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janestarzJuly 19th, 2003 / 025-1104
Parappa bent over his controls at Moira's nod, and the ship banked in a turn.
"Submarine Ocean's Bounty has just surfaced at the shore;" the mayor of Salbarii continued; "And we've put out a call on all frequencies for people to go to Barvinn to be evacuated. Local authorities will pick up on that and make sure people will get to the gravtrain. What I need you to do is collect any stragglers. Barvinn is a small town with a couple of hundred people in it, we expect those to be evacuated on the train without problems. Nearest coastal town is Osterhouse..."
As he was rambling on about the evacuation plans, Dendr pulled up the maps of the area. The scout ship's scanners were working hard to extrapolate the data from the volcano and trying to predict the flow of lava. Moira's smooth piloting skills made for an almost pleasant ride while the nearby volcano was slowly spewing lava down the south-eastern side. There was no rain of debris clattering on their hull yet, but could change in the near future.
"...need you to predict the lava flow. Map the terrain, model the lava flow, monitor the mountain and report back to me." The mayor finally concluded his ramblings. After Dendr's acknowledgement, the connection was dropped.
Parappa started to count on his fingers again. "Moira, keep doing this amazing job flying, and Dendr, you're on comms. We will need to get those passengers onboard. So who...?"
Hasta unlocked his seat harness and was already on his feet. Qupar followed suit. "That'll be us."
Parappa turned to Myles. "Can you take engineering?"
Myles nodded, and the comms beeped again.
"This is Dictator Masterson. I'm on my way to Salbarii. Those who can't make it to Salbarii will get to Barvinn. What I need you to do is monitor the lava, give us up-to-date information. As it stands at the moment Osterhaus will be cut off. Once you get your preliminary readings, get to Osterhaus and get those people out."
"Affirmative, Dick....tator." Dendr acknowledged, inserting a meaningful pause. Then he turned to the rest of the crew. "This place is run by a dictator? As a fan of democracy, is there any way we can flip him the bird on the way?"
"I don't think this is the right time." Myles grumbled while heading out to engineering.
"Just remember, even in a democracy, you still get screwed by the boss." Qupar reminded them as he followed Hasta and Myles out.
"At least I get to choose which barrel I bend over." Dendr called out after him.
"We might need a little goodwill to get off this planet." Moira reminded him gently.
Parappa transferred the latest readouts from the scanners to Dendr's panel so he could relay the news to the dictator.
"Lava will reach Barvinn in 1 to 2 hours." Parappa said. "Barvinn might not even be safe."
He tapped the panels in front of him. Moira's piloting provided the scout ship's sensor array with enough time to get some readings on the mountainside and the state of the volcano while they made their fly-overs. The scout ship's computers churned happily on the data. On Parappa's screens the data was scrolling slowly; estimated temperature, stresses in the mountainside, and estimations for the eruption all rolled by.
"Can we perhaps release some of the pressure on the eastern side of the volcano, so the eruption wouldn't be as bad on the southwestern side?" Moira glanced over to Parappa. None of them were educated in geology, so they were forced to trust the computer on the best course of action.
Parappa tapped the screen, creating several blue squares on the map to highlight nearby settlements on the eastern side of the mountain. They would be directly in the lava's predicted flow if they followed through on that plan. Not a good option, then.
"First things first." Parappa transferred data to Moira's screens. "If you land at these coordinates we should be safe to plant a seismic sensor."
He communicated his instructions down to the cargo bay over the intercom, so Hasta, Myles and Qupar could dash out through the cargo bay ramp to plant the tall rod. The air was thick with smoke and smelled badly of sulphur, but the little filter masks minister Greene had given them made breathing the sulphurous air a little easier. As soon as the seismic sensor was in place, they jumped back on board and gave Moira the all-clear to take off.
"Data is coming in." Parappa reported, tracking the data on the screen with his index finger. "The lava flow rate is dropping, temperature is dropping... but why?"
He waited while the computer interpreted. "A plug is forming?" He read the computer explanation excitedly. "Could be a good thing, but if pressure builds up behind the plug, another eruption is likely. Could be as bad as a dam bursting, or it could take out half the mountainside."
