1. Prologue

As CPO Ford drummed his fingers in a methodical repetitive rhythm against the desk. It has been roughly 3.5 weeks since the Vaadwaur had struck. The ship and its crew has been suprised by the assualt force that had emerged from underspace, right at the edge of the Canaposa system, just as the Blythe had been exiting the system and preparing to go to warp.

Several of the vaadwaur ships had opened fire on her and overwhelmed her shields almost immediately and in response the ships captain had flown the ship into a nearby asteroid cluster for cover. A lucky shot from one of the pursuing vessels had struck the ship on the port side, mid saucer and another had struck the starboard nacelle and caused a large explosion. A twist of fate had then seen the Vaadwaur pull away as the crippled vessel had careened deeper into the asteroid field, leaving them for dead and returning to their assigned targets throughout the system.

The ship was in a bad way, all of the decks of the saucer had hull breaches, the engineering section of the ship was nearly destroyed. The last few shots from the vaadwaur had caused nearly every ops conduit on the ships to overload or outright explode.

The real savior of the ship was the navigator at the time, who have somehow used the last component of the ship that had any power and that she had any control of, the emergency RCS thrusters, to avoid smashing into one of the large asteroids. Instead, it had somewhat gently crash landed in to a gully on the asteroid. Coming to rest crippled and powerless, but mostly intact aside from the starboard nacelle with had shattered off of it supporting strut

Without power, and with all decks vented or partially vented to space, several small pockets of survivors were stuck spread through the ship. Over the proceeding 3.5 weeks those pockets of survivors had be wittled down to just one. A group of 3 enlisted personnel who had by chance been in either the logistics office, or the attached logistics bay. The logistics chief Ed Ford, a hull technician PO Dalton Morris, and PO T’sen were all that remained of the nearly 200 members of the crew.

They had only been able to survive this long due to the fact that this particular section of the ship, on deck 5/6(the office and extrance to it and the logistics bay being on deck 6 but the bay itself being 2 decks tall) was positioned roughly in the centre of the ship. This allowed the emergency bulkhead doors to the office and bay to have enough time to seal themselves before the lucky shot that has blown the eps conduits.

And unlike any of the other disparate groups of survivors, their group had been able to survive due to the ships entire supply of emergency power cells and a large amount of emergency rations and gear. To stave of death at the hands of hypothermia, they had come up with an ingenious idea to utilize a few of their emergency power cells hooked up to a emergency transmitter sending out a distress signal on maximum intensity. This would serve both as a rescue beacon, and a makeshift heater. The down side was, they were down to their last 6 power cells which would keep the transmitter/heater operational for only another 4.5 days.

They had also been able to put together a jury rigged air purifier using a Medical Re-Ionizer, a few hydro spanners, and 4 self seeling stem bolts, which had provided them enough fresh air to stave off the effect of hypoxia…well, most of the effects anyway.

((Flashback, USS Blythe, Logistics Office))

T’sen: Please cease the finger tapping or I may be forced to nerve pinch you. With all due respect chief. *The vulcan said in a very deflated and monotone voice.*

Morris: *Snorted a chuckle at the remark as he indulged in yet another ‘Bolian Stew’ emergency ration. That particular variety had become his favorite over the past few weeks.* It is a bit annoying…

Ford: Annoying chief you mean.

Morris: Sure, whatever…we’ve been stuck here for weeks man, and were running low on power cells, and our air is going to be unbreathable un about 8 days anyway if we cant find a way to recharge the Re-ionizer, the only thing we have lots of is food *takes another spoonful of the spicy Bolian stew out of the packet*…we’re literally going to be dead in less then a week dude…. I mean Chief. *The last word he had said quite sarcastically.*

T’Sen: Well we may be able to extend that by a day or 2 by powering down the transmitter for short periods to save power.

Morris: *Shivering slightly since the transmitter/heater had only been able to maintain the temperature at a survivable yet uncomfortable 6 degrees Celsius.* Girl, that would turn off the heat too, wouldnt it? *Having a slight sense of panic to his voice.*

Ford: It would. But we do have our emergency blankets…we could power down the transmitter for an hour or 2 at a time as we huddle together underneath them.

