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RP: YSS Kaiyō Post-Mission Nine: Anesthesia

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Pancakei

The Breakfast Baron
ai.imgur.com_VhZpaXa.png
???


Anastasia Barlow laid back in the Onsen aboard the YSS Kaiyo II, floating by her lonesome in the middle of the heated bath with her cobalt wings spread out below the water. Her eyes were closed and her dark hair laid splayed across the surface of the water around her like a halo, reacting gently with every little movement in the pool. Her ears resting below the water's surface, nothing but muffled ambiance could make it to them. She felt relaxed, almost nonexistent suspended in the water.

It felt like she had been there for an eternity, asleep and motionless. As time passed, however, the water grew colder. The warm pool had plunged to a frosty temperature, and the smooth current had slowed to an unresponsive standstill as Anastasia's wrist jittered for a moment. The tranquil ambiance had been drowned out by muffled buzzing, accompanied by an ever-encroaching series of beeps. Alarms. The disjointed noise filled the Elysian's ears, causing her head to twist slightly as her eyes tried their hardest to stay shut.


It was time to wake up.


Anastasia groaned, her body feeling entirely disconnected as her mind came, back to reality. Her mind was taking too long to comprehends what she was seeing, distorted flashes of red and black starting to form fuzzy images. The sound of muffled, watery alarms probes her eardrums as the technician came to her senses. In front of her eyes laid her own Mindy HUD, pulsating a red. Error signs stacked on top of each other, cluttering the bulk of her vision. The dazed technician tried to assess the messages, their red warnings swaying back and forth as a pressing headache caught her attention. Everything was sore, and everything burned.

"Hud... minimize." The technician grunted into her helmet, trying to will her limbs to move. They felt weightless in response, floating around as she tried to orient herself. In a cascade, all the errors and alarms slid off to the edges of her vision, allowing Anastasia to see the horror that laid out around her. Metal beams. twisted and curled, massive chunks of a broken structure, endless scrap and plastic shards all laid dormant about her, their silhouettes highlighted against the stars. Her breathing painfully sharpened as she realized where she was. She was surrounded by the ruins of a space station.

The technician jolted to attention, trying to pull their limbs back towards her. A sharp pain lit in her chest as if she was being stabbed in the torso. Anastasia groaned in pain, exhaling as her vision fell to her right arm. The exterior of her armor was scorched, broken up by streaks of a blue and silver visible from where debris has peppered the outside of the Mindy. Her armor had quite clearly been compromised while she was out, patches of emergency sealant covering large gashes in the torso. Her right arm was caught at the forearm underneath the mangled remains of a railing of sorts. Grunting through the pain, she reached over with her left arm, prying the railing off her arm as she wriggled it out of its prison.

Free from the mangled railing, Anastasia coughed, still breathing fast. She tried to open a comm with the other members of her team, anyone. "Hello?"

"Hello??... Eden, Meissa, Seinosuke... are you there?"

There was no response, but the quiet, muffled crackling of dead air. Anastasia swallowed her own words as a dreaded beeping noise catching her attention. In the lower right-hand corner of her HUD sat a flashing battery meter, which was being hugged by a sad looking chibi of Teien Eden, their team leader's personal touch. The text to the side of the nearly empty meter read loud and clear.

//ERROR: CRITICAL GENERATOR FAILURE
Battery: 9%


Anastasia's breathing started to speed up again, ignoring her inner voice telling her to calm down. The Elysian pushed off the large piece of the station, using a tiny bit of boost to send herself upwards towards the top of the debris. Once she cleared the top of the chunk, the technician grabbed the twisted metal beam that ran beside it. She peered out into the open space around her, moving from chunk to chunk to get a better view. The grave reality of the situation started to settle in as she scanned the horizon around the clutter of the wreck.

There were no ships, there was no Kaiyo, there was no crew, and there was no movement. She was alone. Anastasia's heart and stomach sank to her feet as her armored wings draped below her. shoulders. No words could escape her lips as they gaped open, trembling. She was abandoned. Her memory on what got her here was fuzzy at best, the last thing she remembered properly was Eden leaving the SOFT team to go meet up with the rest of the crew... or, something like that...

The technician's mind raced, unable to slow down. The reactor. The reactor exploded, was she caught in it? She had to have been. Anastasia was braced to move, but instead, let go of the twisted beam she held on to. She floated back for a moment, thinking through her paces. Did they leave her here? A deep fear crawled up her spine, pushing every single hair on her neck out.

Abruptly, Anastasia launched upwards, rising closer and closer towards the largest remnant of the station. Using quick jets of hot blue plasma, she wove in between the mangled maze of beams, corridors, and exterior plates until she emerged from the clutter above the top of the ruined bulbous station. The Elysian slowed to a stop, looking all around the surrounding space. Frustratingly, there was nothing, not a heat signature nor any visible trail. The only signature that they had been there was the immense wreckage and a faint aether signature that had been washed over by the immense amount of radiation in the blast area. She sighed painfully, bringing up the time on her HUD.

20日 8月 YE 39
1932 Hours


She had been out for several hours, close to a day. They must have thought she was dead.


8%

Anastasia forced herself to calm, even though between the aches in her bones and the urge to vomit, she wanted to move. She didn't have the battery power to give chase. Her communications were fried and it seems like her aether generator had failed as well. She needed good news.

"The good news is, you're alive. You just survived a catastrophic aether collapse. Who gets to say that?"

Anastasia sat there for a few minutes, setting her armor to dormant mode while she collected her thoughts and her breath. The Elysian struggled to push feat to the back of her mind, choosing not to think about the fate of spending her last living hours helplessly adrift in a vacuum. At this rate, catching up to a Fuji class would take weeks. She can't make it on her own, even with a working generator. She needed a ship, with supplies. The weary technician sighed out with the feeling of frustration, before whipping herself around to fly back down towards the station. It was a big station, there had to be something in there that can move.


