Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

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The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 4: Starship Trooper
Scene 4: Dark and Grounded

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Dark and Grounded

The four young marines had put their heads together. 

They were seated on the floor of the Bluebird's flight cabin, which was currently completely dark. And void of air. And flooded with radiation. Which their EVA suits were easily able to protect them from for at least 20 hours. They had their helmets touching so they could hear one another without transmitting any signals as their comm systems were currently disabled. Their voices sounded distant and distorted to one another.

“Do you really think they saw us?” asked Sasha.

“Put your brains on it,” Spike suggested. 

“We saw them,” Raanda observed.

“Yeah, but they’re like, 100 times as big as we are,” said Sasha.

“Far more than that,” Guz added.

“And their sensors are easily 100 times as powerful as ours,” Raanda said. “That and we turned tail and ran here like a scared rabbit.”

“Be glad there was a here for us to run to,” said Spike. 

“What do you think they’re going to do?” asked Sasha.

“They know we’re in a class A runabout,” said Raanda. “And they probably know standard Star Fleet EVA suits can sustain the wearer for 48 hours. There are far too many highly radioactive asteroids in this system for them to closely inspect every one of them.”

“It depends on their mission,” said Guz. “If they want us really badly, they will wait a couple of days. Sooner or later we have to come out of hiding. But if they’re on a schedule, they won’t be able to wait that long. They might drop a probe to alert them when we emerge.”

“That is not my plan,” said Spike.

“So what is your plan?” asked Guz.

“We don’t have to come out of hiding,” Spike responded. “But in less than 18 hours I have to engage minimal navigational shields to protect us against further radiation and flush the cabin. Then we’ll have to re-engage life support, decontaminate our suits, get out of them and don fresh suits, which are currently in protective cases. All of that can be done in a sustained burst of about 20 minutes. We’ll plan each step out. We want to do it quickly, but we absolutely must get every step completed correctly.”

“Won’t all that be like turning on a big neon sign and saying, “Here we are - come get us!”?” Sasha asked.

“Suit decontamination will take place in the shielded crates, so that shouldn’t give off much signal,” Guz observed.

“Almost none at all,” Spike agreed. “They’re definitely looking for power readings to indicate things like life support and navigational shields right now…”

“Assuming they’re looking for us at all,” said Raanda. “And that’s assuming they’re hostile…”

“Assume those things, Marine,” said Spike. “Even if we were inside Federation space we would be vulnerable to them, despite treaty law. But we’re far from home now. Fair game as far as they’re concerned. And they’re pretty far afield as well. Hostility is the safe assumption.”

“The neon sign?” Sasha prodded.

“This rock is putting out a lot of radiation,” said Spike. “They would have to be looking right at it to notice the nav shield and life support. As long as we minimize the amount of time that we’re exposed, we have a chance of escaping detection.”

“So how long do we stay here?” asked Raanda.

“I think Songbird hit it on the nose. They’re probably going to figure that if they don’t see us in 48 hours, we’re either dead and hidden too well or long gone. So I’m planning 64 hours,” said Spike.

“That’s going to put us pretty far off-schedule,” said Sasha. “Will Beagle wait for us?”

“No,” Spike replied. “I’ve got a friend on that boat, Sergeant Chavez Lone Wolf. We came up together. He told me Captain Howard doesn’t leave marines behind. If we're late, they’ll come looking for us. Now settle in. It’s going to be a long week…”

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