Welcome to Undrheim

Posted on Thu Apr 30th, 2020 @ 8:58am by Captain Enalia Telvan & Kodria Mizu & Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Lieutenant Samuel Clemens XV & Lieutenant JG Rena Pacci & Lieutenant JG Haruna Mizuhara & Lieutenant JG Tovanna Mah & Ensign Tanaak Sado & Ensign Varnok Jahal
Edited on on Thu Apr 30th, 2020 @ 11:01am

Mission: Return to the Core
Location: Undrheim
Timeline: 2397

As the Hera was sucked into the singularity created by the Tal'Shiar agent Riov Dalia Rendal and her small fleet, the bridge crew hung on for dear life as the ship was buffetted by the collapsing gravimetric tunnel.

The view on the screen was unhelpful as the ship plummeted almost out of control, spinning helplessly end over end until with a herculean effort and a trick she'd learned from Hikaru Sulu back in the day gave the Hera sufficient counterspin to give Paris a plane of reference. Once she had that, she guided the mighty vessel toward that plane, giving her stability and a way to ride the gravitic currents until the starship was back under control once more. With a sigh of relief, the buxom Commander Paris skillfully reoriented the ship to at least ride the collapse of reality to whatever their destination would reveal itself to be upon arrival.

Assuming there was going to be an arrival, and not just some event like being crushed by unimaginable gravity or whatever happened when a spatial rift collapsed into a singularity, dragging entire starships with them.

Everyone on the bridge had seen records of effects similar to what was now onscreen. When the refit Constitution class ships had undergone trials, they were able to accidentally create wormhole effects, which caused severe stress, damage, and worse to the starship line. Most notably, the USS Enterprise had survived this effect, and the flaw in the warp system had been quickly corrected by Montgomery Scott.

But what they saw on screen soon changed as the minutes dragged on. The blue and black tunnel took on more of a green tint and grew darker with sparks of energy arcing through the ship.

There was no time dilation thanks to the compensators the ship used, but the trip to wherever they were going was still eerily quiet, even with all the alarms flashing across the bridge and people trying to call out orders and reports.

Or was that just from Enalia's point of view? As she clung to her chair, it seemed like the rest of those on the bridge were responding to each other. She glanced over at the ops station where John Jones was telling her something. she could barely make out the words. Something about shields failing and end of a tunnel? It was almost surreal as she felt a pressure building in both her Trill and symbiont minds. She looked over towards the science station to Commander Sonak and was surprised to see his brow furrowed in concentration.

And then suddenly, they were out of the singularity.

The ship was no longer being buffeted.

In the R&D Lab, one of the Hera's newest transfers, Lieutenant JG Haruna Mizuhara, picked herself up off the floor, rubbing her head where she had been thrown to the deck. "Ah that's not good" she said feeling a trickle of blood from her hair. She must have a cut somewhere from the impact. She sighed as she looked at her latest research experiment, now on the floor in pieces. Ruined. She swore under her breath as she held onto a nearby workbench for support.

"What happened. How long was I out of it?" she asked herself. She looked around, she had been alone in the lab. "I should get to sickbay and sort this out" she told herself out loud as she wandered towards the door.

Back on the bridge, someone was pressing a hypo to Enalia's neck, and the world came back into focus.

Pressing her fingers to her head, the Trill woman blinked a few more times before nodding. "Thank you. I feel better now. What's our status?"

Ensign Jones replied first from Ops, somehow still clinging to his station with beads of sweat upon his anxious brow as he looked over the data he was receiving. "Shields are at... twenty-three percent and holding. We are in an unknown form of space... I've never seen readings quite like this before, Captain."

Taking over for the ensign, Paris rattled of facts from tactical, which she was watching in a subscreen. Back in her day she had flown the starship and manned the ship's weapons, and with the opportunity at hand, she couldn't help but frustrate her own subordinate to enjoy the modern starship's capabilities. "The three D'Deridex ships that preceded us in are here and are on minimal power. Looks like there's roughly eleven hundred crew between them. Reading consistent structural damage, but still maintaining minimal shields. One of them is likely going to lose life support in less than thirty minutes."

