Markus had been in storage taking inventory of the ship’s miserable compliment of scientific equipment. Most of the stations were in one piece, but the replicator was questionable, and the non-replicated supplies were low. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought half of it had been hawked off onto the black market. But last he checked there hadn’t been any Ferengi visitors to the ship.
Everything was otherwise fine. Then the decking of the ship bucked, throwing him into a bulkhead. He caromed off the wall, only for one of the shelves to pitch forward, slamming into the the wall over him, dumping beakers, glass, and even a few pieces of equipment that smashed down on him under the ship’s relentless artificial gravity. One such piece slammed into his head, which rebounded hard off of the decking with an audible ring. The world spun and his vision went blurry.
“Warning: warp core breach imminent. 30 seconds to detonation.”
“What? No, no no,” protested the scientist. He forced his eyes to work as the lights overhead flickered fitfully. He’d fetched up against the wall, and was partially covered. Surely engineering could eject the core before the breach happened. Surely.
“Warning: warp core breach imminent. Detonation in progress.”
“No,” he bellowed, struggling against the shelving pinning him down. His leg hurt abominably and his head pulsed with each throb of his heart. He tasted blood, and something else he couldn’t quite place. Why weren’t they doing anything? He didn’t want to die like this!
“Warning: warp core has breached. 20 seconds past detonation.”
“What,” he said in complete dismay and disbelief.
Then everything went black.
“Figures,” Markus said bitterly in the absolute pitch black of the supply room. He took a few moments to steady is breath and his heartbeat. Yeah, he was hurt, but he wasn’t dead, and maybe it was superficial. Casting about, he felt for his padd and found it glowing faithfully in the ocean of pitch black. Reaching for it, he made out the faint glow around his hand which only confirmed his positioning. Picking it up, he turned the display’s brightness to full power and sat it down, letting the glow fill the room and define the outlines and edges of things a bit.
In frustration, he pulled his leg to the side, freeing it from it’s confines. Rubbing it over, he checked what he could palpate, as well as soothe it. If there was a fracture, it was minor, but he didn’t feel any particular damage though it was tender to the touch. Grumpily he spat more blood to the side and rested his head against the cool bulkhead, letting the metal soothe his pounding head.
“Well, this is a fine mess,” he muttered. Reaching down, he activated his combadge. Or attempted to as he idly slapped at it, seeing if it would activate.
Lt Woods, CSO
((OOC: Sorry I’m late to the party. I know Ande was here, but has since left. Hope ya don’t mind. And Markus might have actually lost consciousness for a bit with basically something like a computer CRT monitor falling on his head.
Feel free to hit me up via the STF mailer or hit me on discord if you want more information to torment our CSO with.))
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