Station
Fighter Bay 1
8%


Anastasia descended using her CFS, the least consuming option left at her disposal. The armored Elysian grabbed onto one of the exposed metal rafters at the top of the bay, gently using it to swing herself on a path into the ravaged bay. Over half of the bay had been torn apart, exposing its contents directly into space, and what was left wasn’t exactly in one piece. Evidence of firefights could be seen across the walls, and twisted pieces of once-threatening L’Kor fighters were strewn about the area like a junkyard.

The technician sighed, threading between the cloud of scrap. The away team didn’t leave her with much more than a mess. She couldn’t blame them, either. It was their duty to leave the enemy with nothing. Anastasia floated to the other end of the bay, where a battery-powered emergency light was pulsing a cautionary red, even through the immense damage to the surrounding structure. She set the slender feet of her armor on the floor for a moment, as if pretending there were gravity to keep her on the ground. With a heave, she swung herself around the open doorway to the hallways connecting the bays, floating through them much like a maintenance conduit.

It was apparent the station was abandoned sometime before the blast, anyone with a sense of preservation leaving behind the cold corpses of their comrades and workers. The unarmored ones were lucky enough to be vaporized on the spot. Anastasia floated past the remains of a maintenance crew, shuddering. She didn’t want her fate to be the same.

Bay 2
7%


It didn’t take too long for Anastasia to find the next main bay, prying its scorched entrance open with nothing more than a power-assisted heave. The bay appeared to be in better shape than its twin, but at a glance showed no more promise than the other. Thinking on her feet with a decreasing power supply, Anastasia used the door frame to push herself off into the bay. Spinning gently, she inspected the surrounding wreckage for anything solid, a deathly grimace split across her face. One thing seemed to run parallel in this expedition, there never seemed to be enough materials. The Elysian caught herself on the other side of the bay, where the airlock been blasted out from sheer pressure.

Using her inertia to arc about to the floor, she slowed to a stop. Nothing in here was solid, and she didn’t have the time or the resources to build something out of nothing. She was an engineer, but not a goddess. Starting to well up with frustration, Anastasia boiled over.

GOD DAMN IT!” she screeched, lashing out at the wall with an armored first. A deep dent caved in below the punch, much to the surprise of the engineer. Pushed back by recoil, Anastasia took a few deep breaths to try and quell her rage. It was not apparent at first, but the implications of such a dent sank into her brain and shot a clear message past her emotions.

The floor was hollow.

Anastasia exhaled, almost with a slight chortle. She had an idea. “Maybe…” The technician looked up across the floor of the bay, looking for anything unusual. Towards one corner of the bay, she spotted something. A bent floor panel, with rods sticking out of the side, like a vault door. A thin stripe of yellow could be seen between the disfigured rod and the floor, propping up the piece slightly.

The technician grinned as she fired up her CFS, ignoring the debris that brushed her shoulders as she jetted towards the panel. Kicking her legs out, she slowed to a stop in front of the panel, holding her breath with a sense of hope. Praying that her statement before last wasn’t heard, Anastasia wrapped her metal-encased fingers underneath the silver lip of the panel. She pulled with all her might, mustering up every bit of energy she had. Pain flared in her torso, but she gritted her teeth and held through. Firing up the boosters on her shoulders, the Elysian let out a long groan as the panel started to shift.

In a flash, the panel burst through its lock and thrust upwards, dragging the lightweight Elysian along with it. Cartwheeling towards the ceiling unexpectedly, Anastasia put her CFS into full force to stabilize herself. Opening her eyes, she drifted back down to the now open panel, a sub-deck storage unit. Within seconds, Anastasia had broken into tears.

Resting inside the unit was a small L’Kor fighter, which had survived the blast strapped down within its unit, waiting to be deployed. The fighter was beautiful, just a few scratches and dents, the worst damage being it was missing a wingtip and a stabilizer. Anastasia let go of the unit, crying tears of joy, as she almost forgot she was still on a time crunch. She raised her arms upwards, letting out a cry and shaking her fists. Her words were hard to understand, but it was some kind of a joyous blessing in Seraphim.

5%

Anastasia calmed, her cheeks soaking up the tears as she refocused on the task at hand. This wasn’t over: She had found a mean of escape, but there was much work to do. Thinking strategically, she floated back out into the bay in search of parts. A solid rudder, a few plates, and most importantly, cockpits. As she found parts that would suffice, she sent them floating gently back towards the craft. She broke open the seal of any solid cockpits, searching their interiors for one thing any pilot should have- an emergency kit. Not all of them had them intact, but out of the few she did find, she harvested a bounty of first-aid packages and ration packs.

Floating back to the small shuttle, Anastasia got to work. Her butt pack was scorched but still held its contents. Several tools, and a plasma torch, given to her at the start of the mission by Seinosuke. Anastasia held up the torch, giving it a caution flick. A small blue stream of heated plasma flickered to life between her helmet’s optical sensors, painting the faceplate in a bright blue glow. Bless his soul. Now was the time to… well, she couldn’t remember the quote. Something along the lines of applied science and toilets.

Anastasia worked steady, welding the replacement rudder to the base of the old one, using the torch to clean up the remains. She circled the ship, repairing any holes or large dents using what clean pieces she could find. It wasn’t a clean job, but it was one that mattered. After a solid hour of work, the technician slid away from their repaired chariot. Its internal systems were offline, but intact. It was missing something, though....

Holding up the plasma torch, Anastasia set the nozzle on the low setting gently against the metal. The plates surface turning black but not digging deep, she moved her arm in a slow circle, rotating her wrist back and forth to make new lines as she went. In the end, the L’Kor Navy crest on the right wing was melted off. Replaced with a bold, charred black Hinomaru. This was now a... unofficial Star Army Vessel.

Anastasia rounded the ship, cutting the vessel free from its blaze orange safety straps, before circling back to the front. She opened the sealed cockpit, floating gently into the pilot seat below. It was a little tight with the armor on, but there was plenty of space behind her for her wings. Bringing along her collection of emergency kits from other fighters, she leaned back and sealed the cockpit manually. There was just one last thing: power. Anastasia had opened the side of the main control panel, a set of wires linked to the ship's internal generator exposed. The held up the two wires, shivering slightly. This was her last hope. Deploying an insulated wire from her suit’s backpack, she connected the two, linking the last wire to the ship as a ground.

