NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: for simplicity, the FT Beatusians are not human, and of their own race. It is a mire coincidence that they share a name, and other basic elements, or may be connected to the Path of the Blessed, and the Great Bob, which both peoples follow devotedly.]

BST Petticoat
Approximately 4 months from Colony Alpha Beta Prostate

Three Gustert 200-3 Locomotives, pulled the long space train through space. Each of the locomotives 2 Sub-Quantum Relative-Geometric Dioxin Thrusters, helping to propel the space train forward. They were hauling 32 passenger cars, and 214 freight cars towards Colony Alpha Beta Prostate. In total, the train was approximately 2.5 miles in length. It was traveling at 20 times the speed of light, and they expected to reach the Colony within 4 months. The train was fully loaded, with 512 passengers, and 847,440 cubic feat of cargo, mainly tea.

The time was just about 8 PM, Unified Standard Time, the time all trains ran on, and most of the passengers were enjoying entertainment in their rooms, or entertaining each other, when a sound wave shot through the train, the sound of a muffled explosion, followed seconds later, by a great jarring motion. The lights flickered through the train from a power serge, and the train shook again, as emergency thrusters kicked in, deaccelerating the train. Life support systems were fine, and there was no hull damage.

However, one of Engine Number Two's Sub-Quantum Relative-Geometric Dioxin Thrusters' fuel lines ruptured, causing rapid loss of pressure in the fuel system, and sending toxic dioxin spraying into space. The rupture, and subsequential spray of dioxin, moved Engine Number Two to the right, a direction it had not been designed to move in with such force. As such, the coupling with Engine Number Three, broke, severing the first two engines from the rest of the train, and triggering emergency conditions through out the train, as a major loss of power occurred.

As Engine Number Two's fuel pressure, continued to drop, due to the fuel venting, a new situation developed. Fuel lines within the engine, were not designed as strong as those outside the engine, they were designed to operate within a pressurized environment, however, with rapid depressurization, within the fuel system, there was no force acting against the pressure within the engine, causing the fuel lines to rupture within the engine, and the cabin began losing atmosphere.

The Engineers were able to make it to the hatch to Engine Number One, and seal the air lock between the two engines, however, they had no way, of repairing Engine Number Two, and with out access, and had no way of disconnecting it from Engine Number One. Nor did they have any way of reconnecting Engine Number Two, with Engine Number Three, if that was even possible.

Engine Number One was also now in trouble, as that had effectively doubled their crew, by taking those in from Engine Number Two, and where cut off from Life Support, in the Tender, where the life support systems were. Normally, Engine Number One's emergency life support system, would be able to handle converting the CO2 to oxygen for the crew, but with those numbers doubled, it was unknown how long the emergency system could last, not to mention, that their emergency water supply would only last 36-48 hours.

The rest of the train, was in a much better situation, other than the fact, that they were stuck for a while. The chief Engineer, was on Engine Number Three, the standard comms line had been severed with the Engine 2-3 coupling, so they use short range radio communications, which were working. Engine Number One, informed them of their situation, and the fact, that they were drifting away from the train, at a rate of 40 ft. per hour. It would be too difficult, and dangerous for Engine Number One to attempt to turn around. They also reported damage, as power surges form Engine Number Two, whose computers were also not designed to operate in a non-pressurized environment, caused damage to Engine Number Ones Computers. However, again, such connections would be severed from Engine Number Two, which was now impossible.

At this point, Engine Number Three, decided to send out a distress single, however, the chance of response was unlikely, they were far from any Known Beatusian Colonies, other than Alpha Beta Prostate, the farthest Beatusian Colony from the homeworld. Chief Engineer Denis Greg, sent out this transmission, on low frequency long range communications. A wire, running the length of the train, provided a 2.5 mile long antenna, to broadcast the single,

"This is Beatusian Space Train Petticoat. We have suffered a critical engine failure. Engine Number Two was evacuated, following Dioxin leak. Engines One, and Two, have come uncoupled, and are drifting. Request immediate assistance, situation Blue, situation Blue."

The message was set on a loop. The final part of the message, would inform other Beatusian ships in the area, that this was considered a life threatening emergency, most likely requiring immediate medical treatment upon rescue.

[OOC: for your convenience, images:
Passenger Cars (http://img13.imageshack.us/img13/3046/passengercar.png)
Cargo Cars (http://img14.imageshack.us/img14/289/cargocar.png)
Engines (http://img22.imageshack.us/img22/9541/spacetrain1.png)]

[Edit: divided into paragraphs for better formatting, and fixed Grammatical errors.]

