A Transplanted Yankee With Southern pride...Here you will find "slices of life" seasoned with music, wit, and a dry sense of humor. (shaken not stirred)
Friday, June 13, 2008
FIRE!! (Space truckin' chapter three)
The fire claxon on Swift Arrow is the loudest, most distinctive alarm aboard. With good reason. A fire aboard the closed enviroment of a starship can be deadly, even catastrophic very quickly. It consumes precious oxygen, releases any number of toxic gasses that could overwhelm the crew, and the danger of damaging critical equipment being the three primary concerns. Not to mention tons of rocket fuel, and ordinance in the defensive magazines that would turn the ship to atoms if the fire got too close. Awake instantly I scanned the "threat board" on the bulkhead of my cabin. The fire was aft, down in engineering..wonderfull.I could already smell smoke. In just underalls, and shipshoes I scrambled down ladders, and passageways sealing emergency bulkheads behind me. When I reached engineering I found my "passenger" already fighting the fire with an estinguisher. "I was awake reading when the alarm sounded!" She yelled over her shoulder. "It's in the wiring!" And oh god! It was. The heat, and smoke in the small access corridor was incredible! I joined her with another exstinguisher, and we quickly gained the upper hand on the fire, reducing it to a hideous smelling hiss of steam, and smoke. "Come on!" I said dropping the heavy cylindar, and slapping her on the back. "Your hired if you want to sign on as crew." "Let's get out of here." I sealed engineering, and vented atmosphere. When I turned to look at her she was standing with the other extinguisher still dangling at her side un-noticed.Looking right through me. I could almost see wheels turning in her head. She was making a major decision. Before the smoke had cleared the ship I had a crew. We made our way back up to the flight deck discussing our situation, and our future. We had a lot to talk about, but first we needed to assess the damage to the ship. Depending on what had burned in that wiring harness, our future could be cut very short. As if on cue The lights went out, colors flared..sagged, a blur of futures played themselves in our minds. The stardrive had failed...
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