Very Much Alone [Star Crew]

[Lance Howe]

"Stay down, Jordan." The doctor repeated a little more sternly. Wounded, drugged up, and in shock Jordan was not what he needed right now. Unfortunately, none of the crew were ever "good patients", emergency or not. Lance cast a glance over toward his miracle toxin and for a moment he contemplated medically immobilizing the mechanic just to save the potential hassle.

"I haven't seen it but we're still alive, ain't we?" Lance grabbed the metal fragment out of Jordan's hand as he answered about the engine. The state she was in, the damn thing could probably find its way stuck back in her body fairly easily, but it got her talking on something a little more focused.

"Cap'n, Jordan's sayin' something about lines and tanks." Lance reported over the intercom. "I hope that doesn't mean we're about to have another explosion." Report finished, Lance grabbed his burn kit and walked back to Jordan to begin treating her final injuries. Hopefully by the time she could form complete sentences and walk, she'd be patched up enough to actually work.

[Lars Engström]

"How the frakk do you do it, Jordan?" Lars grumbled, as he squeezed into the inner workings of the engine, and began to work. He did his best to fix what he could. He heard the voice over the comm, and had a moments pause. "Oh son of a...." It seemed he would have to pull himself out of the cramped place he had just gotten into.

He remembered the portable comm in his waistband just before he pulled himself out of the engine. "The ships computer shut it off automatically." He said. He realized just how dirty he had become in a very short time. "I take it she is awake?" He asked, "How long before I can have her down here?"

[Jordan Maxwell]

All good things and all that. Jordan laid when the doctor told her to. She hunkered down into her bed and allowed her eyes to close her hands trembled lightly and she just needed a moment to collect her thoughts, though, the more she tried the harder it became. In fact, how did the lights get all……. Fuzzy? That was indeed a good question. She looked over at Lance and in a calm fashion said. “When did ya’ figure out how ta’ grow fuzz on lights?” Each beam seemed to have it’s own unique amount of fuzz on it. Some larger than others they were thick and coated, others had a thin later, or perhaps that blow to her head was just making her a little loopy when she didn’t focus on something.

She watched at the doctor started to relay her question, though she didn’t get the answer she was hoping to hear, her speech was still off kilter as well. It didn’t matter, they seemed to get the jest even if not completely. “Tell ‘em not to touch ma’ engine, he’ll just screw it up anyway. He ain’t.. he don’t got the softest touch for ma’ baba…” Her words were a little muffled and a lot of it made no sense. Her eyes closed and remained so almost drifting back off into a light sleep when he started to work on her burns.

It was a moment, maybe two of three until Lars’ voice came over the intercom. She jumped at the sound and her eyes shot open. Her tiny hands gripped the sides of the bed as if she had been caught in a dream. She missed their captain telling them what had happened with the engine. She didn’t care either however. Her eyes looked around for a moment then settled back on the doctor. “I’m ready now.” She tried to sound more sober than she felt. Not that the young mechanic really knew what drunk felt like.

[Lance Howe]

"Hah!" Lance replied rather loudly to Jordan's assurances that she could be released from his care. "Well, it's an improvement that you've managed to string together a coherent sentence even if it's only three words. Doesn't mean you weren't rambling on and talking about the lights being 'fuzzy' just a minute ago." He kept working on her burns.

"I'm sure the ship can wait until you at least collect yourself mentally if not physically." Lance added, knowing that his prior comment would not be enough. "Since we're not being sucked out into space, I take it we've got some time to get things sorted and fixed up right. ... Don't want you passing out while workin' on the engine and making a bigger mess now."

He offered her a hand up. "How 'bout you relocate to take a seat next to the intercom to keep talking with the captain while I finish up here?"