T’Sen: *The Vulcan began wondering if she would be able to handle the smell under that blanket without losing here sanity.* I do not believe the temperature would lower enough to require us to huddle together for warmth chief…but in the extreme case, it is an option.

Ford: The range of the transmitter is over 6 light years, so if starfleet has been able to repel this attack from the Vaadwaur, some vessel should undoubtedly pick up our signal soon, we are right near several colonial shipping lanes…

T’sen: You have made that claim repeatedly in the last 3 weeks. I am beginning to ponder the notion that Starlfeet has not been successful.

Morris: The only thing we know for sure is that Canaposa colony is not receiving our distress call, because they’re only 70 AU away, and a rescue party hasn’t found us…*Thows his spoon at the wall in frustration.* THIS SUCKS! I dont wanna die here from starvation or freezing to death with you 2…I joined starfleet to be able to travel the stars and find new surfing beaches to thrash around, ya hear me. Dying like this would be a really cold groove kimosabi’s, a cold groove indeed…

Just then a group of 4 EV suit clad Starfleet officers rematerialized right infront of them after transporting over from the USS Sidi Al-Birani. The Al-Birani, had been on a rescue and resupply mission to an outlying colony in the aftermath of the Blackout, and after completing that mission on their return trip to Starbase 86, it had been passing within 4.8 light years of the Blythe’s cold resting place on that asteroid slowly circling the Oort cloud region of the Canaposa system when they had picked up the distress call and immediately altered course to respond.

((USS Sidi Al-Birani))

As the Al-Birani had gotten into range they had immediately spun up an away team to beam over and rescue the survivors. The ships Captain, a Caitian, had dispatched the away team while having the rest of his command staff prepare the ship to take the Blythe in tow. The Blythe had been reported missing after failing to report back to SB 86 on schedule over 20 days ago. The idea that 3 crew members were still alive on a somewhat perforated and powerless ship floating through the cold darkness of space on a large asteroid was remarkable to say the the least.

The Al-Barani, being an Ambassador(Refit) class vessel,  more then had the power to retrieve the Blythe, and tow her back to Starbase 86 with her tractor beams. And from the scans the Ops officer, a Vulcan, had conducted, he reported that the ship could likely be salvaged and repaired rather quickly.

((Back in the Blythe Logistics Office))

Morris: *Weeping, almost sobbing, and blubbering like an infant who had just been rescued from the middle of the ocean. He was tightly hugging one of the Al-Birani away team members. Clutching the man around his EV suit and kissing the duraplast face shield of the the helmet.* I love you man…thanks so much….I was starting think we were goners, about to that last plunge off a mammoth wave..oh….thank you, thank you…

Ford: *Rolls his eyes at the younger crewmans lack of decorum. Ford on the other hand, had maintained hope that they would certainly be rescued at some point. He was a confident man and was sure his life was not fated to end in the fashion Morris had obviously been so worried about.

NPC Redshirt: *one of the away team members, was busy helping T’sen up to her feet, as she had been seated on the floor in the corner of the room.* Aye, yer all safe now. Ah here lemme help you up lass. Now let’s get you all back to civilization and git ye all warmed back oop.

NPC Away Team Leader: *Taps his comm badge.* Anduros to Al Birani, 7 to beam up directly to sickbay.

NPC Transporter: Acknowledged, prepare for transport. Energizing.

EPILOGUE

And with that, the 3 Bottom Deckers had been rescued. The return trip to Starbase 86 had taken only 3 days. After drydocking the ship, the Engineers aboard the station had assessed that they could repair the vessel and have here ready to return to active service in 2 to 3 weeks, as they just so happened to have a spare Cali class nacelle in storage onboard. The 3 bottom Deckers were sent on shoreleave and told they would remain assigned to Blythe, and should report back to the ship when the repairs were competed.

FIN