The computer beeped urgently. "It's reading an increase in pressure. We should get out of here!"
Moira swerved the High and Dry, making sure to get some distance between the volcano and the tiny scout ship. It still drifted to the left, but she had it under control.
Meanwhile, Dendr called the dictator to relay the newest information from the seismic sensor. "It looks like the lava flow is slowing down, but an eruption might be coming soon."
"I see. We have a situation on our end. The train is at Barvinn but a couple of hamlets will not make it to the submarine or the train station in time. I'm going to *order* you to fly out and rescue these people. It's a life or death situation."
"Oh really?" Dendr said, turning around in his seat to glance at Hasta who came back onto the bridge, ripping off his filter mask. Apparently he heard the dictator's final remark, because he stomped over to Dendr's side, bent over the panel and growled into the receiver. "Dude, you have to say please. We don't work for you."
"Well." There was a startled pause. "Alright...Please?"
Dendr turned back to the comms station. "That actually does help." He waved Hasta away and the scowling man turned away with a wry half-smile on his face.
"There are eleven people unaccounted for;" dictator Masterson said.
"Where are we taking them?" Dendr inquired.
"We'll have to figure that out later. Right now we have to cut our losses and you need to get to these people as soon as you can."
"What do you mean, 'cut our losses'?" Dendr inquired. The journalist in him had a talent for sniffing out people avoiding dodgy questions and it had just kicked into high gear. He could smell the dictator was trying to cover something up.
"There's two elderly people at another place, but you won't make it in time;" the dictator said vaguely, evading the question.
Dendr frowned. "We'll get to them too;" he said.
"Just rescue these eleven people;" the dictator spat, obviously annoyed at the cheeky answer. Then he remembered. "Please."
"Hang on." Dendr said, muting the connection. Then he turned it back on and rephrased; "Hang on, please."
Parappa turned to Dendr. "Get coordinates from him for both parties. I can plan the fastest route and find a safe landing zone to get them both out."
Moira nodded empathically, and Dendr turned back to get the coordinates from the dictator. After sending them on to Parappa's console, the radar screen blipped a warning. An object was approaching them from the north, its transponder code reading Walston One. It was moving dangerously fast through the ash plume, and Parappa could imagine visibility on that ship was zero.
A comm request beeped and when Dendr accepted the communication, a gravelly vargr voice spoke over the speakers. He had obviously been listening in on the earlier communications between Masterson and the High and Dry. "This is Walston One. Get the larger group, I'll go and get my parents."
The connection was terminated immediately after, and on the radar screen the blip continued at breakneck speed.
"We've got room in the air raft bay." Moira said. The previous crew had taken the air raft and left the bay empty. "If need be we pick up the entire gravcar with those people in it." She sighed. "I wonder if the dictator sent us to the group of eleven because the others are vargr."
She well remembered how minister Green had disregarded Parappa during their meeting, even referring to Parappa as 'that bwap'.
The smoking volcano in the distance had people running around in a panic between their hovels and cattle sheds. The small tremors had warned them something was going on with the volcano and when the first lava started flowing down the mountainside the panic had started. They were grabbing things hastily to take along. There was no rhyme or reason behind their packing. Supplies, blankets, their favourite pet and that one special quilt that was so dear to aunt Molly -- all were stowed in crates, duffels and even baskets. One of them shouted and pointed. In the distance they could see the gravtrain from Barvinn leaving, and they knew there would not be another one coming.
On the other side of their homesteads at the shore where the submarine had been, waves lapped at the shore, and as they turned to look for the submarine they could see the vessel was slowly sinking beneath the waves, leaving them behind. Several people were dumbstruck, staring at their last hope now disappearing beneath the waves. Children cried.
On the volcano side of the settlement there was a small scout ship descending, setting down near the cattle sheds. Its engines threw up a cloud of dust, making it harder to breathe. Under the nose of the ship a large section started moving and a ramp lowered down. Three men in breathing masks moved out of the ship down the ramp to greet the refugees and help them inside.
"Get on the ship." Hasta said by way of greeting in an authoritative voice commanding attention. "You're not the only people we need to save."
"No livestock." Qupar admonished, shooing a couple of sheep away from the ramp.
