva]

> Grab that object lying on the floor, whatever it is might be a useful tool, or even better, some kind of a weapon.


Sure, why not. Random junk ahoy.

 

[Stickdom]

>Retrieve Object

Location: Imperial Warship "Envision"; Cryo-bay


Personal Status: Malnourished; Weakened


Armaments: None


Equipment: Basic Exoframe;


Ship Condition: Inoperable


Other: None

We dash over the mess of tendrils writhing towards us, our ears filled with the heavy thump-thump-thump of the magnetic soles of our suit attaching and detaching from the metal floor. We grip the handle of the object and quickly backstep as the metal entities attempt to coil around our feet. We return to our starting position near the locker and the door, our prize gripped in our hands. It appears to be a tool almost a meter in length, balanced in weight and easy to hold in one hand, with what we assume is the front end housing an emitter of some kind, and the back end featuring a long tube or cord with a socket on the end.

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​

Quickly glancing at the socket, we see that it will easily fit into one of the ports on the side of the backpack system we are wearing. The tendrils are getting closer now, sprawling across the floor, reaching for us like a mechanical kraken of mythology. We step back into the doorway, the socket in our hand reaching for the port to plug it into. As the two connect, the data-pad on our exosuit's wrist flickers to life, green digital text like that on ancient computers scrawls across the screen...

​

> Particle Ionofuser Detected

> Connection Status:


...


...


Online

>Processing Compatibility...

Power Level: 12% --- Approximate Charges Remaining: 6

> Time to Ready Status: 14 seconds


> Preheat and Engage Fusion Drive?


> Yes_ No_
​

The screen confirms what we had thought, this was a device used by the previous engineers of this ship, a ship repairman's most trusted tool. We are not certain how it works or what its full capabilities are, but we don't have much time to waste. It will be at least another twenty seconds before it is operational, and then we would have to figure out how to work it, but perhaps it could be of some use against the mechanical menace that is advancing on us.


> Examine the inofuser more closely and determine how to use it fully.


> Charge the ionofuser and immediately advance on the tendrils with it.


> Retreat into the hallway and charge the ionofuser at the same time.


> Flee into the Main Deck of the ship.


> Write-In
​

 

[Darkeva]

> Retreat into the hallway and charge the ionofuser at the same time.


The unknowns are rapidly outpacing the known. Such is life, however a controlled retreat seems the most prudent action. Try to get a grip on what the tool does while keeping an eye on the techno-phage and the hallway. Given the distribution in the room it seems to be attracted to technology, or more precisely powered tech. Hence:


Write-in>> If relatively safe and able, preform a complete shutdown and see if the tendrils stop. Then restart. But only if safe.