Ooc: Paragraphs, please. :D

19/3/1002 - Aboard the long range “Aging Pensioner” Scrap yard class

“Captains log, article five, subsection three niner golf zero. It is a long boring trip, the endless stars and absence of colour and life, we have found little to peddle our wares too, those we find have no need for the services we offer but this trip was successful to say only the least, as we came across a single world, who paid a truly exuberant material prince in order for us to stitch together the cracks in there primary moon, the primitive pre-space world offered more for what little technology we could offer, the world has been marked down to trading and establishing of outposts in accordance with the rules of commerce. Lt. Mj Debtor Esai Moni said, a long dull drone of a voice captured in minute and excruciating detail, saved filed and packaged away in triplicate, he slowly put down the recording chip, a graceful arc and a soft thud marked its passage to the other side of the room, sliding effortlessly into a large receptacle the small chip sped down towards the billing office.

Straightening his tie, and tilting his top hat a redescribed 1.45345642397887344 Degrees to galactic north, he turned to face his bridge crew nodded slightly, and motioned for everyone to carry on, which is what they were doing, he sighed, and deep down he wished for something less that ordinary, something with risks and excitement to happen to him, and his poor little old Scrap Yard Class Battle cruiser / Super Hauler.

Almost as if conjured by the magic’s of thought and pray, his prayers ( Filled in triplicate and sent to the office of official zealous relations before ) was answered by some deity or other that had entered a legal and binding contract to provide this one mortal, and those under his command some excitement and profit.

The shrill cry of a alarm, blared across the bridge as combi scuttled from station to station in orderly fills and ranks, guards snapped to attention and the forward view screen brought out of power save mode. “All crew liability waivers are assumed signed and filed in triplicate, report to all battle stations, We repeat, report to all battle stations, secure the cargo AND SOMEONE MAKE SURE THERES COFFEE!” Esai roared, jumping to a standing position quite quickly and with agility befitting a man falling upon money with slobbering of the mouth.

Reports flooded in from all stations, and for all intents are purposes they were alive, a collective phew came from the bridge crew as they went about figuring out what caused the deceleration and activation of the profiting/battle alarms in accordance with the rules of commerce. Large letters, in economic power saving Combi-standard font scrolled across the main screen, the voice patterns of the unknown alien fluctuated as translated text scrolled across right below.

“ This is Beatusian Space Train Petticoat. We have suffered a critical engine failure. Engine Number Two was evacuated, following Dioxin leak. Engines One, and Two, have come uncoupled, and are drifting. Request immediate assistance, situation Blue, situation Blue. “

Immediately, business instincts kicked in for the Lt major, as he immediately ordered his ship on a intercept course, while the entire Beatusian space train was almost three kilometres long, the Scrap Yard, was a mere two point three kilometres by itself, courtesy of being a super hauler, carrier, and ship of the line. His response, was dictated thus with no haste nor evidence of any kind of emotion or enthusiasm.

“Greetings there Alien starship of civllian, and economic intent, This is Lt Major Esai Moni, of the Combine Naval Syndicate Super Hauler “Ageing Pensioner” of the Scrap Yard class, we have come across your distress signal, and as per the rules of commerce we are obliged to lend our aide to your predicament, how may we be of service?

As he spoke, the vessel slowly bore down upon the civilian train, while the space train was longer, the Ageing Pensioner was a lot wider, and taller, respending a almost egg shaped vessel, the bright glow of its engines visible from the front at the high settings it was, slowly dimming as it drew closer, overshadowing the Space train.

The passengers on board the BST Petticoat, stared out their compartment windows, at the massive ship that had arrived, at least those with compartments on that side of the train. Those with compartments on the other side of the train, were obliviously enjoying their tea, which had just been served, and commenting on the quality, while reading the latest copy of the Northridge Tribune, with some surprise to an article about the health benefits of tea drinking in general.

In Engine Number Three, the response was received, and Chief Engineer Denis Greg, responded, "We thank you for your help, 'Aging Pensioner'. Engine Number Two has suffered a fuel line leak, we have estimated that 8,617.2 gallons of highly flammable dioxin fuel, has been vented, along with oxygen from the engines cabin. We could use assistance. Inspection of Engine Number Three's front coupling mechanism, shows severe damage to it, and it appears unrepairable, we are unsure of damage to Engine Number Two's rear coupling mechanism. There are also 10 crewmen trapped in Engine Number One, which is still coupled with Engine Number Two. They are unable to uncouple from Engine Number Two, and are drifting. If you have equipment to send persons into space, we would much appreciate, if you could do so, gain entry into and assist Engine Number One, in uncoupling from Engine Number Two."

