Main Sim - Fulcrum Runabout - Reality Bubble Fishing!

Posted June 15, 2021, 3:17 p.m. by Fleet Captain Drudoc Andone (Commanding Officer) (Robert Archer)


MiniFayth spoke up again seeming even more on the verge of outright panic. “..Please you need to hurry the little ones are being drawn in nearer to the....the beam thing!” She said referring to the collection particle emission that the small alien ship was using to sweep up the Boridium. If they were going to do something it should be very soon!

GM CockRoach

“Weir we’re going with your idea. Get the boridium out there,” she turned to the pilot, “Once he’s got the boridum set up do and go where ever he tells you to.” The NE pilot nodded. She looked at Mazi and Belmont, “Both good ideas, but we have to keep in mind the prime directive, we can’t interfere with them directly. And incase anyone has forgotten we aren’t exactly equipped to defend ourselves and we have no security or tactical personnel with us.”
Lt jg Fayth, CSO

Nodding briskly, Caelian got to work. He didn’t need to be a telepath to pick up on the tension in the cabin. His mind and fingers worked quickly as he performed a few calculations and a last-minute check of their systems. With the runabout fully on standard power, he was confident that the ship would perform as expected. Noting some of the readings from the boridium drive’s shutdown sequence, a burst of inspiration swept through him.

“Pilot,” he called out while his hands set to work on his console, “bring us to heading two-eight-three and engage at one-quarter impulse. Take a casual arc along the course I’m entering now; it should bring us close enough to the denser patches of protoforms without making us look aggressive.”

Once the approach was confirmed, the engineer entered a few commands into his console. The boridium engine hummed briefly, then faded to quiescence. A subtle hiss resonated from the hull at the aft of the runabout as the ship began to vent the leftover hydrogen-plasma mixture. Sweat began to bead on his brow as he watched the sensor readings, noting the dissipation and expansion rates. Good, he thought grimly, the impulse eddy is pushing it right where we need it to go.

As they began their pass through the denser pockets of protoforms, Caelian deployed the refined boridium behind the runabout as he’d suggested. He let it drift for a moment before snagging it with the tractor beam, noted how to protoforms reacted to it. “The bait’s been laid, Lieutenant, and shields are holding. Now to see if they bite and follow.”

There was a somber satisfaction as he noted how their vented wake wafted into the boridium patch the aliens were harvesting, tried not to smile as the charged cloud diffused their tractor beam just enough to interfere with its cohesion. While the effect was temporary and otherwise harmless, he hoped it would give the protoforms caught in the beam time to break free and follow them away. Perhaps then it would make up for his earlier mistake, show them that they had meant no harm.

Caelian was confident that his actions couldn’t be considered in violation of the prime directive. General Order One prohibited Starfleet vessels and officers from interfering with the internal and natural development of alien civilizations; delaying the aliens from harvesting boridium wouldn’t adversely impact their development, just prove an inconvenience. As far as they were concerned, the protoforms didn’t have a culture or natural development to be interfered with—and if they did, Starfleet itself had introduced it with the arrival of the Ark Angel—so it would have been their duty to rectify it. Regardless, the alien’s technology was obviously on-par with their own, so he couldn’t be faulted for using their own advancements to “unjust advantage.”

Hopefully Sharah and the captain would see it that way. Regardless, Caelian felt the right of it and would gladly accept whatever punishment came of it.

“That should give us enough time for them to catch the scent,” he murmured to the pilot. “Set a course for the Angel and increase speed until the protoforms struggle to keep up. Let’s see what they can do!”
—Caelian Weir, Engineer—

As the ‘fishing hook’ was laid out the ‘little ones’ took the bait it seems, mass flocking groups ranging from microscopic to the size of a human hand started trailing after the runabout. The disruption to the alien crafts ‘scoop’ effort got them a few vulgar comm bursts from the alien ship something that rudely translated roughly as ‘damn alien tourists’. After the little ones had cleared the area the alien ship went back to scooping up Boridium innocent it seems of the reality bubble’s existence small or larger for that matter.

The NE pilot called out. “..We’re topping out at .15c sublight about half impulse, any faster and those little uh things aint keeping up I think. Sensors are also showing a larger grouping following in our wake as well, not sure what that’s about.” he reported. “..ETA till we get back to the Ark Angel about an hour or two at this rate.”

GM CockRoach

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