'Duty' Log|Civ|Sh'eik|"Castaway Kitten Pt. 1"

Posted on 241410.06 @ 5:09am by Cadet Sh'eik
Edited on on 241410.06 @ 5:14am

Mission: Suicidal Running Title
Location: Distant Moon
Timeline: SD 241410.06

Part one: "Message in a bottle"

=/\= On a distant moon =/\=

Sh'eik sighed heavily, dialing in the last data points.
He'd checked the data again, and again.
Gone over the parts, the thruster quads, the fuel pod, the transmitter, everything.
He ran his handpaws through his shaggy mane, licking over his fangs and shifting nervously from his left to right foot.

Two years. For two years, he'd been alone. The crew of his parents' science vessel, his siblings and parents, all having passed. He'd survived, grown, learned from the few surviving databanks of the Persephone.

He'd salvaged a probe from the wreckage, and learned from the databanks the ways in which to modify it, into a makeshift emergency beacon. It had been slow, arduous work. While technically inclined, he was still only a child, and technical journals aren't written for the untrained or the layman.

He couldn't even judge his success, not yet anyway. First he had to get the 2 meter cylinder of communication arrays blasted into orbit. Surviving that, he had to maintain an uplink with the probe long enough to set it's guidance systems and power up it's micro-impeller, setting it on it's way to... somewhere, anywhere with life.

A quivering, chocolate furred, handpaw reached out, touching the cool tritanium hull plating of the probe. He closed his emerald eyes, steadying his mind and hand in the process, willing the probe to perfect operation. It was a ludicrous idea. Sh'eik was no psychokine. Still, he felt better about his situation, touching the device he'd worked on. Somehow, this made it more real.

Sh'eik allowed himself only this brief moment before separating himself and moving off to the shattered remains of one of Persephone's cargo bays. Here he'd taken shelter, from the constant storms, and large predators native to this place.

The doors whisked shut behind him, the dim lights glowing to life, sucking as little power from the batteries as was necessary. Having only a dozen or so solar cells to recharge the batteries meant Sh'eik had learned to conserve. Having feline eyes meant low light was one of many such ways he could do so.

There had in fact been a small amount of deuterium and antimatter left in the storage cells, after the crash. During the early days after the crash Sh'eik's parents and the remaining Persephone crew had worked to preserve them, for exactly the purpose he was about to use them for.

Sh'eik sat in the chair, the same one he'd sat in everyday since his brothers had died, logged into the console and started up the control programs. He watched the diagnostics cycle as the thruster quads warmed up. He let his mind wander, trying to remember the faces of his family and clan members, pushing away the depression seeping in, after realizing he couldn't draw any sharp images to mind.

The console in front of him chirped, showing green lights across the board.
Unconsciously holding his breath, the Caitian teen keyed in the final sequence, queuing a deep rumble outside that echoed through the bay. He closed his eyes, listening to the auditory messages as the probe lifted off, stabilized and began to gain altitude.

An unhappy honk from the console and blinking red light on the display brought Sh'eik's back eyes open and down to the displays, as thruster 3 began misfiring, sending the probe into a lazy spiral on it's way up. He cursed under his breath, clicking his claws nervously on the glass of the console. It was out of his hands now... He watched as the programs attempted to compensate, transferring power to the other thrusters.

Slowly the probe came back into line, and achieved orbit, just as the thruster fuel packs expired. Sh'eik began breathing again, as his clawed handpaws danced across the panel, starting up the micro-impeller. He wasn't sure how far out the probe could get, or how long he could stay in contact with it, or even which direction to send it... but it was up... and if he were ever getting back to civilization, he had to try.

With a five minute count down to the impeller being ready, Sh'eik flipped through the star charts. They were probably out of date, but he selected the nearest known settlement and programmed it into the probe's nav computer.

He then collected himself, tapped the comm-record and cleared his throat.
It's hard to imagine what it's like to try and think of what to say, when you haven't had anyone to talk to in over 2 years.

"To anyone, receiving this probe's message. I am a survivor of a doomed expedition. Our ship has crashed on a moon and I am in need of rescue. Co-ordinates follow." Sh'eik tapped the comm again, and set it to auto-repeat.

'Warp Impeller Ready' blinked on the console in front of him. He hesitated only a moment before tapping the execute button, and the probe leapt into subspace, it's signal immediately beginning to grow fainter. He knew it would be less than a minute before the probe left the rather large system, and reception range of his weak transmitter. He watched, every setting seeming stable... and then it was gone.

Sh'eik sat back in the chair, idly scritching his left ear.

Now what?

=/\= End Log =/\=

Civilian Sh'eik
Survivor - Science Vessel Persephone
SD 241410.06

=/\= United Confederation of Interstellar Planets =/\=