He hoped these aliens knew something about how a train worked, or this would be a rather long delay. If it weren't for the act that Engine Numbers One, and Two's crew were in serious peril, the Chief Engine would have simply waited a week, for the BST Tuxedo, the next train bound for Colony Alpha Beta Prostrate. However, the men in Engine Number One wouldn't have survived a few days, never mind a week.

Bump for response.

CIC, TCAF Confederate

The bridge of the BC-304 was quiet, the odd crewemeber tapped a control pannel and got a satisifying 'beep' in return. The patrol so far had been un-eventful and boring. Frankly they couldn't wait to get back to the 6th Fleet. After travveling around in the company of Battlestars for so long you became used to their protective prowesses. Commander Anderson was tired of such monotonus patrols. He wanted action, not staring into space scaning for lost tool kits. He tapped the controls on his command chair to get him a line to the rest of the ship.
"Prepare for hyperspace jump, I repeat prepare for hyperspace jump!" As he finshed he flicked his tail into a more comfortable position.

They crew of the TCAF Confederate like the rest of the Empire of The Wolf was formed out of anthromorphic animals. Commander Anderson was an old and grizzeld raccon, whilst his XO was a young and energetic rabbit. It was at this point that sub-commander Tobin walked in and took his seat next to commander Anderson. "anything new old chap?" asked Tobin in his classical english accent.
"Absloutly not...." Anderson was about to reply when he was interuped by a middle aged vixen at the comms desk.
"In comming distress call, playing it through on speakers!"
“ This is Beatusian Space Train Petticoat. We have suffered a critical engine failure. Engine Number Two was evacuated, following Dioxin leak. Engines One, and Two, have come uncoupled, and are drifting. Request immediate assistance, situation Blue, situation Blue. “
Andersons face lit up at the sight of somthing other then routine patrolling, practically slamming the reply button on his chair arm he spoke, "This is the TCAF Confederate of the Empire Of The Wolf, we are in the vecinity and ready to asist"

Ooc: http://inlinethumb29.webshots.com/9948/2206833450102174200S425x425Q85.jpg The “Scrap Yard” Class Super Tanker/Battle Cruiser For your convenience

IC: 19/3/1002 - Aboard the long range “Aging Pensioner” Scrap yard class

A slight indentation creased Esai’s brow, as he thought about the situation, while the seconds ticked by hungrily, his crew grumbled about, “What’s taking him so long?” He imagined them thinking, as he stood in front of them, poised to take action.

Flicking over his cargo manifests, he found there was plenty room to assist these people with, tracing over angular flashing symbols with his clawed index finger ( which was developed over centuries of specialised form writing), a hint of a micro grin crossed his face for a mere one thousandth of a second, as he turned to face his officers.

” gentlemen,” he Began, before abruptly stopping. “and Fair ladies, We shall act in accordance with the rules of commerce, I am deeply sorry such a decision took a while to reach, may the Great Filer forgive me during Taxmas”, the crew nodding in signs of varying stages of forgiveness, pending of course, the proper application of less than standard , but widely common pay bonus’s.

The great maw, that was the front lower half of the Ageing Pensioner which was, when needed which was qiute often, both the focusing array for several banks of high grade and intensity plasma weapons, which were grading for Planet Cleaning.

But now, at this moment it was merely just extra strong cargo doors, the maw slid open and the vastness of its interior was less than visible, several green and arcing beams, more like hands reached forth to grab not only the astray engine’s, but the dangerously explosive, but not probably frozen fuel, slike a claw these bits were dragged slowly into the mount, small automated drones, in there hundreds barely the size of a car flew towards the Space Train, intent on guiding it carefully into the waiting hanger, repair crew and lounges of the Ageing Pensioner

“ Beatusian Space Train “Petticoat”, We will assist you in what ways are legally defined in the rules of commence, we are about to commence the re-positioning of your space train, and afore mentioned renegade engines in order to fully assess your damages, and repairs that need to be completed, while this proceedure is going on, we respectfully request you fill out several forms regarding liability in the form of any workplace accidents, or damages concering your space train while under/in or near our possession, failure to complete these waviers will result in only light repairs and subsequent ejection from the “Ageing Pensioner”, along with associated benefits and discounts similarly revoked. Esai Moni again, dictated, as crews stood ready in the bays in order to assist to varying degrees the plight of the space train.