Maj. Yogan Yannick — Hot Yogan

[+ Vitor S. Silveira]

We all know that a good mission start is important. Our next mission in the Artemis will take us to another universe, with other characters based on our prime ones.

By the looks of it we are starting with a bang, @Yalu with his huge talent has given us a new world to explore. Let this not be the last battle of the Desdemona.

 

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(( Crew compartment, CSC Overdone ))

The Measure-class of Commonwealth Small Craft was designed to comfortably accommodate two crew and two passengers. However, a series of increasingly desperate “upgrades” over the years had sacrificed most of CSC Overdone’s living space to make room for additional weapons and, more recently, the worryingly temperamental “prismic shield” generators. In her present state, two average-sized crew would find Overdone uncomfortably cramped.

Neither Yogan Yannick nor his colleague and friend Didrik Stennes were average-sized. On the long trip back from Casperia Prime—or rather, the orbital cemetery which Casperia Prime had become—both Yannick and Stennes had suffered their share of bruised knees, bumped heads, cricked necks, and sore backs. Still, the voyage had been relatively uneventful, and Yogan would take bumps and bruises over a Shint ambush any day. With only 24 hours left of the trip before their rendezvous with Desdemona, the two friends could get by on dreams of full-size bunks and proper replicated food.

Through the narrow, shoulder-scraping door at the forward end of the crew compartment lay the flight deck, where a panoply of consoles buzzed and beeped a reassuring, rhythmic staccato. The noise was jarring to the uninitiated, but to anyone who’d spent enough time aboard a Commonwealth ship, it just blended into the background. All systems showed operating condition green; it was when the buzzes and beeps stopped that they should be worried.

Overdone had sophisticated enough sensors to detect the presence of Shint warships, but the craft’s prismic shields were still experimental technology, liable to fail at least as often as they were to succeed. If they were lucky, the sensors would alert them and the shields would give them enough time to escape. If they weren’t lucky, no amount of advance warning from the sensors would help. The Shint reality-warping weapon would finish them one way or another.

Yogan tried not to lose himself to existential dread. With more than 60 lifetimes of memories now swirling around in his head, it was hard to stop the cascade reaction when any of them got riled up. Instead, he distracted himself by Stennes’ comical attempt to extricate himself from the half-chair, half-bed crammed into the corner of the crew compartment.

Stennes: I’m heading aft to prepare dinner. ::beat:: Unless you want me to hang around for a while longer and keep you company.

Yogan gave a wan smile. Didrik’s intentions were noble, but the last thing Yogan needed was more companionship. The one thing he wanted—to be alone with his own thoughts and no one else’s—was the one thing he could never have again. His forced Joining at the hands of Shint kidnappers had permanently deprived him of solitude. Didrik’s offer to “keep him company” was really a thinly veiled offer to keep an eye on Yogan, in case he started to lose his mind again.

Yannick: No, that’s okay, Didrik. Go for it.

The Human hesitated and looked at Yogan with narrowed eyes.

Stennes: I’m happy to wait a bit. There’s no rush. ::half-exhales, half-laughs:: Reconstituted potatoes are at the top of nobody’s to-eat list.

Didrik’s tone was measured and affable, but through his every word was woven a thread of barely concealed worry. His quaint Norwegian accent emphasized his concern, especially when he tried to play it off with humor. In the darkest of times, when a new planet fell every day, Didrik’s stories about growing up in the idyllic-sounding corner of Earth helped keep everyone sane. And alive.

Yogan wondered if there was even a Norway left anymore. It had been so long since anyone had heard news from that part of the Commonwealth.

Yannick: Really, I’ll be fine for ten minutes while you boil a bag of atoms.

Stennes: Okay. Just call if you need me.

Yogan nodded and bit the inside of his cheeks as Didrik squeezed his shoulders through the hatch and disappeared into the galley. Despite himself, he smiled at the sight.

Yannick: oO Misery loves company. Oo

The one thing Yogan had in abundance was company. He’d lain awake the night before trying to count the sets of distinct identities his symbiont carried. Jarve, Yajad, Somar, Ozera, Reezia… He’d stopped at 43. If Yogan were lucky, he’d have the rest of a long life to take attendance of the voices in his head.

But the Commonwealth wasn’t exactly on a lucky streak these days. And neither was Yogan.

Stennes had led the mission to rescue Yogan from the Shint, but they didn’t get to him until after the symbiont had already been placed in his gut. Once Joined, nothing further could be done. Removing Yannick would kill Yogan, so the only thing he could do was adjust. After three weeks of “recovery” leave, Commonwealth Medical had given Yogan a clean bill of health and a fitness for duty certificate, which everyone seemed to respect but no one truly believed. When the entire Commonwealth is on the verge of collapse, a long and difficult rehabilitation program would be a waste of resources.