She took a deep breath. Before speaking into her helmet. “Transfer battery power to external cable A.” A warning flashed on the HUD, reminding her once again how stupid of an idea this was. She swallowed her fear, dismissing the warning. With a jolt, energy was drained from her internal battery pack to jumpstart the ship’s generator. The control panel sprang to life momentarily, before fading to black again. Anastasia’s gut wrenched at the sight.

2%

“No…” she muttered, panic trying to crawl up her back. Maybe it wasn’t enough. With another command, the suit jolted again. The ship’s display gasped for life in a flash of light, before dying yet again.

1%

Anastasia frantically fiddled with the wiring, making sure everything was connected properly. She was reduced to a panic, trying to diagnose the issue. There was no time. There was no other option, it was either now or never. With one last shaky command, there was a jolt from the suit. The display flickered to life, wanting to fade again. Anastasia slammed her fist against the controls, almost screeching “LIVE, DAMN IT!”

With the proper percussive maintenance, the ship sputtered to life. One by one, its display cane back to life in full power. Anastasia’s HUD disappeared with a static flash as her powered armor was rendered nothing more but a metal spacesuit.The loud humming of the aether generator filled the cabin as the ship initialized its systems, a wonderfully familiar noise. The inert armor fell heavy on Anastasia’s limbs, but she did not care. She breathed in and out, in and out, exhaling pure euphoria. The ship was online, the generator was online. She took deep breaths from her oxygen reserve as the ship's own filters activated, filling the cockpit with fresh air.

Anastasia threw herself back, prying off her Mindy helmet as she started to laugh off the intense adrenaline from the startup failure. Her laughter was mixed with tears as her black hair fell out of the helmet. The ship was alive, she was alive. Volumetric displays flickered around her, showing diagnostics of the ship and the power production of the generator. Sure, they were in K’Lor by default, but it was a sight to behold. Anastasia lifted her now weighted arm, interacting with the panels and changing the language settings with the knowledge she picked up from their resident Prisoner of War aboard the starship. Trade was the closest they had adapted. The ship, brand new and none the wiser, accepted her as the pilot. Maybe the wings helped. She brought up the ship’s navigation, plotting a course, out of the wreckage she had woken up in only hours prior.

“Eden,” she said, nearly coughing on her own words, “I’m on my way.” With that, she confirmed the launch. The ship’s engines flared, pushing the small craft through the debris field with care, small bits of fighter and station bumping off the outside of the ship as it weaved out of the open bay. One clear of the debris field, the fighter oriented to the northeast direction of the quadrant, following the fading trail left behind by a Fuji-Class Gunship. The engines now warmed up, the craft lunged forwards at Anastasia’s command, rocketing away from the ruined station on its maiden voyage.

Act II

Kuvexian Space
20日 8月 YE 39
2340 Hours


Anastasia, contempt with the ship's autopilot, slid the pilot chair back a few inches.away from all the star maps and vector projections. “Alright..” She said, with a questioning tone. She raised an arm, releasing the restraint holding her into the seat in the absence of gravity. It was a little cramped in the fighter's cockpit, but she could make it work. Without power, she had to resort to using the Mindy armor’s manual release controls, which were, of course, a closely guarded secret. The armor’s chest popped open down to the pelvis, and the Elysian started to shimmy their way out. It was definitely a tight squeeze, but Anastasia managed to dismount the suit of armor, pushing it behind her seat and into the storage area behind the cockpit.

With the cabin less cluttered, Anastasia pulled herself down into the seat again. She was still dressed in a crimson red Type 35 uniform, which had since become dampened with sweat and missing its belt and shoes. She sighed, much more comfortable out of the armor. “Thaaat’s better...” The technician relaxed for a moment, or at least made an honest attempt to. Her pale skin was burnt, still sore to the touch and red as a can be. Her suit’s life support had managed to keep her from becoming ashes in the wind, she must have been in the outer areas of the explosion. She cocked her head to the side as something caught her eye. A camera.

Log 1
20日 8月 YE 39
2350 Hours


Anastasia moved away from the console, looking at herself on the camera mounted slightly above her head, like a mirror. She had started this for a purely logistical reason, but felt like it might bring some comfort as her eyes cut away for a moment to look at the stars. She cleared her throat. Before beginning to speak. “Day… zero. This is Anastasia Barlow… Joto Hei Technician aboard the YSS Kaiyo II. Or at least, that’s where I’m supposed to be.”

She took a breath, trying to collect this story in the best presentable fashion. Her head turned back to the camera, as she brushed her cheek with a hand to calm the nerves.“Roughly… sixteen hours ago, out forces led a two-pronged assault on a Kuvexian-allied space station, with the intent to disable the station. My orders were to infiltrate the station with a small group, and set their aether reactors to detonate on our exit.”

“From what I can gather, I succeeded but did not make it out of the station before detonation. Four hours ago, I woke up in the lower remnants of the station, with no sight or real trace of my team. My Mindy was heavily damaged in the blast, but was enough to keep me alive. Currently, its state is unknown… possible inoperable.” She cut back to the chase, choosing to drop her lamented ramble. “After scavenging what was left of the station, I found no signs of remaining survivors. However, I found a L’Kor manufactured fighter in good enough shape to make it out of the station, with some repairs.”

The Elysian looked down, placing her hands on top of her thighs. “Currently, I am following the only trace of the YSS Kaiyo II I could find, using the last known vector we were traveling towards. I’m not sure where they are for certain, or if they turned back, but all I can hope for is that I can find them. The external communications of the fighter seem to be damaged, but that is something I need to look into, after I get some rest. It’s… very late, and I’ve had an unbelievably stressful day.”

Anastasia leaned forwards, resting her wrist on the edge of the console. “For now this is Anastasia Barlow, signing off.” And with that, she stopped the recording. The elysian leaned back in their seat, exhaling. She was exhausted. She stretched her wings for a moment, before closing her eyes and letting her mind drift.


