Bova--
By Lokaia
Notes:: Gee, I just remembered why I hate Round Robins...
------
"We're all going to die."
I don't care what anyone else tells you, that is *not* my catchphrase. Ms. Davenport says it more than I do. Just because I believe it...
But *come on*. Can you honestly blame me? I mean, we've stranded ourselves on a ship *seven years* from home, been attacked by *Spung*, crash-landed onto some unidentified planet, put our commander in *traction*...
I could go on.
You know I could.
But at this particular moment, I sort of forget that we're all going to die.
I'm standing in this dome, this dome that defies every principle of physics, logic, and basic *architecture* just by existing. It's huge and green and lush and beautiful, and I've never seen anything like it.
That's why it's not much of a surprise when we try to leave and almost go deaf.
I leapt backwards, bumping into at least two of my crewmates before finally escaping the high-pitched whine. Breathing heavily, I found myself lying on the ground, along with almost everyone else. Glancing around at each other, my crewmates attempted to approach the door again.
Because, you know, if it tries to kill us once it wouldn't *possibly* try again.
Idiots.
Once they've all come back to the safe-edge of the dome with me, we all had more time to think. I voiced what they were all thinking. Seems to be my main job on the Christa.
"We're trapped," I informed them.
"Like animals," Cat added in a whisper.
I thought about that for a minute. "Well, not necessarily *animals*. We're kind of trapped in general."
"Bova." Commander Goddard had that tone that said he was currently experiencing a splitting headache. Like it was my fault the Christa had changed the direction of the jump tubes. My fault the ship was heading towards a solar flare. My fault we couldn't escape our little dome-prison.
"Thelma, what--what is this place?" Rosie's voice penetrated my thoughts and I glanced back at Thelma. The android was currently occupying herself by sticking her arm as far out the field of the dome as she could before her head was exposed (i.e., deafness).
Thelma smiled at Rosie in that incredibly vapid, just-in-case-you-thought-I- was-thinking-something-you're-wrong expression of hers. It's a Thelma TM expression.
"It is a dome, Rosie."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"What does it *do*, Thelma?" Goddard asked, speaking slowly. Why doesn't anyone else get it? Thelma *understands* us. We just need to be more specific.
For instance, instead of "Thelma, where is Bova?" where you will promptly get the answer of "On the Christa", you should ask, "Thelma, where on the Christa is Bova?" and she will answer "Bova is in the galley".
...That reminds me. I'm so hungry. It's been an hour since lunch. We're going to starve down here.
"The dome provides recreation for the Christa's crew, Commander," Thelma replies, smiling.
Harlan, who had been exploring the dome, rejoined our little group, frowning. "Why haven't you told us about this before?"
Are you ready? Say it with the android, folks...
"Because you did not ask."
Congratulations. You win the "You've Paid Attention for the Last Three Years" award.
"Why can't we leave it?" Cat asks with a hint of fear in her tone.
By "hint" I mean "ton" and by "fear" I mean "bone-shattering terror".
But really, can you blame her?
"The Christa needs to protect her crew," Thelma was saying. "The solar flare's radiation would severely harm you if you were in the jumptubes, so the Christa is keeping you here."
Everyone seemed incredibly relieved. And, not that I like my job here, but aren't I the voice of realism?
"Thelma? How long is she planning on keeping us here?"
"Until the danger is gone," the android replies.
"How long is that going to be?" The Commander's tone is skeptical, meaning he's just caught on to what I figured out ten minutes ago.
Thelma smiles, of course. "I do not know, Commander. The Christa has severed all links to the dome. They must be reconnected before we are able to leave."
"Well, how do we reconnect them?" Cat asks excitedly. It's the whole engineering genius thing at work. She's always excited when anything electrical happens.
You'd think it'd be me, but I guess when you're your own generator, electricity gets boring after a while.
Thelma cocks her head at the Saturnian, processing her question. "To reconnect the links, you must go to the control room."
"The control room," Ms. Davenport repeats. "And where exactly is the control room?"
Thelma turned and pointed.
The others gasped and groaned.
The android's hand pointed very obviously to the doorway beyond the dome.
Cue my trademark.
"I knew it."