It took them all of five minutes to get the people on board and the ramp raised. Chunks of rock and boulders were raining down on the homesteads and around them. The clatter of rocks hitting the hull was deafening. As soon as Qupar called up the all-clear over the intercom, Moira took off. She was wrestling with the controls, trying to avoid some of the largest boulders. A wall of cloud seemed to come off the volcano, rolling down the mountainside and the surrounding pastures towards them. Where to go?
"Up and over." Moira said softly. "Space is up. Space is safe." She pulled back on the controls and the engines churned to gain altitude.
The comms panel warbled a distress call. Roaring winds buffeted the microphone in a way that sounded like a windshield had been broken. The whine of tortured lift units was unmistakable in the background.
"Mayday, mayday. This is Walston One. Windows are cracked. Drive is failing. Is anyone there?" the vargr voice they had earlier called out.
"Parappa, can you get me a vector?" Moira asked.
The small gravcar had already dropped off the radar, but its transponder beacon was still on, allowing Parappa to plot a course. "I can;" the bwap replied when he had it. "The projected crash site of the Walston One is two minutes away. The bad news is the pyroclastic flow is only two minutes further out." He blanched. "It will be a close call."
He keyed the ship's intercom to warn the people in the cargo bay to hold on, and to notify Myles, Hasta and Qupar for their next daring rescue. The video feed from outside showed it was pitch black out there; Moira was flying mostly on her instrument readouts. Data coming in from the seismic sensors spelled disaster in lava-coloured letters. The volcano wasn't slowing down its eruption, spewing ashes, rock and lava at the surrounding lands. The air was charged with electricity and lightning stabbed along the clouds and at the soil.
As the High and Dry approached the transponder signal, three flares shot up, giving an eerie light through the thick billowing smoke. The ramp was already moving down as soon as the ship had touched down, and the three jumped out. The wind whipped the ash into a frenzy so fast it was moving horizontally, and the gravcar was a dim shape. The refugees in the cargo bay were coughing loudly as the three men in their breathing masks went out to grab the three vargr to bring them on board. Qupar grabbed the elbow of one, Myles of the other, while Hasta urged the youngest of the three, who needed little encouragement to jump out and help the elderly vargr through the storm of ashes. Once inside, Qupar guided the elderly to seats, dislodging several spry humans that seemed fit enough to be holding on by themselves, and helped the vargr strap into the seat harnesses. He checked them quickly for wounds but as far as he could tell from their furry hides there were only superficial cuts and bruises from the crash or from the volcano's debris raining down.
Moira took the ship up again as soon as the cargo bay ramp had closed. She monitored the outside conditions and weighed their options. The dust cloud was rolling around them and going up high wouldn't stop it from engulfing the ship completely, meaning poor visibility and lots of turbulence. If they ran in front of the cloud to the sea the storm would still have caught up to them, and turning the ship nose-first into the cloud would have provided a slim chance the ship's aerodynamics would have dispersed the cloud around the ship.
It was a split-second decision, based on her experience as a pilot. She settled on a compromise between what seemed to be the best options, and steered the ship nose-first towards the cloud, but pulled up at the same time, hoping to rise above the onslaught. Her cargo, now sixteen humans, three vargr and a bwap, were counting on her to get the ship to safety.
"Hang on!" she shouted into the ship-wide comms.
As the winds buffeted the ship she tried to compensate, but there was little she could do to keep it a smooth ride. The volcano's violence caused massive turbulence that tossed the ship wildly. On the bridge they were safely strapped into harnesses in their seats, but the people in the cargo bay were worse off. There was little in the way of cargo to smash them against the bulkheads, but there wasn't much to hold on to either. The refugees screamed as the ship bucked and rolled, and everyone lost their footing. Hasta, Qupar and Myles were in the same predicament, and as the ship rolled, they were violently tossed about as the ship juked and vibrated with the hostile turbulence outside. There was no way to stop rolling with the ship until their bodies collided painfully with the bulkheads, floor, or other people. Hasta was too stubborn to stay down for long and Myles looked uncomfortable and apologetic as he tried to get off the farmer he had collided with. They were all bruised and bleeding, but Qupar didn't seem too badly affected. He rolled as much as the rest of them, but he shrugged it off easily, way more easily than he should have for a cop.