Log 2
21日 8月


Anastasia started recording again about an hour after waking up from her slumber. She had shed the jacket of her uniform and set it on the back of the pilot seat, wearing a light gray tank top beneath it, decorated with stains of blood. Her skin was burnt, still quite red, giving her an uncanny look about her. “Day one… I guess I should get used to no real, schedule or anything...” She sat back, running her fingers across the control console. “I woke up only a while ago, and… once I could breathe comfortably, I decided to start with inventory.”

She slowly leaned forward in her seat, looking down at her feet. “I didn’t have a full emergency kit left on my Mindy. Between what's left of that, and the resources I pulled from the wreckage, minus the bit I ate for breakfast, I should have… twelve days of rations.” Anastasia raised her hands as if trying to conjure something while explaining. “Now, that includes food and water. I can stretch that to twenty or more days if I eat only half the pack a day. Fortunately, I’ve been through stretches without food before, so this shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

Ana looked up, sighing. “But, that’s the least of my concern right now. I can see a lot of complications that could come up being on this ship out here. Apparently, the L’Kor do not believe much in painkillers or stimulants, so all I have for emergencies are these.” The technician held up two small hypospray injectors. “And to be honest, my chest hurts like absolute hell.” She paused for a moment, sitting back in her seat and taking a few breaths. “I don’t know what happened, but I think I fractured ribs. On another note... I can’t do much outside the ship until I can find a way to get my Mindy running again. It’s my goal for the next day, baby steps.

Anastasia leaned forwards, grunting hoarsely as she turned off the recording. She took another gaze at the faraway stars surrounding her, before looking back at the space behind her seat. Her Mindy armor laid there scorched and lifeless, like a ragdoll. The armor was totaled, sure, but not useless. She floated about in the cabin, grabbing the armor by its blackened shoulder plates and spinning it about face. The backpack areas of her armor took hits, bits of shrapnel still poking out of it. She didn’t have any of her tools with her, so she would have to make due with what was in the cabin. It was going to be a long day.


Log 3

Anastasia started recording, but this time the lighting was much darker, her features visible from the ambient light entering the cabin from the outside as well as the dull green light provided by the console. “Update from today. I may, may, have found a solution to my power problem.” Anastasia manipulated the overhead camera to point down at the dash where a panel laid open, long wires stretched out of the panel, which connected back to her suit. “I had to make a tough decision, but I decided that interior lighting in the cabin was not a priority. My armor is accepting the charge, but I’m cutting back on systems to make sure nothing terrible happens.”

The technician sighed, one hand laid on their ribcage. “In the meantime, I’m going to start using audio logs to save power and memory in here, not much use since it’s going to be dark in here from now on… I hope it will be worth it.”

Log 4

Anastasia sounded like she was chewing on something, with just a little bit of strain. “So… I've been keeping myself occupied thinking about things that do not involve dying in space, the crew, or my aching bones. And, I've come to the conclusion that I believe this could be classified as a Star Army Vessel. I have a bridge, a power armor bay, engineering, and cabins. Granted, they're all mashed together in one relatively small space… but it's a ship. I've even got a flag.”

Anastasia took a moment to munch on the small portion of rations she had given herself for the meal. “But now the question stands: what should I name it?” The technician looked over at the Hinomaru burnt into the wing of the ship, before leaning back. “The YSS Sparrow- ugliest ship to sail the galaxy.” Anastasia laughed just a little bit, finding the joke something to keep her spirits up as long as possible. “Well, chances are it won't make it through the paperwork phase.*

Log 5

Anastasia took a deep breath, sounding just a little bit excited. “Well, it's day three… Or five. I lost count and honestly, the time settings on the console haven't been set, so that's a shot in the dark. I've been trying to count using rations.” The technician snapped out of her tangent, remembering why she started the log in the first place. “I am happy to say that my Mindy battery is charging. My helmet has a full charge, but it would seem like the suit’s internal generator is forever dead. It's having troubles holding a charge above 15%, but it's a start.”

The technician leaned back in her seat, patting her thin belly. Her skin had started to heal just slightly, looking less like a lobster than before. “My communications system were fried along with many others, I'm guessing from the immense aether overload. However, I have good news. The data from my datapad was synced before the mission, so I've got my personal files on my helmet.” Anastasia grunted, looking up at the console as her hands gripped the plastic coverings or her seat arms.

“Which is good for many things. For one, I have the last known vector of the Kaiyō’s engines. This means I'm going in the right direction from the looks of it. It also means I have some books, which I'm thankful for because L'Kor in-flight entertainment is awful. Just… ink blots. Floating ink blots.” Anastasia laughed a little bit. “ Anyways, the bad news. The helmet isn’t interfacing properly with the console, so that is going to take some work. I can’t access everything from my helmet, it’s difficult to command, with the amount of damage it’s taken.” She sighed, wriggling her dry wings. She mumbled to herself. “I am, honestly just looking forward to a hemosynth bath…”

Log 6

Anastasia took a deep breath. She didn’t sound too pleased. “So, I figure I’ve beaten around the bush long enough… It’s time to address a few concerns I’ve been having about this entire situation.” She paused, leaning back in her seat. “It’s been a few days since I woke up. While these fighters are designed for wings in mind, which I’m thankful for, they are obviously not designed to be lived out of. I’m already having issues with my health, what with burns and fractures, but sitting here isn’t exactly good for me either. This is also the longest consecutive time I’ve been in zero gravity, too…”

Anastasia let her thoughts cycle about her cranium for a moment, before cutting to the chase. “But what has really caught my attention today is the last known vector sent by the Kaiyo II. They were heading East, towards the Kikyo sector. I would assume that the ship is heading home for redocking. If that is true, then it may either be easier for me to be picked up…” The Elysian paused, “What concerns me though, is that it would require me to head back through L’Kor territory. I imagine whatever Joy they’d have in recovering a fighter would become rage if they found a Yamataian soldier piloting it.”