Looking up at the viewscreen to confirm what the readings were saying, Ensign Jones swallowed and reported his distressing discovery. "We are receiving no sub-space frequencies of any kind, and there are no detectable celestial bodies... there are no stars."

From the science station, Sonak provided more details.

''Sensors detect only the gravity and nuclear bonds of the ships in the immediate vicinity. There seems to be only space beyond. You will notice that our ship's chronometers, except our inner mental 'clocks', have all stopped.''

A glance was enough for anyone to confirm this unexpected situation, so Sonak continued.

''This means that our own mass, and that of the other ships should will us together; navigation corrections will be needed to avoid collision. However, we are also all drifting into a definite direction. This means that, somewhere in that space, there is something of considerable mass present. To have this effect and remain undetected by our sensors, it has to be something far beyond even the most massive star cluster ever recorded; or close by but undetectable, like a galactic super black hole as is projected the universe will become at the so-called end of time.''

Looking again at his instruments, the somber scientist tried to make sense of the strange readings he was given.

''There is no subspace domain present; meaning warp speed and subspace communications are impossible. Thrusters, impulse, batteries and generators, shields and weapons should remain unaffected. Yet, there is a minute drain of all power sources; as if this void is... slowly consuming them. And... there is this.''

He shifted the viewer to visualize the readouts. To their eyes appeared a roiling blackness with, at a distance, the occasional stream of sickly, green gas-like, swirling, indistinct shapes in this darkness. No stars or other light sources other than the occasional wisps of sparkles and gasses were in evidence.

''Sensors cannot identify the basic nature of these... clouds. Their signal is being absorbed. The infinitesimal drain we are experiencing on our systems points toward that location.''

Adjusting the readouts, the chief science officer brought up on the main viewer a magnification to show a great oblate sphere of luminous sand grains on a dark velvet.

''However, there is a background radiation of electromagnetic energy, much like our own cosmic background radiation, but here of a very particular frequency; the frequency of the organic brain.''

He looked at Captain Telvan.

''As we entered this area, my mental shields rose to block this frequency. I can still feel something constantly attempting to disrupt my mental faculties. There seems to be constant cerebral activity throughout this space, which has no specific source.''

"So does that mean we are in a subspace pocket, essentially?" Paris asked, an annoying headache trying to creep up on her.

''Negative. This is not part of or linked to subspace. It is a different reality; possibly another part of the multiverse vastly different yet still compatible to our form of existence... at least for a time.''

"Then we need to find our way out of... wherever this is. That means we need the help of the crews of the other ships here." Enalia tapped at her chair's console to review the tactical readouts and saw that two of the D'Deridex ships were righting themselves but the third was not. She also saw what looked like the remains of two, maybe three, Freight Eagles closer to whatever that was out there. "Hail the other ships. Let them know we mean no harm and want to get home as much as they do and are willing to render whatever aid they need."

"No subspace, which means no subspace radio, which is how everyone communicates in this day and age. Hmmm..." The pretty pilot furrowed her brow for a few seconds, then snapped her fingers. "We'll have to use good old radio waves. Miss S'Rina, please provide Ensign Jones with some coordinates to do some tight-beam radio wave projection to the hulls of those starships out there... all of them, if you please. Ensign Jones, prepare to record our message of goodwill and cooperation and instruction of how to communicate to them."

"We're going to get fancy with the deflector dish today, folks!"

---------------

Not far from the location of the Hera, on the bridge of the nearest of the three Warbirds, the bridge was in minor chaos. The emergency lights were on and several young crewmembers were busily trying to stifle a small fire that had broken out at the tactical station when their shields had collapsed along with the singularity they had been helping keep open. 