[Jordan Maxwell]

Jordan was going to argue with the doctor but one look from his eyes and she just nodded. What use was it to fight him? The young woman’s eyes traveled to Dru and her heart sank though she tried not to let it show. The mechanic took his hand and slowly scooted off the bed, though she gripped harder when she found her legs uneasy to stand upon. With some help from the ‘kind’ medic she made her way to the intercom and pressed the button just as she sat down. “What are ya’ doin’ ta’ ma’ baba’?” She asked a little more slurred than normal. Only this time she heard that she was not saying her words right. Her hand touch her tongue nope still intact. She then looked around at herself as if somehow something externally on her legs or arms was the cause of her speaking poorly. She ignored that after a second and hit the button again.

“How bad is she? Is she still breathin’? Does anythin’ turn? Wha’ parts are missin’? can ya’ describe ‘er?” Jordan was already getting antsy to see the engine she needed to know what it looked like so she could even offer help. Her finger moved off the button and she looked back at Lance. “Is Dru gonna be ok?” Her head leaned up against the wall as she watched the woman laying on the bed that was next to hers. The mechanic tried her best to calm herself, though tears were already in her eyes. “We were jus’ talkin’ when it blew up, I heard da’ whine and she pulled me away just as it started ta’ go crazy…” There had been nothing she could have done to stop the flaw in the engine, nothing short of a rebuild of the part that failed, not that she had heard anything from the Star about the part going bad.

[Lars Engström]

"If a star exploded, and then someone ate what was left, and then lost their lunch." Lars mused, "This is what it would look like." He was talking to Jordan, and he thanked God she was awake. "But in the more technical sense...." He thought for a moment.

"Most of the fuel lines are toast. The main survived, and the safety valve shut off the flow. The damn compression coil is gone again.... and it looks like the main shaft has about a foot and a half crack in it." He swore, "No way we'll get this thing to give us a hard burn." He looked around. "Most of the life support systems are intact. And we have a little time to play with, because our backups are still online." He was being very liberal in his time estimates, because he needed people calm.

"If we can find a way to at least get her limping...." He shook his head, "As long as we can get main life support back I think we can make it work out." He bit his lip. "Trace, anything on your end?"

"Nothing." Trace said, with a sigh. He had set up every type of distress beacon he could think of, and so far nothing had come back. "But someone's bound to pass by soon."

[Jordan Maxwell]

Jordan closed her eyes listening to Lars talk about the engine. “We are so humped…” She opened her eyes and sighed. “We can take parts from some of da escape pods and I got spares in da cargo bay.” She rested one of her hands on her thigh. She couldn’t believe it there was almost no way without just throwing something in there and hoping it lasted, they might get a landing out of the ship but he was talking about a major repair and they needed to be limping? Her finger slipped off the button and she groaned. “Der is a coil in da’ cubby under da engine. If ya’ can fit… It gets right for me in dere.” She check her tongue again then sighed, her eyes closed as the room started to spin.

“The main shaft is…” She trailed off, her hand slipped off the button she was holding and she laid there against the wall passed out but sleeping rather soundly considering her position. Inside of the cubby would be several odds and ends parts that she had been buying with her share of the money, hundreds of credits worth of parts, most looking as though she refurbished them.

[Jeff Weston]

Jeff heard all that went on the inside of the ship. Looked like jordan was back with the living. They all needed her there but her being then physically was the problem. So Jeff had to let a smallish cat out of the bag as it were. Re-entering the ship he made his was down to his room which was tossed by the damaging of the ship. Grabbing his assult rifle he removed the optic scope and grabbed a data wifi-ed pad.

Turning down to the ship's med-suite he ruffly stomped his way in with his mag boots still on.

Here take this, we'll be right with ya. Oh, lookin good lov.

Jeff nodded as he passed his data pad which he had up-loaded his evo-venture and outside repairs. Now in a pop-up window on the lower right corner showed the steel flooring swaying back and forth with one of his mag boots in the frame every once in awhile.

Switching off his mags he ran faster to the engine room where the cap was flopping around all covered in black soot and grease. Holding up the optic sights it took in the view of the defiled room with all it's horror. Jeff moved with a steady hand to the top of the engine and slowly showed the upper portion of it.
Moving down he worked the camra to all the angles till he too was on his metal back.

Does this help you love?