Chapter Text
Silence on a starship was unnatural. Any experienced sailor knew the instinctual, foreboding, cloud born of silence. Starships were never quiet. Every moment was accompanied by reassuring hums, beeps, and rumbles, evidence of the numerous systems fighting to hold back the myriad ways death sought to claim them in the cold of space.
Normally the subtle vibrations of warp were accompanied with the steady rumble of a starship’s mighty warp drive. Pinnacles of engineering, the immense reactors unleashed levels of energy capable of contorting spacetime itself. Yet as Mariner leaned back in the operations chair, she heard none of that. Instead the only sounds on the bridge were her friends’ idle chit chat and the hum of the air circulation. As much as she consciously knew there was nothing to worry about, the silence left Mariner on edge.
The five lieutenants had been assigned to man the Kumari, a Nova-class science vessel, as the Cerritos towed it back to Sol. The stricken ship had found itself too close to the subspace anomaly the crew was studying when it abruptly collapsed. Exotic particles and unknown forms of energy washed over the ship, wrecking multiple systems. Were it not for her crew’s quick thinking, the whole ship could have been lost.
Not that they saved much in the end. Mariner couldn’t believe Starfleet was bothering to salvage the piece of junk. The escape pods had all been launched and needed to be replaced, main engines were fried, communications and sensors barely functioned, grav plating didn’t work on three decks, and the warp drive itself was totaled. With all but a couple warp coils having melted beyond repair, attempting to go to warp would probably cause the nacelles to explode. The ship would have to be torn down to the studs before she’d ever fly under her own power again.
As ridiculous as the whole mission was, at least it gave her a few hours to hang with her friends with no other officers or annoying commanders around. All the five of them had to do was sit in the junker and make sure nothing unexpected happened, a job as easy as they came.
Nova class ships like the Kumari were among the smallest proper starships in the fleet. They were only eight decks with a crew complement less than eighty. Essentially a scaled down Intrepid class, the Nova was flat and angular. Its saucer was triangular and melded into the secondary hull. Contained in a cutout at the saucer’s nose was the ship’s most distinctive feature, an auxiliary deflector. This served as a redundant layer of protection for the comparatively fragile vessel.
Tendi sat at the science station while T’Lyn stood next to her. The pair had been filling the time by analyzing and theorizing about the anomaly data the previous crew recorded. In the back, halfway inside an access panel, Rutherford cheerfully worked to repair the control systems. For the entire trip, the navigational thrusters had been on the fritz with random power surges occasionally causing them to fire on their own. More of a nuisance, the Cerritos’s tractor beam was fully capable of counteracting any unexpected movements. Though the ship randomly and suddenly lurching was still annoying as shit.
Mariner was looking forward to getting back to the much more stable Cerritos.
Having been given command of the tow team, Boimler of course sat in the captain’s chair. While not as glamorous as captaining the Cerritos, or really any ship that wasn’t a junker getting towed back to the shop, Boimler was still taking his role seriously.
It was endearing, and good to see how he’d grown over the past year from a timid ensign desperate for reassurance and into a confident officer. Not that long ago she jokingly called herself his mentor. At the time, all she saw was another wannabe future senior officer who was probably going to get himself killed. Man, was she wrong. Funny, how much he taught her about being an officer without even realizing it.
The Kumari had been under tow for the better part of six hours. Meaning they were due to stop in an hour or so for a shift change. Then some other team of lucky officers would get to take over and chill out on the ship. Just as well. They’d already eaten through their snacks and played way too many rounds of every board game they brought.
The ship rumbled and shifted starboard, forcing everyone to latch onto something. All eyes turned to Rutherford. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he called out as he stood up to check the engineering console. “Port nav thruster that time. Maybe there’s a bad coupler?” He pondered. It was cute how genuinely excited Rutherford was to be stumped by the ongoing problem. The engineer would be devastated if they reached Sol before he could diagnose the root cause.
As Mariner turned back to her station, a notice appeared on the console. She tapped it to see they’d picked up a garbled signal. “Hey captain,” she said to Boimler in a somewhat mocking tone. As proud as she was with his well earned confidence, and how right it was to see him in a captain’s chair, it was still her sacred duty as his friend to keep him humble.
“Yes Mariner?”