Running from station to station, was a very young-looking Romulan woman with mid-length, light brown hair styled in a traditional military cut. Her skin was a dark olive and her features sharp and severe, but her eyes revealed a woman over her head as a stream of green blood came from a gash across the side of her neck she had a rag pressed to. "Centurion, I need to you lock down that panel and get our shields up, NOW! We're in here with a Federation Vessel and I would appreciate some degree of defense, if it's not too much TROUBLE!"

Stopping by the command chair, she checked the readouts from her ship's undermanned departments and the other two Warbirds, including the dire report on the third ship as she let out a sigh. But as she did, an even younger officer from the communication post called over. "Commander, we're receiving a radio message from the enemy vessel. They are... saying that they wish to discuss a halt to hostilities and are offering... aid? To come together in trust to aid one another's escape from this place? Their words, not mine, Commander."

"Rhifv Areinnye daeohre..." the young woman said as she slid into her chair, muttering the Romulan equivalency of 'when hell freezes over', before she switched over to Federation standard. "I don't know what game they're playing, but put it on screen, Arrein."

"It's, ah, audio only, Commander. Radio waves, no visual component," the comms officer reminded the injured commander.

Tucking the bloody rag under her collar and hoping it wasn't noticeable to her crew, the young woman took a breath and wiped her brow as she sat up and addressed her blank screen. "Greetings. I am Commander Arnia t'Rekd of the IRW Sei."

"Commander Arnia t'Rekt of the IRW S..." Enalia had to pause as she glanced down to confirm the name of the ship. It was literally just numbered three rather than named... "Sei... This is Captain Enalia Telvan of the USS Hera. I will assume you're familiar with the Federation's weakness of a soft heart and penchant for offering aid to anyone that may even remotely seem to need it so I'll get straight to the point."

"We're in an unknown form of space with no way of contacting either of our commands, there's no reasonable hope of rescue from the outside, your ship, in particular, is in dire straights, and whatever is out there is breaking down the remains of three of your Freight Eagles. As I see it, we are in a position to render aid however you need and if we want to survive and return home, we'll need to work together."

The buxom Trill woman then leaned forward. "And I very much would prefer not to have any more needless deaths on my conscience today."

Looking across the expanse at the empty space with only the starships onscreen, the young Commander of the Warbird looked off to the side to her science station which was working feverishly to figure out exactly where they were. Looking up from the console, two crewmembers who looked no older than twenty nodded nervously, confirming that data she had just absorbed.

Sweat was forming on her brow again as she stalled, doing her best to look like an inscrutable trademark Romulan, she leaned in her chair and as she did, the rag tucked into her collar came loose and she felt a trickle of hot blood wet the front of her uniform tunic, and she nervously chewed the inside of her cheek, never thinking she would be glad for the thick, uncomfortable uniform she wore that wouldn't let that blood show easily.

Finally, she worked up some measure of a reply, the weakness of her position reading clearly in her voice as she tried to sound intimidating. "You speak as if I am somehow unaware that the words 'return home' mean a heroes welcome for you and the executioner's block somewhere on a Federation penal colony for us. As I see it, dire straits or not, t... three Warbirds still outnumber one Starship."

It was clear, just from the voice, even to the lowest ranking officer on the bridge of the Hera, that the Romulan commander was putting on a facade and bluffing.

"Execu..." Enalia pursed her lips and considered her response carefully. "The Federation hasn't executed anyone since its founding. I also represent the Artan Empire, who supports reunification, should you choose that path. As for the Romulan Empire... I won't pretend to speak for them, however if you and your crew have family and loved ones in danger and you choose not to return there, on my honor... on my mnhei'sahe as Queen of the Artans, we will do all we can to ensure their safety."

On the bridge of the hastily named Warbird, its Commander was taken aback by a Starship Captain evoking the name for the Romulan honor-code of the Ruling Passion. On the bridge, a few of the younger crewmembers froze for a moment and looked back at their clearly inexperienced leader, wondering what she would do.

