Staring Down Futility
Posted on Thu Feb 22nd, 2024 @ 4:45pm by Ensign Len Kagamine 'Twin 1' & Lieutenant Commander Moklor ‘Shell Squid’ & Lieutenant Iowa Riverside 'Grey Ghost' & Lieutenant JG Vyse Ingelbard & Ensign Sora Kobayashi 'Blank'
Edited on on Thu Feb 22nd, 2024 @ 4:47pm
1,440 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Starship Graveyard
Location: Unknown
Timeline: Unknown
The first thing Iowa remembered was a dull pain in her upper abdomen. Groaning, she sat up and tried to open her eyes- only to be rewarded for her efforts with blinding sunlight. She forced her eyes shut for a second, and then after bracing herself for it, she opened them again. This time, it wasn't so intense, and as her eyes slowly adjusted, she was just barely able to make out the layout of her cockpit. She tried to move to get a better look, but she suddenly went lightheaded and sunk back down into her seat. She glanced down at her abdomen and observed a large spot where her uniform had turned a dark, sickly maroon. Sucking in her breath, she reached out with her hand and gently felt over the effected region, to try and get a vague idea of the extent of her injuries. She winced a little as her finger dipped into what was evidently a large, disconcerting gash; no doubt that was going to be unpleasant when she tried to move.
She sat back in her seat again, deliberating on what to do. Her brain was in a fog of sorts, and thoughts weren't coming to her as easily would have- likely a side effect of the amount of blood she'd lost while she was out. Eventually, she worked up just enough strength to reach over to press the emergency cockpit release button. With a loud Whoosh, the cockpit flipped back with such force that it practically snapped off of its hinges, tumbling uselessly to the side and exposing Iowa to the elements.
She coughed a little as a little bit of sand was kicked up into her face, but once the dust had settled, she undid her harness and began to crawl her way out. The process was slow and extraordinarily painful, as twisting herself free all but reopened her wound and caused her to start bleeding all over again, but fighting through the bouts of agony, she just barely managed to crawl her way out and onto the soft sand on which her craft laid.
After taking a moment to regain her bearings, she brushed a few strands of hair aside and began to take in her surroundings. Just off in the distance, she could see a plume of smoke rising just beyond the crest of a dune- likely another pilot, if she were to wager a guess; but what was evidently of greater interest- or, perhaps more accurately, concern- lay just beyond.
"Ah, shit..."
Towering for what must've been several miles off in the distance was the unmistakable shape of a Borg Cube; Iowa realized at that moment that she was in deep, deep trouble...
Moklor had faired pretty well since the crash. He'd been separated from his wingman, Ensign Teela. The Klingon had seen another fighter on the way down and began working his way towards it.
He ran as he saw a figure in the distance. It took time for the Klingon to approach Iowa. A backpack carrying emergency rations tucked into each fighter was worn on his shoulders.
"Lieutenant Riverside! Are you okay?" Moklor also turned to study the Borg Cube. "We must search for others. I believe something pulled all of our fighters to the surface."
"And howdy," Iowa grunted as Moklor helped her into a sitting position. "And to think we were this close to escaping the gravity well; it was almost as if something just snapped our fighters out of thin air..."
As Moklor looked her over, he noticed her wounds. "Be careful. Try not to move too much. I'll have to search for others. That well separated Nanny and I from each other. I wish I knew how wide of an area our fighters were pulled."
After looking over the wounds more, Moklor said, "I think we should stop the bleeding.. At least where it's worst. Does anything feel broken?"
Moklor's fighter had crashed into softer sand. He was sore, with his ankles especially aching. His Klingon anatomy had more readily absorbed the crash's impact.
Iowa hastily inspected herself for any abnormalities; swelling, bruising, numbness, and other physical deformities.
"Uh-oh," she muttered as she ran her fingers across her left thigh and pulled them back to find them red and sticky. "Y'all got a knife or something we could use? Something don't feel right over here..."
Vyse remained in rough shape, but his fellow pilots had helped splint his leg. With their help, he was moving, albeit in silent pain, and settled near Iowa’s crashed fighter. Since Len and Moklor had been trading off helping him walk, he held the weight of a survival bag that they’d pulled from his ejection seat. “I think I do.” He found a pocket knife in the bag and passed it over.
Moklor dug through his bag and found bandaging. "We'll have to find your fighter's emergency bag soon. But for now, I shall try to patch you up as best as I can. You'll have to remove the clothing."
As a Klingon, Moklor was not comfortable with medical tasks. He had still undergone a great deal of training as a senior officer. He held long strips of gauze he could wrap around a padded bandage.
"Can do," Iowa muttered as she carefully unzipped her tunic and pulled it back, revealing a gaping wound on her upper abdomen.
"Oh... now that's a lot worse than I thought it was..."
The Klingon worked faster, noticing the gauze would need to be used on the newly revealed wound. A dressing on the space age bandage helped close the wound by clotting the blood.
"You'll have to press down on this.. Apply as much pressure as you can", Moklor said with a solemn, trusting look.
Len had finally caught up with the group, he was trying to catch his breath as he rested his hands on his knee's. After a few moments he spotted the large shape of the Borg Cube in the distance. "I didn't know that there were Borg here!" he stated outloud.
"Whatever the case," Iowa surmised, wincing a little as Moklor gently applied the gauze to her wound. "If we don't get a move on, we're likely going to be techno-fodder before long..."
"I really don't like the idea of being a drone." Len stated simply. "I think we should give it a wide berth."
“Artificial improvement of senses is appealing,” Vyse said wistfully, his vision hampered by the lack of his prosthetic eyepiece. “But yeah maybe not the rest of it.”
Moklor looked to the plume of smoke building behind distant dunes. "We could try to push there... It is likely another fighter. Perhaps they may be headed this way. How mobile are you all feeling?"
Training said to stay near the ships during crash landings, but Moklor knew neither himself nor the others were prepared to sit and wait given the circumstances. If injuries kept them in place, Moklor wouldn't be against it.
"Well, to answer that question..." Iowa grunted as she attempted to stand, only to be met with excruciating pain that caused her to double back over. "...Not that much."
“Commander, Grey Ghost and I will slow you down, but together we’ll be okay,” Vyse said. “You know where we are. If you and Twin One go investigate, you can always come back for us, and no one is left alone.”
"I'm not getting too close," Len said. "But once we get back to the Tokyo they might need to know about this."
“Aw, come on, Len,” Vyse said. “Live a little. I’d be there if I could walk. Or see.”
Len side-eyed him and simply let out a sigh. "Ok, well lets take a quick look. But I think its best if we didn't go inside. If the cube is active then they might try and assimilate us."
Slowly the group of pilots crept closer. The plume of some did indeed come from one of their downed Starfighters. They managed between them to pull Ensign Kobayashi from the wreck. It was after their hasty rescue that they noticed the eerie green glow from the Borg cube. At least now they could make their escape back towards the Tokyo.
Posting by:
Ensign Len Kagamine 'Twin 1'
Pilot
Lieutenant Commander Moklor ‘Shell Squid’
Commander Air Group
Lieutenant Iowa Riverside 'Grey Ghost'
Pilot
Lieutenant JG Vyse Ingelbard
Pilot
Ensign Sora Kobayashi 'Blank'
Pilot
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