“Long range communications are picking something up, but the system’s too fried to make it out.”
“Can you clear it up?”
Mariner rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She replied with heavy sarcasm. “I can see now why Ransom put you in charge.”
Before Boimler could fire back his own barb, her console flashed again. “Oh look,” said Mariner, “the real captain’s calling. What shall I ever do, oh brilliant captain?”
“Just put it on screen,” Boimler replied with exasperation.
“Aye aye, capin.”
The viewscreen came to life showing a closeup of Captain Freeman on the Cerritos bridge, causing Boimler to immediately jump to his feet. “Captain,” his voice cracked. Boimler paused to clear his throat before continuing. “I mean, Captain Freeman, how can we help you?”
“I’m sure you picked up that distress signal as well,” Captain Freeman was as direct and to the point as ever.
“Um, yes,” Boimler looked around in a panic, “we totally did.”
“Good,” said Freeman. “We’re going to drop you off in orbit of one of the planets in the system we’re passing through. Shouldn’t take us more than a couple to sort this out, then we’ll be back to pick you up.”
“Got it Captain,” Boimler said, trying so hard to sound confident and professional. Mariner couldn’t help but find it both endearing and amusing.
A few minutes later the Cerritos dropped out of warp and cut the smaller vessel loose above an uninhabited M-class planet. After a quick status check, the other vessel departed to assist a nearby freighter whose power had failed.
“And now we sit around doing nothing even longer,” Mariner bemoaned as she spun around in circles on her chair.
Tendi stood up and walked with T’Lyn towards the turbolift. “Well,” Tendi said enthusiastically, “you could join T’Lyn and I. We’re going to capture some ambient hydrogen samples to analyze. The Kumari has a brand new type 85 spectrometer!” Tendi made no effort to contain her excitement.
“The endeavor will likely yield no notable results,” said T’Lyn matter of factly. She then caught Tendi’s bright eyed expression and relented. “But it should prove to be… Fun, regardless.”
“Exactly!” Tendi beamed, hooking the vulcan’s arm in her own.
Mariner smiled and shook her head. “You two have fun. I’m gonna stay up here with our big boy captain over here.”
“Hey!” Boimler shot back, not quite sure why he was offended.
“Alright,” Tendi shrugged. “We’ll be on deck five if you need us.”
“Oh, hold up!” Rutherford called out as he got up and trotted after them. “There’s an auxiliary power regulator on deck six that I think might be the source of the power fluctuations.”
The trio departed, leaving Mariner alone with Boimler. Though it didn’t take long before the silence became too much for her. “Did you really sign up for one of Ransom’s ridiculous leadership seminars?” Mariner asked, finally breaking.
“They’re not stupid,” Boimler defended. “They’re valuable opportunities to learn important skills from an experienced officer.”
“You know Ranson’s seminars are basically just team building exercises mixed with real exercises, right? Totally unrelated, how’s your deadlift these days?”
“Ransom’s seminars are informative,” Boimler replied, brushing off her negative statement. “He had a great impromptu one on commanding the chair just before the race…” He froze and his eyes went wide.
“You mean the race right after my mom tried to kick me out of Starfleet?” She replied casually.
“Sorry, I uh, shouldn’t have brought it up,” Boimler stammered out and apology.
“Pfff,” Mariner waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. My mom’s the one who weaponized the crew to get back at me because she thought I betrayed her. I’m not gonna fault any of you for trusting your captain.”
“Is that why you’re still not talking to Jennifer?”
“What are you talking about?” Her voice reached an unnaturally high pitch. “I’m not, not talking to Jennifer. We just haven’t run into each other much since I got back. Besides, what do you care? There are plenty of people on the ship I don’t talk to all that much.”
“It’s just that you just seemed happy when you two were together, and you immediately forgave everyone on the ship but her, that’s all.”
Mariner shook her head and smiled. “Seriously Boims, I’m fine. Jennifer was just a meaningless fling. You don’t need to worry about me.”
As Boimler opened his mouth to respond, the ship violently thrust backwards, sending Mariner into her console and launching Boimler out of the captain’s chair and into the floor. “Ow,” Boimler moaned.
Mariner winced as she rubbed the sore spot on her chest where she impacted the console. “These malfunctions fucking suuuuck.”