Anastasia trailed off, looking out the cockpit window at the many stars and distant systems that could wait beyond. “But… that’s really just the tip of the iceberg. “I’m not sure how long this fighter will last on its own. I’ve rigged as much as I can to get things to work, it’s left me uncertain.” She paused yet again, trying to hold back the dark thoughts of her oxygen supply running out, or her generator popping, or the engines dying out on her. “I’m still trying to find a way to stabilize my Mindy’s battery, once I do, I can feel confident about taking a spacewalk. Until then, Barlow out.”

Anastasia cut off the recording, leaning back in the pilot's seat. It was all very much the same in the cabin. Same as it was yesterday, same as it was three days ago. She was going to go mad in here.


Log 7

Anastasia cleared her throat. “Well, with a little bit of work, I managed to get my helmet’s data drive to interface with the YSS Sparrow.” The name was sticking. “All of my data is here on full display now, it’s just been taking forever to compile.” The technician gave a small sigh of relief. “I am very happy, because now that all of it is on the computer, I can reattach my helmet to my armor.”

She took a deep breath. “I am planning on attempting a spacewalk. I need to see if I can patch the fi- Sparrow's communicator array.” Anastasia set her palms on her lap. Looking behind the seat at her armor. “The battery is still unstable, but it holds its charge long enough for me to do what I have to. It’s going to be risky, but I’d like to be able to send an SOS message, at least.” Anastasia choked up a little bit, taking into account all that could go wrong with this plan. The reward was worth the risk, however. “If I can, I should be able to attract a rescue team once I’m within patrolled space. So long as it doesn’t attract the wrong attention..”

Thirty Minutes Later

Anastasia took a deep breath, now clad in her full Mindy suit. It was a shell of it’s former self, but the seal was still strong enough to support her in space. Anastasia took care in venting all of the oxygen from the cabin, making sure not to waste an ounce of her supply. Once it was all said and done, she released the seal around the windshield, exposing the cabin to the black void of space. The technician pushed off of her seat, slowly floating out to orbit the craft.

She had a few tools with her, what she had left on her and what she could make use of in the cabin. Relying not on her CFS but rather the force of her own muscle, she pulled the barely powered armor across the hull of the craft. The last thing she needed was to shred her own lifeboat at sea. Anastasia reached the rear of the craft, where the engines sat quietly dormant. She exhaled, hearing her own voice talk back to her from the broken communicator link. “According to the diagrams inside, the communications sensor should be…”

The Technician grunted, pulling up a dented panel from the hull. “Here.” Inside laid a small black box, another cracked box full of sensors, half of a plastic-coated antenna, and loose wire. The technician took a moment to assess what she had to work with, and determined quickly that a full repair wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t want to sacrifice more electronics. Instead, she sat the tools under the lip of the cabinet, and got to work. She used what wires were there in an attempt to lengthen the broken antenna, wrapping coil after coil. It took almost an hour to have everything back in place before Anastasia received more battery warnings, to the dismay of her ears.

3%

It was time to wrap it up before she was stranded outside the fighter. The technician admired their handiwork, before closing the compartment with a light slam. Anastasia pulled her damaged suit back across the surface, nearly slipping on the slick coating of the wing. The charred hinomaru helped keep her grip steady as she swung herself around and into the cabin. She took another breath of recycled air, before sealing the cabin once more. Filled with air once again, she opened her suit’s faceplate. “I don’t think it’ll send out anything too complex, but all I need are some dashes and dots…”

The technician started sending commands to the patched communications array, sending out a simple message.

... --- ... / -... .- .-. .-.. --- .-- -....- .... . ..


Act III
Fourteen Hours Later
L’Kor Space


Anastasia sat laid back in her seat, staring at the volumetric display projected over her. She had chosen to rest, but not sleep over the past few days, and it had started to take a toll on her mind. It was meandering absently, her eyes gazing between the beautiful yet cold void of space and the slideshow she had set up on display.

Sliding across the screen came one of the earliest photos she had on file, a photograph of the crew of the YSS Kaiyo on the day of its maiden voyage. There was Eden, Misaki, and the other bridge crew. There was Yoshida standing on her toes, trying to get as much as her petite figure in the photo as she could muster. There was Meissa, Arbitrated, and Seinosuke, which made it odd to think that they never knew each other back then. And then there was herself, standing nervously in the back left next to the only other technician… what was his name again? Her wing was broken.

The next crew photo was from the last day of their Kyoto vacation. It was much less formal, and many new faces had joined, including Orion, where others had faded out. The two commanding officers were married, and the ship had been repaired. She was repaired too, at least physically.

A frown split across Anastasia’s face, only to sharpen further as the next few photos slid by. They were damage reports, from the YSS Kaiyo. Engines blasted to pieces, the wreckage left over from the reactor overload, the makeshift teleportation drive she had built on Eden’s will. It was all there, and her name was written in the lines under each, in handwriting more powerful than her own.

The next two photos were from the maiden voyage of the second in the Kaiyo line, with a whole new row of crew members and new captain to boot.Some old were interspersed throughout, all of which seemed to have changed over time. Yoshida was still there next to her, and so was Orion. The second photo was a less formal posing on request of the first officer.


Anastasia sighed, before being jolted out of her reminiscing by an alarm. The technician closed the slideshow, rising from her back and looking at the console in front of her. Two ships were closing in far from behind, fighter size. At first, she couldn’t contain her surprise, the console proclaiming their alliances were with her. Then, the excitement sank into adrenaline as her subconscious reminded her that the computer was of L’Kor origin.

The technician flung herself back into her seat, letting out a painful wheeze as she clipped the restraining belt over her damaged torso. She knew this would come back to bite her.

The two L’Kor fighters encroached on the Sparrow slowly, investigating the outward transmission that had left the craft earlier. It wouldn’t be long before they realized the ship was not theirs anymore. Anastasia needed to act. She punched the controls on the console, disabling autopilot and praying these weapons still worked. In one fell motion, she yanked on the control sticks, flipping the Sparrow over abruptly and accelerating in the other direction. The restraint tugged on her chest, causing feelings of pain to erupt from her chest.