Voice of Kallah Yannick: oO You’re a waste of resources, Yogan. Oo

The prior Yannicks had a way of saying the absolute worst thing at the worst time. Futilely, Yogan stuck his fingers in his ears to quiet the rising cacophony.

Yannick: Stop it.

Voice of Yarjel Yannick: oO They really shouldn’t have bothered coming for you. Oo

Yannick: Yes they should have. I had vital information about the war effort.

Voice of Darzoss Yannick: oO If you can even find the information inside that mess of memories you call a mind. Oo

Yannick: Quit talking to them, Yogan. They’re not really here.

Voice of Hazka Yannick: oO We’re always here. And we’re going nowhere. Oo

The voices of dozens more Yannicks joined in, distracting Yogan from the fact that the beeps and buzzes from the flight deck had gone silent, and a Shint corvette had closed on their position.

(( Galley, CSC Overdone ))

Didrik had just taken two servings of reconstituted potato out of the dispenser slot when the deck plating shuddered underfoot.

Stennes: Computer, what just happened?

Computer: =/\= A Shint corvette, bearing 035 mark 002, has locked on a tractor beam. Recommend activating tactical systems. =/\=

Stennes: Dammit, Yogan.

Didrik dropped the steaming hot wrappages of potato, and they landed on the deck with a dull splat, oozing starch in all directions. He slammed the hatch control with the heel of his hand, then forced himself through it when it only opened part way.

(( Crew compartment, CSC Overdone ))

Didrik had never seen the effects of the Shint reality manipulating weapons up close before. He’d watched on a viewscreen as it slowly, agonizingly consumed ships, orbital platforms, even a small moon once, but this was the first time he saw a living person ensnared in it.

Didrik looked at the forward half of the craft as if through a thin film of soap. Everything on the other side of the weapon horizon was distorted—shapes squashed, colors muted, noises tinny—like trying to play a corrupted holonovel.

Stennes: Frak. Computer, reinitialize the prismic shields!

Computer: Prismic shields can only be controlled from the flight deck.

Crossing the weapon barrier to the flight deck was not an option, and as the Shint tractor beam drew Overdone closer, the reality field consumed ever more of it. Behind the barrier, still lying awkwardly in his makeshift bunk, Yogan appeared unaware that he was being manipulated out of existence. Officers who’d lived through a Shint reality attack often said the confusion was so debilitating that they didn’t realize what was happening to them until it was almost too late. At least he wouldn’t feel any pain.

Stennes: I’m sorry, Yogan. I can’t save you this time.

With few alternatives, Didrik passed back into the galley and closed the hatch behind him. Treading back and forth through the spilled potato, he downloaded as many of the ship’s computer files and logs as he could. When the weapon horizon pushed past the bulkhead into the galley, he yanked a few dozen data chips out of the wall and crammed them into a knapsack.

The ladder down to the escape pods had come partially off its rails, knocking Didrik off balance. He landed hard and scrambled to his feet. With any luck, he’d get far enough away from Overdone before the Shint completely destroyed it.

(( Escape pod Overdone/01 ))

If Overdone was cramped, its escape pods were cruel and unusual punishment. Didrik’s knee bumped his ear as he strapped himself into the seat, and then collided with his eye socket when the pod rocketed out of its dock and into space. He fired up the thrusters and pointed them away from Overdone, then took a moment to rub his throbbing eye.

Stennes: That’s bruising.

A minute or two later, the pod’s computers registered an implosion nearby. Didrik managed to catch the last blip of Overdone as it vanished from the sensor scans. He activated an ultra low-band frequency—a trick someone from the Unified Resistance had taught him—and started broadcasting.

Stennes: =/\= This is Major Didrik Stennes to any Commonwealth or allied ship within range. My Fleet ident and my coordinates are attached to this message. I was traveling from Casperia to rendezvous with CIC Desdemona when my craft was attacked by a Shint corvette armed with a reality weapon. I escaped in a lifeboat. My craft was destroyed and my crewmate… ::beat:: my crewmate was killed. Requesting any assistance. =/\=

Before he attempted to get comfortable (heh) and wait for rescue, he checked his knapsack. Inside were a few dozen data chips. All of them contained useful information, but one of them held a secret that could possibly tip the scales of war in the Commonwealth’s favor. He held the knapsack close and, with nothing else to do, allowed himself to hope.

TBC

(( OOC: I will follow up with a mission opener and tags for everyone in a few hours. It's fine if shore leave scenes overlap with mission scenes for the next few days as you bring the former to their natural conclusions. Just remember to use [Backsim] in your sim titles for any leftover shore leave stuff. ))

Major Yogan Yannick (deceased)
Executive Officer
CIC Desdemona RNS-601
D238804DS0

 

Edited September 10, 2023 by Vitor S. Silveira
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