Sakado-Satte
13-06-2007, 06:32
A lone, large vessel cruised the depths of deep space. It was nearly flawless, as a ship; with regards to thermal emissions it could have been a void, and its surface was nearly frictionless.
It was a dying vessel, however. It moved slower than light, taking long periods of time – weeks or months – to traverse distances that would be considered short by FTL standards – and with each passing month a bit more of it gave in, to an unimaginable cancer called the Melding Plague.
The Plague was an affliction caused by nanomachines; at room temperature, it can devour an ordinary human in a matter or minutes, or even seconds. However the ship was chilled to a temperature close to absolute zero, keeping the virus at bay – but only for a limited amount of time, until the cooling systems gave in as well.
At four years outsystem, the ship finally alerted its crew to its disease. Captain Valentina Sarov woke from reefersleep to find that the main drive had shifted three kilometers forward, 140,000 people were missing, and worst of all quarter of her ship had gone to vaccuum.
Subsequent to downing several ‘comfort shots’ of vodka, Sarov recorded a message which was radio-broadcast throughout local space:
Vessel Identifier: Solaris-124316
Request: Aid (Status as o. recording: Semi-Critical; current predicted status: Critical)
Ailing: Melding Plague (nanomachine, replicator)
Velocity: As o. recording: .99c; current predicted: .12c
Source System: Sakado-Satte (HIP 35263 / HD 56597 / SAO 152665)
Directed to System: Udzha (HIP 34499 / HD 54574 / SAO 152460) (754.22 ly.)
Text: Dear Captain/Overlord/Whatever:
Need help. Quarter of ship has been digested by Melding Plague. We are the last, Home is blobs of gray goo. Crew number was 1 million; has been reduced significantly. Virus continues to advance. It will destroy the ship within thirty years or so. All crew are in reefersleep, which I will enter shortly after completing this message, to wipe the alcohol from my head. If I’m still alive by the time someone discovers this ship, consider this a formal salutations. Salutations.
She set the message on an infinite loop, playing for years until someone found it, or the Plague digested the ship’s comm towers. OOC: By the time anyone in the vicinity recieves this message several years will have passed. Go figure.
It was a dying vessel, however. It moved slower than light, taking long periods of time – weeks or months – to traverse distances that would be considered short by FTL standards – and with each passing month a bit more of it gave in, to an unimaginable cancer called the Melding Plague.
The Plague was an affliction caused by nanomachines; at room temperature, it can devour an ordinary human in a matter or minutes, or even seconds. However the ship was chilled to a temperature close to absolute zero, keeping the virus at bay – but only for a limited amount of time, until the cooling systems gave in as well.
At four years outsystem, the ship finally alerted its crew to its disease. Captain Valentina Sarov woke from reefersleep to find that the main drive had shifted three kilometers forward, 140,000 people were missing, and worst of all quarter of her ship had gone to vaccuum.
Subsequent to downing several ‘comfort shots’ of vodka, Sarov recorded a message which was radio-broadcast throughout local space:
Vessel Identifier: Solaris-124316
Request: Aid (Status as o. recording: Semi-Critical; current predicted status: Critical)
Ailing: Melding Plague (nanomachine, replicator)
Velocity: As o. recording: .99c; current predicted: .12c
Source System: Sakado-Satte (HIP 35263 / HD 56597 / SAO 152665)
Directed to System: Udzha (HIP 34499 / HD 54574 / SAO 152460) (754.22 ly.)
Text: Dear Captain/Overlord/Whatever:
Need help. Quarter of ship has been digested by Melding Plague. We are the last, Home is blobs of gray goo. Crew number was 1 million; has been reduced significantly. Virus continues to advance. It will destroy the ship within thirty years or so. All crew are in reefersleep, which I will enter shortly after completing this message, to wipe the alcohol from my head. If I’m still alive by the time someone discovers this ship, consider this a formal salutations. Salutations.
She set the message on an infinite loop, playing for years until someone found it, or the Plague digested the ship’s comm towers. OOC: By the time anyone in the vicinity recieves this message several years will have passed. Go figure.