By Lokaia
Notes:: Gee, I just remembered why I hate Round Robins...
------
"We're all going to die."
I don't care what anyone else tells you, that is *not* my catchphrase. Ms. Davenport says it more than I do. Just because I believe it...
But *come on*. Can you honestly blame me? I mean, we've stranded ourselves on a ship *seven years* from home, been attacked by *Spung*, crash-landed onto some unidentified planet, put our commander in *traction*...
I could go on.
You know I could.
But at this particular moment, I sort of forget that we're all going to die.
I'm standing in this dome, this dome that defies every principle of physics, logic, and basic *architecture* just by existing. It's huge and green and lush and beautiful, and I've never seen anything like it.
That's why it's not much of a surprise when we try to leave and almost go deaf.
I leapt backwards, bumping into at least two of my crewmates before finally escaping the high-pitched whine. Breathing heavily, I found myself lying on the ground, along with almost everyone else. Glancing around at each other, my crewmates attempted to approach the door again.
Because, you know, if it tries to kill us once it wouldn't *possibly* try again.
Idiots.
Once they've all come back to the safe-edge of the dome with me, we all had more time to think. I voiced what they were all thinking. Seems to be my main job on the Christa.
"We're trapped," I informed them.
"Like animals," Cat added in a whisper.
I thought about that for a minute. "Well, not necessarily *animals*. We're kind of trapped in general."
"Bova." Commander Goddard had that tone that said he was currently experiencing a splitting headache. Like it was my fault the Christa had changed the direction of the jump tubes. My fault the ship was heading towards a solar flare. My fault we couldn't escape our little dome-prison.
"Thelma, what--what is this place?" Rosie's voice penetrated my thoughts and I glanced back at Thelma. The android was currently occupying herself by sticking her arm as far out the field of the dome as she could before her head was exposed (i.e., deafness).
Thelma smiled at Rosie in that incredibly vapid, just-in-case-you-thought-I- was-thinking-something-you're-wrong expression of hers. It's a Thelma TM expression.
"It is a dome, Rosie."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"What does it *do*, Thelma?" Goddard asked, speaking slowly. Why doesn't anyone else get it? Thelma *understands* us. We just need to be more specific.
For instance, instead of "Thelma, where is Bova?" where you will promptly get the answer of "On the Christa", you should ask, "Thelma, where on the Christa is Bova?" and she will answer "Bova is in the galley".
...That reminds me. I'm so hungry. It's been an hour since lunch. We're going to starve down here.
"The dome provides recreation for the Christa's crew, Commander," Thelma replies, smiling.
Harlan, who had been exploring the dome, rejoined our little group, frowning. "Why haven't you told us about this before?"
Are you ready? Say it with the android, folks...
"Because you did not ask."
Congratulations. You win the "You've Paid Attention for the Last Three Years" award.
"Why can't we leave it?" Cat asks with a hint of fear in her tone.
By "hint" I mean "ton" and by "fear" I mean "bone-shattering terror".
But really, can you blame her?
"The Christa needs to protect her crew," Thelma was saying. "The solar flare's radiation would severely harm you if you were in the jumptubes, so the Christa is keeping you here."
Everyone seemed incredibly relieved. And, not that I like my job here, but aren't I the voice of realism?
"Thelma? How long is she planning on keeping us here?"
"Until the danger is gone," the android replies.
"How long is that going to be?" The Commander's tone is skeptical, meaning he's just caught on to what I figured out ten minutes ago.
Thelma smiles, of course. "I do not know, Commander. The Christa has severed all links to the dome. They must be reconnected before we are able to leave."
"Well, how do we reconnect them?" Cat asks excitedly. It's the whole engineering genius thing at work. She's always excited when anything electrical happens.
You'd think it'd be me, but I guess when you're your own generator, electricity gets boring after a while.
Thelma cocks her head at the Saturnian, processing her question. "To reconnect the links, you must go to the control room."
"The control room," Ms. Davenport repeats. "And where exactly is the control room?"
Thelma turned and pointed.
The others gasped and groaned.
The android's hand pointed very obviously to the doorway beyond the dome.
Cue my trademark.
"I knew it."