“I'm sure Rutherford will get them sorted out.” Boimler maintained an upbeat tone as he stood up.
“Whatever man.” Mariner turned back to the operations console to figure out what the hell was going on. “Huh,” her brow furrowed. “The forward thrusters are firing.” She tapped the panel, only to be met with an error. “I can't turn them off.” A concerning prospect given they were in orbit.
Boimler hopped in the navigation seat. “Our relative velocity is decreasing.” His calm exterior started to crack. Boimler tapped his combadge. “Rutherford, forward thrusters have activated on their own and we can't shut them down.”
A chirp signified Rutherford’s reply. “I see that. Give me a sec.”
“Try rotating the ship,” Mariner said to Boimler. “We can balance the deceleration by turning around and using the thrusters to accelerate.”
“Good idea.” Boimler tapped commands on the console. But the ship remained steady. “Controls aren’t responding.”
Boimler and Mariner exchanged worried glances. The projected orbit on the viewscreen plummeted. If they got too low without impulse engines, the atmosphere would drag them to the planet below.
The thrusters continued to fire, sending their course lower and lower. Mariner clutched the console until her knuckles turned white. With each passing second their orbit’s perigee ticked lower and lower.
“Rutherford!” Mariner yelled out.
“I’m trying.”
The planet filled their viewscreen. Immense white clouds hung above great plains and oceans. Once far below, those clouds were rapidly approaching.
As abruptly as it started, the rumbling stopped. The thrusters cut out and their orbit stabilized.
“Fuck, man.” Mariner let out a long sigh of relief and slumped back in her chair.
A pale looking Boimler tapped his combadge. “Nice job Rutherford.”
“Thanks,” came the cheerful reply. “I couldn’t regain control so I just cut off power to the thrusters.”
“Well it worked. Is everyone alright?”
Another chirp, then Tendi’s voice came over the communicator. “T’Lyn and I are ok.”
“Damn,” said Mariner, “when we get back, we are never doing tow duty again.”
Boimler smiled and shook his head. “Come on Mariner, I thought you liked exciting missions.”
“Celebrations may be premature,” T’Lyn’s analytical voice came over the air. “You may wish to compare our orbit’s new perigee altitude with the measured atmospheric density levels.”
Mariner scrambled to pull up an overlay of the planet’s atmosphere. Her heart stopped. On the viewscreen, the dotted line showing their predicted course dipped below the pale circle representing the planet’s atmosphere. Blood drained from her face. “Rutherford! Please tell me you have thruster control back.”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“We don’t have a few minutes!”
The ship started rumbling as the atmosphere grew thicker. While more streamlined than the California class, the Nova class still lacked the aerodynamics of aircraft. Without any form of active control, the Kumari began to tumble end over end. The rapidly moving ship slammed into air molecules. Friction converted motion into heat, heat which rose in intensity until red and gold plasma enveloped the hull.
Inertial dampeners and artificial gravity could only do so much. Mariner and Boimler had to clamp down on their consoles to stop from being thrown about the bridge. Over and over they tumbled, the view screen flashing between white clouds and black space, all tinged with the plasma’s glow.
Hull temperature alarms blared across the bridge. Mariner strained against the g-forces to reach the controls. The outside temperature continued to climb, threatening hull integrity. With a final push, her hand slammed onto the screen, allowing her to punch in the command sequence. In the one piece of good luck she had all day, the shields were still under her command. When she hit the last button, a bubble of protective energy enveloped the small ship, protecting them from the heat.
“Try it now!”
Boimler slapped the navigation console, triggering an automatic sequence. Control thrusters across the Kumari’s hull fired. With each revolution the somersaulting slowed. When the chaotic movements finally came to an end, the Kumari settled into a belly-first fall.
Mariner and Boimler stared at each other for a moment, catching their breath. The ship was still plummeting helplessly towards the planet below. The navigational thrusters were nowhere near powerful enough to counteract the speed they’d acquired from the planet’s gravity. But they were no longer going to pass out from g-forces, which was a positive. At least Mariner and her friends would be conscious when they hit the ground.
The altitude on the viewscreen was counting down fast. Thankfully atmospheres are big. At the current rate they probably had the better part of half an hour before they impacted the surface. Plenty of time to contemplate their demise.
