username & ID;; FluffyBirdie 750079
kalon name;; Marquis
prompt;; [ 499 / 500 ]
As the captain, there are things you should and shouldn't do.
You should stay calm. Think clearly. Think quickly. Unexpected explosions followed by the sounds of an alarm should spur you to action, not stun you. With experience comes composure, and both of those you have, as you order the scrambling crew around the ship and stare at screens filling up with pop-ups and alerts. Two engines lost. Fires in the lowest deck. The engines and fires are close to --
Hull breach in 20 minutes and 43 seconds. The warning flashes for barely a second before you hit the intercom button, barking at your crew to prepare for a warp. Closest habitable planet is XHW-03. The
only habitable planet nearby is XHW-03. Warp prep takes 10 minutes. Warping takes 6 seconds. Fuel? Enough. Fire damage? 34 minutes before it reaches critical systems, second priority.
Prep done. Warp. Arrival. Landing. Extinguish. Personnel check. Inventory check. Hull check. Damage check. Your mind is so devoted to the moment that time flew by without your notice. Mental to-do lists and notes flutter everywhere in your head, and only 5 hours after the explosion do you settle enough to look at the largest notes in your mind: There is no leaving with such a damaged hull. XHW-03 is habitable, yet it remains uninhabited. XHW-03 is very remote.
You should stay calm. Think clearly. Think quickly. With experience comes composure, except now you have neither, your neutral demeanor present only because you're stunned. But you are the leader, and so you must lead, even if you have never been stranded before. People turn to you to make the calls. And your crew trusts you; they will accept your decisions. Your responsibility.
As the captain, there are things you should and shouldn't do.
You shouldn't show despair. Stay positive. Make plans. Even if everyone else wails, you have to direct them, inspire them, encourage them. Speak brightly, for if the leader loses hope, so too will the rest of the team. You explore the planet, though is empty, habitable in the sense that its environment will not kill you immediately. You ration food carefully. 2 meals a day. There is a source of water here, you just need to filter it. You mediate disputes as your friends become restless.
Explore. Build. Cook. Filter. Talk. Health check. Inventory check. Morale check. Everyone falls into a routine, an almost mindless pattern of dealing with the basic necessities. Multiple attempts were made to fix the hull, but no one is experienced enough to properly repair it, nor do you have the materials for it. Hope is low, but you smile anyway; your crew relies on your strength. Your facade.
You shouldn't show despair. Stay positive. Make plans. Speak brightly, even as an image haunts you.
An image of XHW-03, nestled in a cluster of dead planets against a backdrop of vast emptiness.
An image of XHW-03, too far away for anyone to receive the distress signal.