As she pondered, however, at least some of the decision was yanked rather violently from her blood-covered hands as the warbird shuddered. "What was that?" She shouted to the reconstructed science station.

"Some... some kind of... force is acting upon the hull, Commander. At the rear, closest to the disturbance's edge, shields are gone and sensors indicated hull integrity is at... 63 percent and falling." Looking around the bridge, there was a welling of panic in the Commander's eyes as she thought for a moment. 

"I am the... ranking Commander amongst the other two ships, the Hwi and the Mne." She said to Enalia, referring to the other two warbirds, whose names were clearly just 'One' and 'Four'. "I will need to confer with them, but it appears that we have... little choice but to... take you at your word"

Shutting her eyes for a moment, she brought her hand back up to replace the blood-soaked rag, making it clearly visible that she was hurt as she bit her lip and looked down in shame. "There are approximately 400 crewmembers under my command, Captain. I... will not allow my pride to doom them to Areinnye. I... accept your aid."

Sonak openly addressed his commanding officer while communications were open.

''Captain; I have a working hypothesis. Since this space is devoid of masses close by except for our ships, it is possible that there is as suspected some much larger mass exerting this attraction. It could be easily tested and possibly countered by reversing shield polarity. Since shields are graviton-based, reverting them at the current distance would effectively act against this attraction, regardless of its nature.''

"Then do so, Commander Sonak. Divert all available power to shields and extend them around that Warbird, Ensign Jones. And stabilize them with a tractor beam. Commander Paris, please get us as close as possible." Enalia was looking over her tactical display, trying to figure out if the ship could be saved or if it should be abandoned and from where she was sitting, it was looking like the core wasn't fit to last much longer.

"Acknowledged,'' the Vulcan answered as his fingers played on his console. ''Tactical, I have tested the shield harmonics and the hypothesis is confirmed. I am sending to your controls the proper calculations for shield polarity and connecting sensors to compensate for any change in the pull. Ops, I am sending you the same calculations for the tractor beam. Although it will push instead of pulling, this will make no difference as far as stabilizing the target is concerned. it will, however, help strengthen the shield's effect.''

"Close? There's a docking port over there on Deck 19. I can match speed and rotation with her and dock if you'd like. Alright, Ensign Jones, you've got the sensors worked into the tractors, let's help the old lady stick the landing, shall we? Sharing my controls, let's get into position, shall we?" As she spoke, Paris was tapping away at the console, plugging in the math to let the computer crunch the numbers, recalibrating the input if the results weren't to her liking. A dozen flight resolutions later she had it in the ballpark, which would be close enough.

"Here we go," Rita Paris engaged the thrusters, and for the first time in a long time, got to just fly the mighty starship on thrusters only, almost like an atmospheric craft. Making minute changes to her trajectory, she let the computer project the flight plan as she flew, and Rita grinned. Mona Gonadie had indeed built a wonder with this piloting interface, and the starship was genuinely a joy to fly.

"Commander t'Rekd, I believe our first order of business is the state of your ill-named vessel. Our sensors indicate that you have just over twenty minutes of life support left and the core has little more than that. Do you prefer engineering assistance or evacuation assistance?"

On the bridge of the Warbird, it's young Commander had been following the discussion over the open channel, looked at her ragged and anxious bridge crew as she considered Enalia's words. Allowing Starfleet officers into their engine room would brand her a traitor. If she ever was to return to the Star Empire, she would be destroyed. Her name would be written and burned three times. Her family's property seized. And that was all if she would even live. 

But to evacuate the crew to a Federation Starship, could mean far worse for herself and the crew. She would have no choice but to accept this strange woman's offer of assistance, which meant she would like never see the light of her homestar again. "The... the graviton generator caused a feedback to the power regulators in our engine core. It is in collapse, as your sensors determined."