The two fighters were caught off guard by the sudden maneuver, rolling to either side and pulling away from the approaching fighter. Anastasia released one of the Sparrow’s missiles from the bay, joined with it… unneeded material. As the Sparrow flew uncontrollably close to the first fighter, Anastasia’s eyes locked with that of the brown-feathered pilot in the other cockpit. A brief instant of destructive animosity and terror was mutual between the two adversaries as they passed, over in an instant. The missile connected with the back end of the L’Kor fighter, a violent explosion splitting the craft apart in two as it spiraled out of control away from its path.

Debris impacted the back end of the Sparrow as Anastasia let out her held breath, bringing the craft back up into line from the maneuver, She was never going to do that again. Her heart couldn’t take it. The engines were hot and banged up from the explosion, but still in overall good condition-

A shot struck the right wing of the craft, shaking the cabin as a streak of plating was cut away by hot plasma. There was still the wingman to take care of. Anastasia pulled the controls back, curving the agile but damaged craft around to get her bearings. She arched back down, attempting to open fire on the following fighter. Nothing came from the cannons mounted to the Sparrows nose but an ominous silence. Red blinking lights flashed across the dash as she tried to fire, before another shot struck her right engine. The entire craft lurched, Anastasia frantically addressing the situation on the dashboard.

The technician punched several black and red buttons, disabling auto-assist features entirely. They were blocking her “friendly fire on the two assailants. The technician spun the craft around, maneuvering in the best unpredictable fashion she could muster from her limited experience. This was much lighter than a shuttle and overcorrected just as easily. More shots darted past the Sparrow, flashing the cabin with light as the barely missed it. Anastasia acted on her gut instinct, putting the ship through a corkscrew as another shot clipped the right. When she saw the ugly green and yellow paint of the other fighter, she let loose.

A stream of shots blasted out from the front of the Sparrow, peppering the enemy craft from a higher angle. The barrage of retaliation ended when one shot punched through the L’Kor’s sealed cockpit, ejecting the contents of its cabin in a rather gruesome sight. Anastasia pulled away from the compromised ship, not letting off the accelerator. Her breathing was heightened and her chest was erupting with pain as if she was being carved. The technician leaned back in her seat, gasping for air in a feeble attempt to calm down. Eventually, her adrenaline-induced panic came to an end with shock as she set her head on the console between her hands, taking steady breaths had her chest throbbed.


Log 8

Anastasia started logging only a few minutes after the attack, giving herself enough time to reach a state where she could speak.”I… I’m not entirely sure what overcame me. I was tailed by two L’Kor fighters, likely from my transmission…”

She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the stakes of the situation. “I was nearly shot down, and it feels like I came close to a heart attack afterward. I’m trying to calm down, but this...” Anastasia gritted her teeth through the pain, sitting up. She needed help. The technician reached into the side container of the seat, pulling out one of the hypospray injectors. She readied the injector, taking a deep breath as she plunged the needle into the most available vein in her right arm. The air seemed to leave her lungs along with the immense weight on her chest as the painkiller and stimulant spread like fire across her bloodstream.

She leaned back, gasping for air to fill her lungs again. She spoke again, relaxing quickly. “They were moving to disable, so I opened fire. They’re both downed, but now I’m afraid there will be more.” Anastasia leaned forward, looking at the various blinking displays begging for her attention. ‘Worse, the ship took hits. My right engine is inoperable, my shield is depleted, and there seems to be a hole in the left wing.” The technician sighed, rubbing their wrist. “I think I’m back on course. I don’t know if my navigation system was damaged, though… I’ll have to look into it.”


Log 9

Anastasia sank into the pilot seat, wearing her jury-rigged Mindy fresh from a spacewalk. The Elysian let out a defeated sigh. “After checking the damage on my ship, I’ve come to two… potentially disastrous conclusions. For one, my engines are in bad shape, and as such it’s going to take me much longer to make it into hearing range.’

Anastasia held back the words for a moment, a slight tear streaking away from her eye. “And the other… my navigation systems are damaged. They’ve been damaged this entire time, and haven’t been accounting for my actual speed. I’m much farther behind where I thought I was. I thought It would be days until I reached the Kikyo sector… but it’s very quickly turning into weeks.”

The Elysian sat back, taking off their helmet and tossing it to the side in frustration. She cut off the log for a brief minute of self-loathing in privacy. She was stupid not to have checked the calibration, and now she was down to the last few days worth of rations. The cobalt-winged Elysian vented her frustration and emotion out into the dead air, flinging herself back into the progressively-discomforting pilot seat. She finished the tantrum, letting her emotions burn off before resuming the log.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I need time to think of a new plan, but the longer I take the more resources I waste, and the more I waste, the more the thought of drifting through space comes back.” Anastasia almost growled, laying her head on the dashboard. She wasn’t quite over herself yet.


Whole minutes went by before something clicked in her head. She didn’t need to get all the way back to Yamataian space. There was still another option. The technician lifted their head, looking at the now calibrated map. There was a blank spot, right where she needed to be. “I think I may have figured something out. Barlow signing off.”

With that, the technician wrapped their fingers around the control sticks, bringing the YSS Sparrow around in a wide curve. The remaining engine groaned as it worked overtime to adjust course, before opening wide again as she straightened out into a new heading.


Log 10
Four Days Later


Anastasia held up the little dense pill in front of her, giving it a bit of a prayer. It was the last of her emergency rations she had salvaged. She was already feeling the effects of malnourishment, so she prayed this would hold her hunger for the last of the trip. Satisfied with the thought, she tipped her head back and dropped the rock-like pill down her throat. It hit her empty stomach like a little bomb, but she had gotten used to the super-condensed mineral pills enough to not flinch.