Mariner activated the distress signal and launched an emergency beacon, for what little good they would do. Even if someone picked up their transmission, assuming their transmitter still worked after being flame broiled by plasma, there was no way anyone could reach them in time.
“Sooo,” said Mariner, her eyes locked onto the rapidly decreasing altitude reading. “Anyone got any ideas?”
Boimler was the first to respond. “Rutherford, what are the chances you can repair the impulse engines or the landing thrusters in the next,” he paused, doing math in his head, “twenty-five minutes?”
“Uh…” Rutherford’s uncomfortable tone spoke volumes.
“What do we have that’s still working?” Asked Tendi.
Mariner scrolled through the statuses. “Well let’s see. Shields, life support, primary and auxiliary deflectors, the aft torpedo launcher, two phaser arrays, oh, and the landing struts. Shall I go ahead and lower those for us?” Mariner said with heavy sarcasm.
Instead of firing back, Boimler was silent. Something was running through his mind. He then shot to his feet. “How much energy do you think we can put through the deflectors?”
“A lot. Why?”
Boimler’s body language shifted. Any signs of worry vanished, replaced with outward confidence that would’ve been unthinkable a year ago. “Tendi, T’Lyn, get down to deck six. I need you two to find a way to modify the deflector controls. Rutherford, divert as much power as you can to the deflectors. We’re going to use them as deceleration thrusters.”
“Got it.”
“Okie dokie.”
“Mariner will pilot the ship, so wait for her signal. If we can slow down enough, Mariner will be able to use the navigational thrusters to set us down.” Boimler marched towards the turbolift at the back of the bridge. “I’m going down to deck three to modify the auxiliary deflector in the same way.” He paused outside the doors and spoke just to her. “You got this.” Boimler wasn’t giving her some confidence boosting reassurance. He was simply stating a fact. With that, Boimler stepped into the Turbolift, leaving her alone on the bridge.
Mariner hopped over to the navigation station. All she could do was wait for her friends to finish their tasks as she watched the altitude value plummet, her stomach sinking right along with it.
Over the coms she listened as T’Lyn explained to Boimler the modification she worked out to make the deflectors emit energy blasts capable of producing thrust.
The ship continued to fall.
Mariner gripped the console. Unlike the ship, her anxiety continued to climb as the minutes passed.
The ship continued to fall.
T’Lyn relayed to her the expected thrust of their makeshift engines. Mariner programmed the values into the course plotter.
The ship continued to fall.
Rutherford tried some kind of bypass to get more power to the deflectors.
The ship continued to fall.
“Good to go Mariner.” Boimler finally announced.
“Same, here,” said Tendi.
Mariner took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She had this. “Ok everyone, on my mark.” She then pushed the Kumari’s nose down forty-five degrees. Aerodynamics turned some of their downward movement into forward momentum.
The ship continued to fall.
This was it. “Now!” Mariner yelled, slamming her fist on the console.
Twin golden beams erupted from the deflectors. Deceleration slammed Mariner into the nav console. The thrust was off center and unfocused. It took all of Mariner’s experience and skill to stop the ship from tumbling again.
The ship continued to fall. But with each passing second their velocity fell too. Mariner hollered with joy. Her friends were bad asses.
Twelve thousand meters.
The screen turned white and gold as they dove into a cloud.
Ten thousand meters.
Violent winds and updrafts slammed the Kumari, nearly causing Mariner to lose control all together. But she fought with the ship to keep it on course. Every moment their projected impact velocity dropped.
Seven thousand meters.
Lightning flashed, exploding against the shields. Her eyes stayed glued to course readout and the decreasing impact velocity. She pleaded with the numbers to drop faster.
Five thousand meters.
They were slowing down, but it wasn’t enough. The projected course had them going far too fast.
Three thousand meters.
Landing was out of the question. They were going to crash. With moments to go, in one last desperate move to protect her friends, Mariner transferred every bit of power she could to the inertial dampeners.
Two thousand meters.
They plunged beneath the thunderclouds. The sheets of rain and blinding glow of the makeshift thrusters rendered the viewscreen opaque. Mariner could only hope the ground was as flat as the damaged sensors suggested.
Mariner took one last deep breath before the inevitable. “All hands, brace for impact!”