@Randal Shayne Dude, I think anytime you use the word "bulbous" in a post, that's worthy of appreciation. I loved it!
((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Blackwell))
::Shayne nodded to an ensign near him, conveying that she should try and speak to engineering. She complied, and Shayne turned back to the problem at hand. Their priorities were aviate, navigate, communicate, in that order. They needed to stop this bulbous thing. For the time being, they had to assume that conventional methods of control had failed. What could even begin to slow them down at three quarters impulse?::
Shayne: ::Spewing the idea as it came to him.:: What if we explosively decompressed the forward sections of the ship? It would knock us back, negate some of our inertia.
::It sounded good for a split second, but he realized it would never work. By the time they’d cleared the forward sections of personnel, they might as well be stopped by one of those asteroids. Plus, it wasn’t just the fact that they were maintaining a constant speed; it was becoming increasingly apparent that the Blackwell was losing lateral stability. A sudden decompression of the scale he was suggesting would likely thrust her into a completely unmanageable tailspin.::
Shayne: No, no- strike my last, all.
::What a wonderful first impression to present to Zaekia. Blast it!::
::It was at that moment, that both he and Thoran recognized the same sensor data at the same time. There was one hazard directly in their path and sensors at both helm and tactical lit up like a Christmas tree. Two asteroids, roughly the size of Texas, had collided directly in the Blackwell’s path several hundred meters ahead. An explosive emissive purple cloud sent a shockwave from the center of the collective mass.::
::Sensors, as limited as they were in their functionality, indicated a large dilithium cache at the center of the largest smashed asteroid. Though this was fascinating stuff, and more than likely could explain the source of the uncontrolled Eichner radiation spike, it would not help them get around their current predicament. If the Blackwell could not regain control of herself in time and collided with either large debris mass, it would spell most certain disaster for both ship and crew.::
Thoran: We’ve got a lot of debris up ahead. If we don’t stop or divert course soon, we’re all going to be in a lot of trouble.
Wilmer: Captain, recommend full manual control on helm.
::It was a desperate option, to be sure. At this speed, with such clumsy controls, and with such a dangerous adversary ahead, Wilmer was proposing suicide. Unless their newest helmsman was a force of nature, they’d had it.::
Wilmer: Tactical, reroute all available power to the main deflector. We can’t go around, we got to go through.
::Why did the universe hate him? Wilmer was right- there wouldn’t be enough time to avoid a collision- their collective best bet was to dive forward, and pray that the deflector would hold.::
Thoran: Main deflectors all primed Commander. Just hope it can take the hits.
::Shayne made sure that the power he’d taken from the replicators and the holodecks was now being filtered into the deflector system- every little bit counted.::
Wilmer: Captain, I’m modulating power from the main deflector to emit a constant, intermittent shock-pulse.
Shayne: oO Oh, you brilliant man. Oo
::The shock pulse might just keep the larger objects out of their way. Almost as if they were swatting them from their path. If the deflector was strong enough to keep every asteroid on a harmless trajectory, they might just make it through the gauntlet. But should even a single rock penetrate Wilmer’s brilliance, their entire plan of attack could easily fail.::
Wilmer: Everybody hang on, we’re going to scream our way through.
::There were few things worse than being a passenger. Shayne kept his eyes glued on his instruments, seeking ways to improve their chances. But at the end of the day, it was up to Wilmer.::
::And then his teeth disintegrated.::
::The low-pitched tone of the enhanced deflector, combined with the skull shaking vibrations, formed a barrage against his psyche that he was unlikely to soon forget. It was so uncomfortable he could barely stand it. But he forced his mind to stay on the task at hand. Eyes wide with determination, teeth clenched in righteous anger, he attempted to balance the power surges that had begun to show themselves. The strain Wilmer was putting on the EPS grid was likely biblical.::
Ilsam: =/\=Ilsam to Bridge.=/\=
::Shayne could barely hear the call over the deafening white noise.::
Ilsam: =/\=We have concluded the situation in the Greenhouse, sir, and the patients are being escorted to Sickbay by a nurse. While it will be necessary at some stage to speak further with the patients, at the present time, I find myself free and able to go where I am most needed.=/\=
::He saw it an instant before its effects were known. A preposterously large spike in the main grid alerted him to the disaster unfolding, but not quickly enough to do anything about it. The deflector detonated beneath them, and the ship was flung into chaos.::
::The randomness of the Blackwell’s newest course made it impossible to brace himself. He was tossed about like a ragdoll in a skydive, smacking a nearby console and a wall with resounding might. For a moment, there were two bridges, two realities, two Shaynes. And then it all came back together with resounding clarity. His lower neck screamed, and for a horrific moment, he wondered if there was damage to his spinal column. With dread, he tried to move his arm. He never thought he’d be so positively overjoyed to see his limb follow his commands.::
Wilmer: (pulling himself up from the floor and to his seat) Well…we’ve stopped…helm control restored….what’s left of it.
::With great deliberation, Shayne picked himself off the ground. He struggled to his station, and attempted to get an understanding of their condition.::
Shayne: It looks like someone’s taken the nacelles offline. The EPS grid is a disaster zone.
Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne
Helmsman/Ops Officer/Second Officer