The nose of the High and Dry pointed up towards the sky that was roiling black clouds, lightning and ash. Ever higher Moira tried to coax the ship, trying to get away from the ground, the volcano, and the wild winds. Up, up and higher up the nose pointed.
The lights suddenly went off all at once. The hum of the engines had stopped completely but after a few seconds at least emergency lights clicked on and the screens flickered for a moment as main power cut out and backup power took over. Moira tried frantically to get the drive back on, but without power it was a futile effort. There was no way the emergency power would be sufficient to provide the engines with what they needed to maintain their lift.
"Myles! Get to the engine bay and reactivate the drive. I'll reboot main power." Moira spoke into the comms.
She was acutely aware of their trajectory flattening off because the engines were shut down and the wind would have free reign on the ship without the engines fighting it. As sleek as the scout ship looked when it was airborne, it was not an aeroplane. It wasn't capable of generating aerodynamic lift and it wouldn't be able to glide safely down to the planet surface. They needed to get power and the drive back up.
"Reboot the control systems;" she instructed Myles over the comms. Parappa tapped the flickering screens to his left to override the safety cut-outs. The computer obviously didn't enjoy people doing such strange things mid-flight but he insisted. He instructed the ship to ignore the safety warnings for now and spoke to Myles over ship's comms. "The manual override should work now."
Down in engineering Myles obviously did what was required, because Dendr was able to quickly reboot the control systems. The ship was still moving forward at high speed but its trajectory was erratic at best. A clunk from the engine room, a sputter, and the drive came back on. Moira immediately turned back to the flight controls. Their altitude had dropped significantly and the nose of the ship was no longer pointing up to the sky. It was spinning wildly in the harsh winds and ash cloud that surrounded them. Grinding her teeth together, Moira did the fastest thing she could to get the ship pointing the right way again. She twisted the ship, rolled hard, and levelled out parallel to the ground.
Curses, shouts and cries of pain drifted up from the cargo bay. People were probably not pleased with the almost military nonchalance that she had adopted to get the ship pointing the right way again, but that was a problem for another moment. They had power, they were going the right way, more or less, and Moira said softly; "Thank you for flying Pizza Express."
"Impact inevitable." the computer intoned impersonally.
They were flying the right way up again, but the manoeuvre had ended with them so close to sea level, it was clear they were going to hit the water. She wouldn't be able to pull up again in time, and there was only one thing to do.
"Brace for impact!" Moira shouted.
She managed to pull the nose of the High and Dry up just in time but the belly of the ship and the aft engines hit the water with a loud crash. Their combined power quickly enabled the ship to pull free from the water, climbing up again.
"Come in High and Dry. We lost you in the cloud, please come in." The voice of dictator Masterson demanded an update came from the comms deck.
"This is High and Dry. We are currently counting heads and sweeping up vomit." Dendr communicated. He was pale and seemed close to vomiting himself.
"How many on board?"
"Fourteen."
"Fourteen?" Masterson replied incredulously. "Marvellous news. That was my chauffeur, got it into his head to go off on his own."
Apparently the dictator had seen enough of their antics on his screens to know they picked up the vargr as well as the refugees. "Go to Medical Facilities in Central Lake and they'll take care of you there. What is the status of the refugees?"
"Wait a moment while I check with our chief medical officer." Dendr replied. He muted the connection to Masterson and checked in with Qupar, who was already back up and taking care of the refugees in the cargo bay.
"Lots of bruises, some broken bones." Qupar replied to Dendr's inquiry. Aside from being a little green in the face he didn't seem to be suffering himself, while the people around him were moaning, clutching bruised and broken limbs and noses.
Dendr returned to the comms panel, but had already forgotten what Qupar had told him. "Let's just get them a full medical checkup. The works. Can you arrange that?"
Masterson replied he would, and broke the connection.
"Is this guy allergic to sending us coordinates?" Moira muttered to Parappa. He checked the navigation and provided her with the necessary coordinates to Central Lake where no doubt those poor refugees would be very glad to be back on solid ground again.
