The Mnemosyne Crew (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mnemosynecrew) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
themnemosyne2025-02-10 11:31 am
mnemosynecrew) wrote in themnemosyne2025-02-10 11:31 am
Entry tags:
Mini-Event
EVENT
It happens in the dead of night - so sudden, so absolute, that for a moment, it feels like the ship itself has ceased to exist. The familiar hum of the Mnemosyne's systems vanishes, replaced by an unnatural, suffocating silence. A heartbeat later, the darkness takes hold. Total blackout.
Then, as if the ship itself is gasping for breath, emergency lights flare to life, flooding the halls in deep red. A shrill hiss follows as every interior door slide open in unison.
The system has gone dark. Terminals are dead. CL-10's have no access. Anything reliant on the ship's core network is unresponsive. Even elevators between decks are frozen in place, leaving only the cold, metal emergency ladders as a means of traversal. Synthesizers refuse to function.
And most critically -
L3TH3 is gone.
Not silent. Not unresponsive. Offline.
Yet, despite the eerie stillness, some things persist. Life support remains operational, oxygen still cycles, temperature remains stable. Airlocks are firmly shut. The engines continue their course, thrumming faintly beneath the floors. Even power still technically exists, but there is no intelligence behind it any more. The Mnemosyne is still moving - but without a pilot, without a shield and without defense.
To some, the fact that the ship's quarantine protocols also remain intact is a reassuring sign of system redundancy. To others, it is an opportunity lost. After all, a coup - or mercy killing - requires more than emergency rations and dim red lights.
Welcome to this month's mini-event! The system being offline will continue for a week, until the 17th. As the mod will also be unavailable at a computer during this time, direct any questions to mnemonsynecrew@gmail.com for a quicker reply.
As noted in the event, CL-10s won't be able to access the system for anything (work, ship data, etc.) during this time, but it can still be used to communicate between crew and used for personal data.
Then, as if the ship itself is gasping for breath, emergency lights flare to life, flooding the halls in deep red. A shrill hiss follows as every interior door slide open in unison.
The system has gone dark. Terminals are dead. CL-10's have no access. Anything reliant on the ship's core network is unresponsive. Even elevators between decks are frozen in place, leaving only the cold, metal emergency ladders as a means of traversal. Synthesizers refuse to function.
And most critically -
L3TH3 is gone.
Not silent. Not unresponsive. Offline.
Yet, despite the eerie stillness, some things persist. Life support remains operational, oxygen still cycles, temperature remains stable. Airlocks are firmly shut. The engines continue their course, thrumming faintly beneath the floors. Even power still technically exists, but there is no intelligence behind it any more. The Mnemosyne is still moving - but without a pilot, without a shield and without defense.
To some, the fact that the ship's quarantine protocols also remain intact is a reassuring sign of system redundancy. To others, it is an opportunity lost. After all, a coup - or mercy killing - requires more than emergency rations and dim red lights.
Welcome to this month's mini-event! The system being offline will continue for a week, until the 17th. As the mod will also be unavailable at a computer during this time, direct any questions to mnemonsynecrew@gmail.com for a quicker reply.
As noted in the event, CL-10s won't be able to access the system for anything (work, ship data, etc.) during this time, but it can still be used to communicate between crew and used for personal data.
no subject
B deck. Shield generator.
[ That wasn't where he was going originally, but Rin doesn't need to know that... and he does want to put eyes on the generator, to see if there's any problems there.
Checking in on Saverem, and any other crew who might be in their quarters, will have to wait. ]
If that's okay with you, boss.
no subject
If either of them was more inclined to talk then Rin could communicate that they'd made a sweep of the crew quarters, having been startled awake by the ship's systems dying - they could note that they hadn't seen any messages from Engineering, which might just be a bad sign.
No, instead, they say;]
I'll check secondary controls. Are your comms working? [Check your CL-10 Wolfwood.]
no subject
If he knew that Saverem hadn't reported in, this whole trip woul go much differently. But instead, he just keeps heading down into the ship, turning away from the crew quarters and instead moving toward the shield generator. ]
It's working.
[ He doesn't need to check it -- he used it earlier. ]
no subject
[Fucking asshole.
Rin pauses on the ladder, just long enough to catch a last glimpse Wolfwood's retreating form - not monitoring where he's going, but because they need to try another ping on L3TH3. Still nothing.
They're going to run into Wolfwood before this is over, certainly - as all of them try and figure out what the hell to do to restore the ship. But for now, there's still checks to run, to ensure that something isn't about to blow them up, or leave them all breathing vacuum. ]
OPE_N_Wolfwood to SCI_R_0
🖕