Only two consoles were operational on the derelict’s bridge: the pilot’s station, and one that seemed to be meant for communications.
Using the frothing, liquid metal interface below the holo-screen, one could mentally control the derelict’s engines; fire, retract, or jettison any of the ship’s twenty-six anchor cables; operate the dark matter-based FTL travel system; or command several sensory and navigational suites. Despite its age and wear, it all made Flyby and Breakswitch’s stations on Salvation’s bridge look rather primitive.
The communications’ station was simple- in function, at least, if not in design. It controlled shipwide communications and intercepted incoming transmissions, along with directing outbound messages.
Much of the total terrorcon population was now adrift in space, menacing the heretic fleet as well as Salvation’s crew. Actaeon’s plan had lightened our heroes’ burden in more ways than one.
One of the four remaining anchor cables latched onto Salvation rips out of her hull, lashing against the derelict’s as its launch mechanism shatters. The impact sends a deep crack running down the width of the derelict, producing a groaning sound that could be heard on its bridge.
Now three cables remained. Error messages flash over their icons as they fail to retract.
“Well that’s just great. No way in Primus I’m even going to try to move this thing anywhere while we’re still attached to the Salvation. Worse still this ship seems ready to tear itself apart at any moment. The other three cables must be removed manually. But how in the pit are we supposed to do that!!!”
Arachnados struggled to restrain himself. Every fiber of his being was screaming out to strangle the life out of this simpleton, but that would accomplish nothing. So instead he simply said in a pained and sarcastic tone:
“Clearly your definition of ‘worked’ is far different than mine.”
“One of them has been removed yes, but this ship has suffered extreme external damage as a result. Not to mention the other three cables don’t seem to function at all. So while we’ve made some level of progress towards our goal, I would by no means classify our current situation as ‘good’. In fact I’d say it’s quite the opposite.”
“If the ship is moving towards the star while intact then yes. Escape should be trivial. But if it’s falling apart around us, then getting out is much more dificult.”
He pointed to the wholes in the cockpit that were leaving durectly into the outher space, not knowing that they are shielded.
Song left the engine room, looking for any threat. @Chromeharpoon
Delta pointed her blaster to Roadkill’s forehead.
“For the love of Primus! I saved you, and if you don’t repeat everything you said, slowly this time so that I can actually understand, I’ll blast your face off!” @TheOnlyGuyWhoLikesMistika
Engineering was no longer under siege; in fact, Bludgeon’s forces were beginning to retreat, if reports coming in over the comms were to be believed. Boarding parties were making their way back to hangar bays and insertion craft to flee Salvation.
“How about we try to find the tractor beam systems and disable that first?” Zepar suggested, “then the Salvation will be able to fling the derelict off into the star.”
SProcket sat against the far wall, his severed arm nearby. Fortunately, though, Zepar’s gauntlet had sealed the bleeding stump on his person, so he was in no immediate danger. In his left hand, he holds the Omega Map.
Grommet stood guard with Epsilon, his cannons deployed. Shockwave leaned against a console, having sustained many injuries in defending the science wing.