The ship was adrift and would be that way for several more hours. They'd not expected the solar flare to be that intense, and their ship's engine was still unconscious, despite the work trying to restore it. The onboard AI, too, was badly frazzled. Thank goodness for the shielding that had kept the ship from being fried, but that was WAY too close.
To calm frayed nerves, and to cheer up those who were getting upset at the fact they were going to be stuck for a while until the tow ship showed up, the humans aboard ship got together and taught their friends how to do a story-go-round. One person would start a story, the next person would continue it, building on the first, and then the next person after that would continue the story from the first two, until the very last person who got to tell the end of the story. Needless to say, by the time the tow-ship got there, there were no frayed nerves, but a lot of people laughing. -- Anon Guest
A little bit of solder, unheeded, slipped from an overheating circuit that had been put in the wrong place. For want of the solder, the circuit failed. Alas, it was the circuit that controlled the electromagnetic shielding from aberrant solar events. For want of the circuit, the shielding failed. When the shielding failed, all of the more sensitive electronic equipment had a conniption and more or less fell over. For want of the shielding, the ship was lost...
Well. Not lost. They knew exactly where they were. They were adrift and still headed on the last course they had set before getting hit broadside with a load of hyperactive solar plasma.
In brief: sewerage creek, sans paddle, and possibly in a barbed-wire boat.
They had ample air and food supplies, because shipboard plants serve multiple functions. They had a reserve emergency beacon that was routinely stored inside its own Faraday cage. What they did not have was any other entertainment than whatever the flakk the Humans were up to.
"...and Parable turns to Thennilow. Stares him square in the eye, and says, 'What the flying flakk, my dude?' and smacks him on the chops." Human Roi mimed swatting at the air. There was no combat, no fighting amongst the Humans, they were just... telling parts of a story.
The observers knew some of the names. These were Humans and they played one of their virtual combat games together. Those names were 'player characters'. For instance, Roi played a demon-modeled character named Parable.
Human Gerd, who had had the last turn and messed everything up, laughed. This was, of course, friendly interplay between Deathworlders. What else could you expect from a species that keeps showing its teeth as a friendly gesture?
The 'talking stick' - a play microphone - went to the next Human in the initiative roll. Human Jan, who sighed as he took it. "Why do I have to keep being you guys' Primary Parental?"
The rest of the Humans chorused, "You chose to be the Group Mom Healer archetype..." much to the amusement of both spectators and group.
Human Jan said, "I'm casting Calm Emotion on everybody. Damnit. The plan was so simple. Get into the Big Bad's vault, retrieve the thing, and get out without setting off any alarms."
"Says Mx Heavy Armour," mocked Human Lo. "Clank clank clank clank clank..."
It was just as much chaos - and therefore just as enjoyable - as their regular game with so much more in the way of visual aids. And rules.
The game of pass-the-story went around and around. Something to do whilst waiting for a tow.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Garry518]
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