Read the next entry in this campaign.
Read the first entry in this campaign.
Parappa bent over his controls at Moira's nod, and the ship banked in a turn.
"Submarine Ocean's Bounty has just surfaced at the shore;" the mayor of Salbarii continued; "And we've put out a call on all frequencies for people to go to Barvinn to be evacuated. Local authorities will pick up on that and make sure people will get to the gravtrain. What I need you to do is collect any stragglers. Barvinn is a small town with a couple of hundred people in it, we expect those to be evacuated on the train without problems. Nearest coastal town is Osterhouse..."
As he was rambling on about the evacuation plans, Dendr pulled up the maps of the area. The scout ship's scanners were working hard to extrapolate the data from the volcano and trying to predict the flow of lava. Moira's smooth piloting skills made for an almost pleasant ride while the nearby volcano was slowly spewing lava down the south-eastern side. There was no rain of debris clattering on their hull yet, but could change in the near future.
"...need you to predict the lava flow. Map the terrain, model the lava flow, monitor the mountain and report back to me." The mayor finally concluded his ramblings. After Dendr's acknowledgement, the connection was dropped.
Parappa started to count on his fingers again. "Moira, keep doing this amazing job flying, and Dendr, you're on comms. We will need to get those passengers onboard. So who...?"
Hasta unlocked his seat harness and was already on his feet. Qupar followed suit. "That'll be us."
Parappa turned to Myles. "Can you take engineering?"
Myles nodded, and the comms beeped again.
"This is Dictator Masterson. I'm on my way to Salbarii. Those who can't make it to Salbarii will get to Barvinn. What I need you to do is monitor the lava, give us up-to-date information. As it stands at the moment Osterhaus will be cut off. Once you get your preliminary readings, get to Osterhaus and get those people out."
"Affirmative, Dick....tator." Dendr acknowledged, inserting a meaningful pause. Then he turned to the rest of the crew. "This place is run by a dictator? As a fan of democracy, is there any way we can flip him the bird on the way?"
"I don't think this is the right time." Myles grumbled while heading out to engineering.
"Just remember, even in a democracy, you still get screwed by the boss." Qupar reminded them as he followed Hasta and Myles out.
"At least I get to choose which barrel I bend over." Dendr called out after him.
"We might need a little goodwill to get off this planet." Moira reminded him gently.
Parappa transferred the latest readouts from the scanners to Dendr's panel so he could relay the news to the dictator.
"Lava will reach Barvinn in 1 to 2 hours." Parappa said. "Barvinn might not even be safe."
He tapped the panels in front of him. Moira's piloting provided the scout ship's sensor array with enough time to get some readings on the mountainside and the state of the volcano while they made their fly-overs. The scout ship's computers churned happily on the data. On Parappa's screens the data was scrolling slowly; estimated temperature, stresses in the mountainside, and estimations for the eruption all rolled by.
"Can we perhaps release some of the pressure on the eastern side of the volcano, so the eruption wouldn't be as bad on the southwestern side?" Moira glanced over to Parappa. None of them were educated in geology, so they were forced to trust the computer on the best course of action.
Parappa tapped the screen, creating several blue squares on the map to highlight nearby settlements on the eastern side of the mountain. They would be directly in the lava's predicted flow if they followed through on that plan. Not a good option, then.
"First things first." Parappa transferred data to Moira's screens. "If you land at these coordinates we should be safe to plant a seismic sensor."
He communicated his instructions down to the cargo bay over the intercom, so Hasta, Myles and Qupar could dash out through the cargo bay ramp to plant the tall rod. The air was thick with smoke and smelled badly of sulphur, but the little filter masks minister Greene had given them made breathing the sulphurous air a little easier. As soon as the seismic sensor was in place, they jumped back on board and gave Moira the all-clear to take off.
"Data is coming in." Parappa reported, tracking the data on the screen with his index finger. "The lava flow rate is dropping, temperature is dropping... but why?"
He waited while the computer interpreted. "A plug is forming?" He read the computer explanation excitedly. "Could be a good thing, but if pressure builds up behind the plug, another eruption is likely. Could be as bad as a dam bursting, or it could take out half the mountainside."