"We... have lost 14 crewmembers locking down the singularity for now. If we were to reroute all available power to the core shielding, our Master Engineer believes we can keep the core from imploding. We would simply be without gravity or breathable air." t'Rekt took a long breath before she nodded. "This ship... is doomed, Captain. I have failed her and I have failed my Empire. I cannot fail those who s... swore to serve under my command."

From the helm, an officer,s eyes went wide. "C... Commander? You cannot..."

"Silence, Arrain. You are still under my command. And I am commanding that you live!" t'Rekd shouted out, wincing in pain as she did as more green blood filled the hand at her neck and she became pale and began to wobble slightly in her seat. "You have your orders. Inform the crew. We are... surrendering. Obey your oaths and I shall take full responsibility with the Imperium."

Turning back to the viewscreen, she nodded as she flumped in the seat of her cursed vessel. "I officially p... petition your aid, Captain Telvan, for... evacuation."

"Then that's what we'll do. However, in order to evacuate everyone in time, we'll need aid from your sister ships. Please have them evacuate the uninjured and prepare those that need treatment to be beamed aboard the Hera." The Trill captain, now with a clear course of action, opened a channel to sickbay. "Doctor, prepare to receive at least one hundred Rihannsu patients. I recommend you start replicating replacement copper-based blood immediately and activate the triage ward as well. We'll be beaming people in shortly."

= ^=Acknowledged Captain=^= was all Dr. Mah gave time for.

Having gotten a response back from the Doctor, Enalia turned her attention back to her olive-skinned counterpart out there across the expanse. "Now... What say we solve another issue that I think bothers both of us? Your ships have no proper names and are just numbered. To the Artans, a ship without a proper nameplate is no real vessel of the stars. Just a boat without an oar. Yours may be doomed, but I think she at least deserves a name to remember her by, don't you?"

"My sisterships may yet survive. They deserves true names, Captain. I have... done this ship and her crew a disservice. But you... know the ways of my people well." t'Rekt tapped instructions into the console of her chair. "My sisterships may not agree with my orders, but they will follow them, Captain."

Pulling the soaked, green rag from her neck, t'Rekt wobbled in her chair and muttered as she clutched the arm. "Perhaps the SubCommander will... will... have a suggestion for a name... when he replaces... replaces me. Our shields are down and remaining power is being rerouted to contain the singularity core. We are collecting our injured in our medical bay for transport now." As the blood loss finally became too much for her, the young officer passed out in her chair.

From the science station, one of the two young officers ran over to check t'Rekt's weak pulse and tapped the console. "Captain. Our Commander speaks for her entire crew. We are ready."

Enalia nodded and gave the order. "Then prepare for mass transports. Ensign Jones, coordinate with the other two warbirds - I want everyone off of the IRW..." The spotted woman paused a moment before a thought came to her - perhaps a bit of inspiration from the voice of the Subcommander out there. Her father's ship had been named Third Star, and with what happened to it, she felt it was fitting here for some reason. "I want everyone off of the IRW Nuseir Saeihr ,and a safe distance between us in less than fifteen minutes."

"Aye, Captain. Transmitting beaming frequencies and protocols now for evacuation and assigning responsibilities to each vessel now." The Martian Ensign's hands flew across his consoles - this was what he was best at. Spreadsheets and assignments like this. He'd have most of this done in less than a minute and beaming would begin in... "The worst cases are being beamed directly to sickbay now. The Warbirds report receipt of the first wave of evacuees as well."

"Subcommander, will you join us on our bridge?" Enalia asked, even as t'Rekt was beamed away.

Looking at the empty chair a moment, the young SubCommander nodded respectfully, but anxiously. "As my Commander has ordered, I shall obey."

"Aaaaaaand-" there was a metallic 'T-CHUD' and a bit of vibration, or lack thereof, as the docking maneuver was completed. "Docking accomplished, handshake made, we are good to evacuate, Captain Telvan." With that, Paris spun around in her chair, crossing her legs in a clearly practiced pose as she beamed the million-watt smile she pulled out when she was particularly proud of herself.

"You did say close, right...?"