Haumea Colony

A Play-by-Nova roleplay game.

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Tigerlilly awakes

Posted on Mon Mar 4th, 2024 @ 11:15pm by Lieutenant Commander Lylja Tigerlilly

1,265 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Crossed Wires
Location: Out there
Timeline: Before

[I wrote this as my writing sample, figured it should be seen by everyone as I had a good time writing it.]

Lylja could not remember being so cold, it consumed all of her thoughts but for some reason, she could not move or even shiver. Why was she so cold?

—--

“The Borg cube is closing!”

“We cannot outrun it!”

“Operations has gamed out a theory,” said Lylja. “If we used a burst of quantum torpedos tuned to the right warp frequencies we could shatter the cube’s link to the warp tunnel.”

“Wouldn’t that collapse our warp field too?”

“Probably,” said Lylja. “But is not the risk better than being caught by the Borg?”

—--

The chief engineer of the USS Constellation looked over the battered life pod. “How long has this poor lass been floating in space?”

“Long enough that the power for the stasis field to be almost out of power,” said his assistant.

The engineer gave a low whistle. “Those are rated for a minimum of four years.”

“Medical here,” said the com. “Bring the stasis pod up via turbo lift, we cannot risk the transporter disrupting the stasis field.”

“You heard the Docs, let’s crack the pod and get the stasis unit out,” said the chief engineer. “They are lucky we found them, that damaged transponder was just a whisper in the big sea of space.”

—--

Was that warmth? And light? When had she last seen light?

A distant voice, a kind voice was saying something. But it did not make sense. She should understand it . . . but it was too fast? She could almost grasp it and then she sunk into blissful sleep.

—--

“Everyone get to the escape pods,” ordered the Captain, the broadcast echoed through the ship.

Lylja glanced at the power system board, almost everything had crossed in the red line or beyond. “Captain . . .”

“You have done your part, Lylja,” he said. She was momentarily shocked, he never used her first name. “I will take it from here, my command, my duty. Get to the pod, that way you will have a chance.”

“Yes, sir,” she said stranding and following the others. “Good luck, sir. It has been an honor.”

“For me as well,” he nodded from the tactical board. “Computer let me know when ninty-eight percent of the crew is aboard the escape pods.”

“Affirmative, currently seven-seven percent.”

Lylja was the last through the door to the bridge level escape pods.

“Eighty-two percent,” said the computer behind her as the door hissed closed.

—--

“This is about as badly damaged I have seen a working stasis unit,” said the engineer as he placed it in the medical bay. “I suspect whoever is inside may have started to experience the flow of time again if remarkably slowly.”

“That would be horrible,” said the Alpha Centurian nurse. “I hope you are wrong about that.”

The chief engineer shrugged. “Let me know if you need any more help.”

The Doctor stepped forward. “We can take it from here, chief. Thank you.”

—--

It was warm, it was so nice to be warm at last. Lylja stretched. She could move! She could feel her muscles shift and strain.

“Doctor, your patient is awake,” said a voice she did not recognize.

Lylja’s eyes fluttered open and immediately closed against the light. She knew it was not excessively bright but it hurt all the same.

“You are safe, Lieutenant Commander,” said another voice she did not recognize. “You are aboard the USS Constellation.”

She tried to speak but only managed a croak. A straw was placed between her jaws and she gratefully took a drink and then another. She knew it was just enhanced water but it tasted so good. After a few tries she finally got her words out. “The Apollo? My crewmates?”

The look that passed between the doctor and nurse told her everything she needed to know.

“Lieutenant Commander,” said the doctor. “The USS Apollo was listed as lost with all hands just over five years ago.”

“Five years. . .” said Lylja, her voice cracking with anguish.

“Sleep,” the doctor said and with the hiss from a hypo, Lylja fell into a dreamless sleep.

—--

Lylja strapped herself into the escape pod and activated the ready sequence. She watched the lights snap over to green. Suddenly, she felt the acceleration as the pod ejected followed by a hammer blow against the exterior and then . . . it all went black.

—--

Lylja jogged along on the treadmill as the nurse monitored her vitals.

“Everything checks out, you are as physically fit as on your last medical exam,” they said as Lylja slowed and stopped.

“That only seems a couple of weeks back to me,” she said stepping off and taking a sip of water.

“You keep yourself in good shape.”

“Healthy mind in a healthy body, yes,” laughed Lylja. “Besides, I like to dance, and that requires being in shape.”

“I would like to see that,” said the nurse.

“Well, once I am cleared, we can dance in the holodeck,”

The nurse nodded. “If I may say, Tigerlilly, you are taking this all very well.”

“Oh, I am very, very broken up,” said Lylja. “But I cannot change the past. I will grieve for my friends and my crew as I can. But life must go on. I am just glad I did not have a mate or children, the pain of thinking I was dead . . . “ she shook her head. “That would have torn me up even worse that anything else. I hate the fact that I caused pain to my friends and family,” she held up her hand.
“I know, I should not blame myself for surviving. But . . . it was my idea that led to the destruction of the Apollo,” finished Lylja.

“To avoid the Borg, there were no good options,” said the nurse.

“It does not make the pain less,” said Lylja with a sad smile.

—-

“Lieutenant Commander,” said Admiral Z’yin, a Vulcan who oversaw the Operations departments, “it is gratifying that you wish to remain in Starfleet. Many who underwent such trauma would choose to step aside from the sort of tasks that led to the trauma in the first place.”

“Admiral,” said Lylja, “Starfleet has been my life. How, why, would I give that up? I love solving problems and helping people; Starfleet is the best place. I want to keep serving, keep helping.”

“Admirable,” said the Admiral. “The Counselors have approved you for duty. But it has been decided that you need some time to adjust to the changes while you were in stasis. As you have experience with colonies, we are sending you to Haumea.”

“Well, I had hoped for another ship, but a colony will work,” said Lylja. “Thank you for helping me to stay in Starfleet, Admiral.”

Z’yin raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean, Lieutenant Commander? I only made sure that had the same opportunity as anyone else would have.”

“You know that counselors talk, yes?” said Lylja. “They were surprised that some of the best trauma specialists were rotated back to Terra, coincidentally, just as I was arriving for treatment before my evaluation.”

“Surely, just a coincidence, Lieutenant-commander,” said the Vulcan.

Lylja smiled. “Well, thank you all the same, Admiral.”

—-

Lylja watched the screen as the shuttle cut through the atmosphere. The view of the planet had been welcoming and she was excited to be on a new planet. A new job, a new beginning, how could one not be excited and hopeful?

 

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