The computer beeped urgently. "It's reading an increase in pressure. We should get out of here!"
Moira swerved the High and Dry, making sure to get some distance between the volcano and the tiny scout ship. It still drifted to the left, but she had it under control.
Meanwhile, Dendr called the dictator to relay the newest information from the seismic sensor. "It looks like the lava flow is slowing down, but an eruption might be coming soon."
"I see. We have a situation on our end. The train is at Barvinn but a couple of hamlets will not make it to the submarine or the train station in time. I'm going to *order* you to fly out and rescue these people. It's a life or death situation."
"Oh really?" Dendr said, turning around in his seat to glance at Hasta who came back onto the bridge, ripping off his filter mask. Apparently he heard the dictator's final remark, because he stomped over to Dendr's side, bent over the panel and growled into the receiver. "Dude, you have to say please. We don't work for you."
"Well." There was a startled pause. "Alright...Please?"
Dendr turned back to the comms station. "That actually does help." He waved Hasta away and the scowling man turned away with a wry half-smile on his face.
"There are eleven people unaccounted for;" dictator Masterson said.
"Where are we taking them?" Dendr inquired.
"We'll have to figure that out later. Right now we have to cut our losses and you need to get to these people as soon as you can."
"What do you mean, 'cut our losses'?" Dendr inquired. The journalist in him had a talent for sniffing out people avoiding dodgy questions and it had just kicked into high gear. He could smell the dictator was trying to cover something up.
"There's two elderly people at another place, but you won't make it in time;" the dictator said vaguely, evading the question.
Dendr frowned. "We'll get to them too;" he said.
"Just rescue these eleven people;" the dictator spat, obviously annoyed at the cheeky answer. Then he remembered. "Please."
"Hang on." Dendr said, muting the connection. Then he turned it back on and rephrased; "Hang on, please."
Parappa turned to Dendr. "Get coordinates from him for both parties. I can plan the fastest route and find a safe landing zone to get them both out."
Moira nodded empathically, and Dendr turned back to get the coordinates from the dictator. After sending them on to Parappa's console, the radar screen blipped a warning. An object was approaching them from the north, its transponder code reading Walston One. It was moving dangerously fast through the ash plume, and Parappa could imagine visibility on that ship was zero.
A comm request beeped and when Dendr accepted the communication, a gravelly vargr voice spoke over the speakers. He had obviously been listening in on the earlier communications between Masterson and the High and Dry. "This is Walston One. Get the larger group, I'll go and get my parents."
The connection was terminated immediately after, and on the radar screen the blip continued at breakneck speed.
"We've got room in the air raft bay." Moira said. The previous crew had taken the air raft and left the bay empty. "If need be we pick up the entire gravcar with those people in it." She sighed. "I wonder if the dictator sent us to the group of eleven because the others are vargr."
She well remembered how minister Green had disregarded Parappa during their meeting, even referring to Parappa as 'that bwap'.
The smoking volcano in the distance had people running around in a panic between their hovels and cattle sheds. The small tremors had warned them something was going on with the volcano and when the first lava started flowing down the mountainside the panic had started. They were grabbing things hastily to take along. There was no rhyme or reason behind their packing. Supplies, blankets, their favourite pet and that one special quilt that was so dear to aunt Molly -- all were stowed in crates, duffels and even baskets. One of them shouted and pointed. In the distance they could see the gravtrain from Barvinn leaving, and they knew there would not be another one coming.
On the other side of their homesteads at the shore where the submarine had been, waves lapped at the shore, and as they turned to look for the submarine they could see the vessel was slowly sinking beneath the waves, leaving them behind. Several people were dumbstruck, staring at their last hope now disappearing beneath the waves. Children cried.
On the volcano side of the settlement there was a small scout ship descending, setting down near the cattle sheds. Its engines threw up a cloud of dust, making it harder to breathe. Under the nose of the ship a large section started moving and a ramp lowered down. Three men in breathing masks moved out of the ship down the ramp to greet the refugees and help them inside.
"Get on the ship." Hasta said by way of greeting in an authoritative voice commanding attention. "You're not the only people we need to save."
"No livestock." Qupar admonished, shooing a couple of sheep away from the ramp.