Finished with her “meal”, Anastasia exhaled and started speaking. “I’ve reached the end of my rations today. I’ve been out here for weeks on end now, and it’s starting to bring out all of the topic I didn’t want to talk about…” The technician leaned back in the same old seat that was beginning to show it’s wear, just like herself. Her hair had grown longer, the blue streak she kept so trimmed starting to fade to black. “I wonder daily if this was all just in vain. I don’t remember asking to be revived, but I still wonder if they did so anyway. Maybe, there’s been another me this whole time. Eating with the crew, doing my… her job. Living with Orion… telling stories to Yoshida.”

Anastasia frowned for a bit. “I’d rather not think about that kind of thing. I should be in range of help soon, though.” The wayward technician leaned back, looking out at the nearest star, it’s immense light filtered by the dark cockpit shielding. “I’ll be honest. I’m not sure this is going to work. I am going to attempt a controlled landing with one engine and half of my wingspan damaged. What I’m most worried about is the heat shields. They were damaged in the dogfight, and I’m not sure if there’s enough shielding left in my Mindy to keep me cool in landing.”

She stretched, letting herself float away from the seat. “So… I guess this will be a shot in the dark. At any rate, it’s my only option. I have no leads on any nearby starships, and this ship is already insignificant enough as it is.” She paused for a few moments, recalling her statement. “It’s significant to me, though.” It was her lifeline. It held up for her until now, it just needed to make one last maneuver, and it could rest. “It should be… eight hours from now.”

Log 11

Anastasia spoke somewhat hopefully, but anxiety was clearly audible in her speech. “This may be the last log I take before I enter orbit.” She paused, shivering while collecting her words before continuing. “And… I would like to talk about something I’ve been sitting on these past few months. It’s uh, something I was waiting to tell Yoshida, but I never got the chance. And given the stakes… it’s better I tell something.“

Anastasia began her parable. “When I received my Caelisolan upgrade months ago, I was given a free genetics report by the company. It seemed… off. Information was missing, and what was there was nonspecific. I wanted to know more about where I came from… so I reached out. I found a woman, who said they would dig into it for a modest fee. It seemed stupid to me at the time to accept, but she gave the first round of results for free. After digging around public files, she found my father. A plebeian, Dephon Lawson. His name was in the report, but no social contacts were given. According to her, he serves as a bartender at a tavern called The Caravan, working the same salary for twenty years…”

She paused for a moment, looking at the information on the display in front of her. “Two days before the SOFT mission, I got another update from the woman, this time for a fee. According to her, my mother's name is Sarital Cilo, a Patrician entrepreneur. She founded an engineering firm in Elysia, and the longer I think about it, the more familiar the name is.” Anastasia trailed off, shaking her head to refocus. “This was all speculation until she reached out to a contact within the company. She managed to get ahold of a digital copy of birth documents, adoption papers, from a place called the Delta Facility…”

She paused, slightly overwhelmed. “My birth name was Hestia Cilo. I was given up for private adoption only a month after my birth date. Artemis Barlow… he was a contractor for Cilo. He fixed the fabricators, she built him a house. It’s all coming back now, and as far as I can tell, the papers confirm it.”

‘Hestia’ leaned back, not speaking for several moments. “I’m not entirely sure what to make of it… But I feel like she didn’t want me to find out. I guess… it’ll be something for me to look into in the future.” Part of her wanted to know more, but she knew that the timing was all to wrong. Even then, digging can lead to uncovering things that you didn’t want to see.

Hestia shook away the thought. It wasn’t her. Her name was Anastasia. Cilo, Barlow, whatever. “I erm. I just wanted to read that while I still had a chance. In two hours, I’ll brace for entry.” Her voice was ladened with discomfort.

“See you then," was Anastasia’s only response to her nonexistent audience.


Act IV

Log 12
The Blank Spot


Anastasia shimmied her way into her salvaged Mindy, having gotten used to working her way into it with the lack of gravity. She slid back down into the seat of the fighter, keeping her helmet next to her. She was in orbit of a rather beautiful planet, it’s blue oceans and green forested continents taking up the entire view from the left side of her cockpit glass.

Anastasia started recording as her eyes gazed at the massive orb of life her tiny scrap of a craft was orbiting. She had arrived only a few minutes prior, and had taken the risk of transmitting an SOS signal ever since. “This is it…”

The technician couldn’t bear to form the words, her stomach was twisted in a tight knot of anticipation and discomfort. Everything she endured through the past few weeks lead her here, to the one place she had loathed. Komorebi. Though, as uncomfortable as the anomalous, still planet was to her, today it could be salvation. There were at least two people stationed on that planet, and she knew exactly where; assuming they weren’t killed by the underlying toxicity the planet’s eerie flora carried.

She spoke up. “I’ve been trying to reach the Star Army Outpost on Komorebi for thirty minutes, with no response. I am choosing to believe that they can hear my message, but I cannot hear them.” The Elysian paused, looking down at the control panel in front of her. “I… I need a moment.” Anastasia paused, letting her head fall to her balled up fists. She spoke to herself quietly, whispering not above a breath a prayer. Previous events had challenged her faith before, but she was in a time of crisis and in need of some kind of reassurance.

After a solid minute, she looked up again, leaning back in her seat as she gripped her charcoal-colored helmet in one hand. Her voice sounded no less calm, but now carried a stronger tone. “Proceeding with atmospheric entry, shallow arc,” The technician issued several commands and variables to the console, letting the autopilot generate a path. She sighed, pushing away the anxiety in her chest as she donned her helmet, latching it to the neck of the suit. “Confirm.”

The ship tilted downwards, pushing through into the thin outer layers of Komorebi’s stratosphere. Anastasia silently willed the ship onwards, knowing the consequences of failure. The YSS Sparrow started to vibrate as it began to encounter air resistance, filling the cabin with a light droning buzz. The technician bit her lip and brought up her Mindy’s HUD, checking the internal systems. The ship continued to descend, the dull vibrations soon turning into full-on shuddering. The heat brought about by friction started to well up around the ship, quickly heating up shields left on the outside hull.