It took them all of five minutes to get the people on board and the ramp raised. Chunks of rock and boulders were raining down on the homesteads and around them. The clatter of rocks hitting the hull was deafening. As soon as Qupar called up the all-clear over the intercom, Moira took off. She was wrestling with the controls, trying to avoid some of the largest boulders. A wall of cloud seemed to come off the volcano, rolling down the mountainside and the surrounding pastures towards them. Where to go?
"Up and over." Moira said softly. "Space is up. Space is safe." She pulled back on the controls and the engines churned to gain altitude.
The comms panel warbled a distress call. Roaring winds buffeted the microphone in a way that sounded like a windshield had been broken. The whine of tortured lift units was unmistakable in the background.
"Mayday, mayday. This is Walston One. Windows are cracked. Drive is failing. Is anyone there?" the vargr voice they had earlier called out.
"Parappa, can you get me a vector?" Moira asked.
The small gravcar had already dropped off the radar, but its transponder beacon was still on, allowing Parappa to plot a course. "I can;" the bwap replied when he had it. "The projected crash site of the Walston One is two minutes away. The bad news is the pyroclastic flow is only two minutes further out." He blanched. "It will be a close call."
He keyed the ship's intercom to warn the people in the cargo bay to hold on, and to notify Myles, Hasta and Qupar for their next daring rescue. The video feed from outside showed it was pitch black out there; Moira was flying mostly on her instrument readouts. Data coming in from the seismic sensors spelled disaster in lava-coloured letters. The volcano wasn't slowing down its eruption, spewing ashes, rock and lava at the surrounding lands. The air was charged with electricity and lightning stabbed along the clouds and at the soil.
As the High and Dry approached the transponder signal, three flares shot up, giving an eerie light through the thick billowing smoke. The ramp was already moving down as soon as the ship had touched down, and the three jumped out. The wind whipped the ash into a frenzy so fast it was moving horizontally, and the gravcar was a dim shape. The refugees in the cargo bay were coughing loudly as the three men in their breathing masks went out to grab the three vargr to bring them on board. Qupar grabbed the elbow of one, Myles of the other, while Hasta urged the youngest of the three, who needed little encouragement to jump out and help the elderly vargr through the storm of ashes. Once inside, Qupar guided the elderly to seats, dislodging several spry humans that seemed fit enough to be holding on by themselves, and helped the vargr strap into the seat harnesses. He checked them quickly for wounds but as far as he could tell from their furry hides there were only superficial cuts and bruises from the crash or from the volcano's debris raining down.
Moira took the ship up again as soon as the cargo bay ramp had closed. She monitored the outside conditions and weighed their options. The dust cloud was rolling around them and going up high wouldn't stop it from engulfing the ship completely, meaning poor visibility and lots of turbulence. If they ran in front of the cloud to the sea the storm would still have caught up to them, and turning the ship nose-first into the cloud would have provided a slim chance the ship's aerodynamics would have dispersed the cloud around the ship.
It was a split-second decision, based on her experience as a pilot. She settled on a compromise between what seemed to be the best options, and steered the ship nose-first towards the cloud, but pulled up at the same time, hoping to rise above the onslaught. Her cargo, now sixteen humans, three vargr and a bwap, were counting on her to get the ship to safety.
"Hang on!" she shouted into the ship-wide comms.
As the winds buffeted the ship she tried to compensate, but there was little she could do to keep it a smooth ride. The volcano's violence caused massive turbulence that tossed the ship wildly. On the bridge they were safely strapped into harnesses in their seats, but the people in the cargo bay were worse off. There was little in the way of cargo to smash them against the bulkheads, but there wasn't much to hold on to either. The refugees screamed as the ship bucked and rolled, and everyone lost their footing. Hasta, Qupar and Myles were in the same predicament, and as the ship rolled, they were violently tossed about as the ship juked and vibrated with the hostile turbulence outside. There was no way to stop rolling with the ship until their bodies collided painfully with the bulkheads, floor, or other people. Hasta was too stubborn to stay down for long and Myles looked uncomfortable and apologetic as he tried to get off the farmer he had collided with. They were all bruised and bleeding, but Qupar didn't seem too badly affected. He rolled as much as the rest of them, but he shrugged it off easily, way more easily than he should have for a cop.
The nose of the High and Dry pointed up towards the sky that was roiling black clouds, lightning and ash. Ever higher Moira tried to coax the ship, trying to get away from the ground, the volcano, and the wild winds. Up, up and higher up the nose pointed.
The lights suddenly went off all at once. The hum of the engines had stopped completely but after a few seconds at least emergency lights clicked on and the screens flickered for a moment as main power cut out and backup power took over. Moira tried frantically to get the drive back on, but without power it was a futile effort. There was no way the emergency power would be sufficient to provide the engines with what they needed to maintain their lift.
"Myles! Get to the engine bay and reactivate the drive. I'll reboot main power." Moira spoke into the comms.
She was acutely aware of their trajectory flattening off because the engines were shut down and the wind would have free reign on the ship without the engines fighting it. As sleek as the scout ship looked when it was airborne, it was not an aeroplane. It wasn't capable of generating aerodynamic lift and it wouldn't be able to glide safely down to the planet surface. They needed to get power and the drive back up.
"Reboot the control systems;" she instructed Myles over the comms. Parappa tapped the flickering screens to his left to override the safety cut-outs. The computer obviously didn't enjoy people doing such strange things mid-flight but he insisted. He instructed the ship to ignore the safety warnings for now and spoke to Myles over ship's comms. "The manual override should work now."
Down in engineering Myles obviously did what was required, because Dendr was able to quickly reboot the control systems. The ship was still moving forward at high speed but its trajectory was erratic at best. A clunk from the engine room, a sputter, and the drive came back on. Moira immediately turned back to the flight controls. Their altitude had dropped significantly and the nose of the ship was no longer pointing up to the sky. It was spinning wildly in the harsh winds and ash cloud that surrounded them. Grinding her teeth together, Moira did the fastest thing she could to get the ship pointing the right way again. She twisted the ship, rolled hard, and levelled out parallel to the ground.
Curses, shouts and cries of pain drifted up from the cargo bay. People were probably not pleased with the almost military nonchalance that she had adopted to get the ship pointing the right way again, but that was a problem for another moment. They had power, they were going the right way, more or less, and Moira said softly; "Thank you for flying Pizza Express."
"Impact inevitable." the computer intoned impersonally.
They were flying the right way up again, but the manoeuvre had ended with them so close to sea level, it was clear they were going to hit the water. She wouldn't be able to pull up again in time, and there was only one thing to do.
"Brace for impact!" Moira shouted.
She managed to pull the nose of the High and Dry up just in time but the belly of the ship and the aft engines hit the water with a loud crash. Their combined power quickly enabled the ship to pull free from the water, climbing up again.
"Come in High and Dry. We lost you in the cloud, please come in." The voice of dictator Masterson demanded an update came from the comms deck.
"This is High and Dry. We are currently counting heads and sweeping up vomit." Dendr communicated. He was pale and seemed close to vomiting himself.
"How many on board?"
"Fourteen."
"Fourteen?" Masterson replied incredulously. "Marvellous news. That was my chauffeur, got it into his head to go off on his own."
Apparently the dictator had seen enough of their antics on his screens to know they picked up the vargr as well as the refugees. "Go to Medical Facilities in Central Lake and they'll take care of you there. What is the status of the refugees?"
"Wait a moment while I check with our chief medical officer." Dendr replied. He muted the connection to Masterson and checked in with Qupar, who was already back up and taking care of the refugees in the cargo bay.
"Lots of bruises, some broken bones." Qupar replied to Dendr's inquiry. Aside from being a little green in the face he didn't seem to be suffering himself, while the people around him were moaning, clutching bruised and broken limbs and noses.
Dendr returned to the comms panel, but had already forgotten what Qupar had told him. "Let's just get them a full medical checkup. The works. Can you arrange that?"
Masterson replied he would, and broke the connection.
"Is this guy allergic to sending us coordinates?" Moira muttered to Parappa. He checked the navigation and provided her with the necessary coordinates to Central Lake where no doubt those poor refugees would be very glad to be back on solid ground again.
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