Anastasia gripped the idle control sticks, not interfering with the autopilot. The Sparrow continued to drag, the frail heat shields starting to fail as it was subjected to damage not anticipated by the manufacturers. The cabin started to boil like a convection oven, life support systems trying to vent the heat in vain. Anastasia grit her teeth, the ceaseless shuddering of the craft jostling her vision. Flames that were once flickering around the outside of the ship were now engulfing the craft entirely, obscuring the outside view of the world as it plummeted down into the thicker layers of atmosphere.

With a disturbing jolt, the ship’s power supply gave out. The craft had given it’s all, but it failed under the immense heat and pressure. Anastasia swallowed the sudden dread, acting out of adrenaline. Her grip on sanity wore as the initial feelings of fear were drowned as the forces of gravity pulled at her every limb. “Not now, you bastard!” The technician punched forward the control sticks, breaking them out of the autopilot lock as emergency power kicked in. The ship lurched, the unbalanced pressure behind each side of the craft straining on her arms as she held steady. The fatigued cooling systems on her Mindy cast red warnings across the bottom of her vision, trying to warn her about how stupid of an idea this was.

The ship streaked fire across the sky like a comet before reaching stable air, the obscuring flames starting to thin out as Anastasia willed the engines to slow her down. She could see the mountains, the lakes, the unnaturally high trees all below her as the ship groaned. The backup power tried its hardest to slow her down for a softer landing but it was all too late. The ship skimmed across the horizon, losing precious altitude by the second. Anastasia struggled to yell in pain as the heat began breaching her wounded suit, but her words were pushed back into her throat. With a crash, one wing was torn from the craft as it clipped a nearby redwood, sending the Sparrow into a corkscrew. The Elysian was slammed against the side of the cabin, losing control of the now plummeting craft. A spiraling trail of smoke followed the ship as it disappeared into the immense forest.

The ship tore through the dense canopy, ripping branches from trees as it spun. Parts broke off left and right as the nose of the craft crumpled inwards, before the engines cut out completely. The YSS Sparrow skipped across the ground, the first impact crunching the landing gear completely. On the second bounce, it started to drag, a wake of dirt, rock, and fallen leaves forming a plume around the craft. The cabin of the craft ejected like an escape pod as the craft buckled under the force of the impact. The pod was in the air only a matter of seconds but the ordeal felt like an hour before the craft came to a stop, it’s smoking hull plowed halfway into the soft earth. Everything was eerily still afterward, parts of wing and tree falling to the ground in the wake of the landing.

Anastasia sat in her harness, tucked up in a ball position with her head supported between her arms. Her world was still spinning as pain flared up across her entire body. Dents had formed in her armor where the force of impact hit hardest. All she could hear was relentless ringing, and her brain was having issues making sense of what was around her. She either had a terrible concussion, or she was dead. A fire had ignited inside the cabin from the failed electrical system, prompting the release of the pod’s cracked windshield.

Anastasia took shallow breaths, her heart rate starting to calm down as a drowned out beep poked her ears. It felt like she couldn’t move for an eternity. Her suit’s air supply shut off as fresh, natural air filled her wheezing lungs. The technician moved slowly, releasing the partially melted harness that ran across her chest. She felt heavy, very heavy. The technician shakily hoisted themselves out of the half-buried pod, standing upon solid ground for the first time in what felt like an eternity of weightlessness. The broken control stick she held in one hand fell to the ground beside her mottled red jacket as her weak legs gave out from the gravity, dropping to her knees. Her mind was still trying to comprehend the wreckage and mess of earth that laid out before her, but she was crying, laughing. She had survived.

The technician let themselves fall to the ground willingly, her aching, broken body trying to keep up with her unchained mind. She laid there and let the bright amber sunset reflect off the scratches across her suit. Her hand wrapped around a clump of the soft soil, releasing it as the ringing in her ears faded away. After all that’s happened, she deserved a rest...



Komorebi
Crash Site
2010 Hours, Local Time
12日 9月 YE 39


The crunching of leaves under boots could be heard, approaching from far away over the banks of dirt. They slowed for a moment, before a muffled voice called out from the dusk. "My science scanner is detecting a faint life signal!"

"How!?" Came another shocked voice.

"Mindy armor! She's a friendly!" Anastasia's damaged hearing picked up the terse and energetic voice of a Neko to her team behind her as they picked up Anastasia's jacket off the ground. "She is a Jôtô Hei! Barlow-hei!" She began to pull the Elysian’s helmet off by searching for the manual controls.

There was no noticeable response. She was breathing, and her heart rate was abnormal. She could just barely hear the sound of shouting, drowned out and distant. Her face was bruised and her skin was visibly burnt, still warm to the touch.

"Keep her still, don't move her!" called another voice. "Her suit must be completely destroyed. I'll get comms up in this Empress-forsaken cabin while you go back to the shuttle and report over comms. We'll need a medic to strap in a Mindy and teleport down here. There's no time for another shuttle. For Empress' sake, is she here from the Battle of Komorebi, still?"

"No..." the Neko's voice said softly as Anastasia's hearing could pick up the footsteps around her as the SAoY personnel worked around her. "She's from the station massacre. She was marked MIA." After accessing PANTHEON's files on Anastasia, she put a hand on the Elysian woman's shoulder, pressing her own unarmored hand onto her Mindy and said clearly, "You're going to be okay." The snapping shut of a science scanner's pack could be heard with a heavy sigh as the Neko repeated while kneeling beside, "You're going to be alright."

The Elysian was clearly disconnected from her surroundings, letting out only a disgruntled groan in response to the distant question. She could feel something touching her shoulder, but she felt no pressure behind it.

A minute later and her companion returned, though Anastasia could hear a muffled second set of steps.

"I'm reading no breakage in the spinal column, thankfully, so she can be moved," came the third and final voice. "She's bleeding, possibly on the inside, too. Be careful..." The Neko beside her was directed to get up and grab Anastasia's shoulders while the other soldier got her legs. Together, they hoisted the armored angel up gently, carrying her to the shuttle with haste.


Happy late Thanksgiving, everyone! Thanks to @Ametheliana for doing some of the NPCing and also for letting me do this in general! I may work with her some more and do an actual IC transmission from Komorebi soon.
 
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