Joram McAndrie |
Joram was feeling pretty squicked out after they peeled the corpse out of the suit. Nevertheless, he gamely jumped in to help. He stared in fascination at the tattoos, even as he listened to the woman explain about the suit.
Not knowing much about either the ship or the tattoos, the engineer concentrated, instead, on things that he could do well. With a sharp nod to the others he slowly levered himself off the floor and made his way to the inner airlock door.
Once again his fingers flicked over the keypad, hoping that maybe this time he'd have more luck.
Aaaaaaand, we're back! :)
Kn: Computer Systems: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
GM Fiendish |
Joram is sure the pressure door leads further in to the ship, and at a swift press of the door control, you hear internal locks disengage from the solid door, and it slides upwards in to the ceiling, revealing the dull grey metal of a ship's corridor beyond.
Immediately in front of you on the floor, is another cryo-pod, the lights on it flickering. It appears to have fallen from the cargo hook dangling from the ceiling rail.
The door to the north is a closed security door, typical for cargo haulers where there is no requirement to access the cargo during travel and it can be locked down. The door and its panel appear to be without power.
The door to the east is labelled 'CARGO BAY 2' and the panel is active, but locked. Security systems check if you wish to bypass
To the south, the corridor stretches away in to the darkness, there is no emergency lighting, and your surroundings are lit only by the dim glow of the cargo bay door control panels.
GM Fiendish |
The pod is hung up on the rail embedded in the ceiling. Used to move cargo from one place on the ship to another, it requires power to use, which appears to be off, so the cryopod is going nowhere.
The door panel opposite seems to be ignoring Thursdays override commands, evidently the firmware has been upgraded since the last time she tried to bypass this particular model.
The cryopod continues to flicker, less frequently now, it is becoming obvious the power is about to fail completely.
GM Fiendish |
Smashing the canopy would likely be instantly fatal as the pod's delicate interior was compromised and many carefully calibrated chemical levels would be upset.
Cord and Syrus are aware that one could initiate a 'quick wake' cycle which could bring the occupant back quickly, however it could also be dangerous to them.
GM Fiendish |
Sirus quickly runs through the sequence to initiate a quick thaw, and the cryopod hums to life as the display becomes very active, scrolling through hundreds of lines of code and commands as the complicated wake cycle is cycled through.
There is the distant sound of metal repeatedly knocking on metal, somewhere distant to the south of where you are, away in the darkness.
Just then the power on the pod in the corridor flickers as if about to fail, but then finally beeps readiness, the lid cracking open to release a whiff of chemicals and revealing another person, alive and moving groggily. Coughing and spluttering, a male figure of average build rolls out of the pod, landing on all fours and breathing heavily. There is froth around his mouth.
Ak... gak...
he mutters, shaking his head vigorously.
GM Fiendish |
With no idea what might be wrong with him, he's hauled to his feet by Thursday and Cord. His body is wracked with tension, his head snaps forward and the sclera of his eyes are bleeding, rivulets of blood trailing down his face.
He roars...
...then lashes out at Cord with a jagged piece of the cryopod's shattered canopy...
makeshift knife: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
slashing: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
...he is clearly past reasoning with...
Thursday is not surprised so gets a standard action. Then we're in to initiative, and you all get actions before the opponent...
Thursday Smith |
Thursday reacts a shade too quickly, throwing a flat punch at the man's solar plexus that glances off his ribs to no effect.
Cripes! Good thing my MA instructor didn't see that...
Martial Arts (20/x2)
HIT: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 + 2 = 8 flanking
DAM: 1d3 ⇒ 1
GM Fiendish |
The man ignores Sirus' words, but is caught up in the technician's grasp.
CordBot wades in and delivers a punch to the man's stomach.
punch: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 + 2 = 12 A hit as AC drops due to him being grappled
damage: 1d3 ⇒ 3
The man grunts and growls like an animal, struggling in Sirus' grip, eventually trying to stab the man with the makeshift knife.
knife: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
slashing: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Players up!
GM Fiendish |
The man thrashes like a fish on a hook, but Sirus' vice tight grip holds him in place.
His AC is effectively 8 at present...
CordBot attempts to knock the man out to stop him hurting anyone else, swinging the magnaWrench against the man's jaw
punch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
bludgeoning: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
...unfortunately the man's chaotic movements make it difficult to land a blow.
Thursday to act
Sirus Mechanicus |
Sirus lays the man over on the floor and looks at his own gash. Get a grip, boy. This is going to be a story you tell your grandchildren one day. He grumbles. Just keep it closed like you're doing and we'll get ourselves patched up soon enough.
Thursday Smith |
Thursday slides out of the top half of her cryo-suit and uses the shard of canopy to cut a sleeve off. She shimmies back into the suit and uses the sleeve to bind Cord's wound, tying it off as best as she can. "That should hold you until we find a med-kit."
GM Fiendish |
It doesn't take a doctor to see that the man is out for the count, likely for some time. His chest rises and falls irregularly.
Thursday's makeshift bandages stop the bleeding, but the wounds themselves need attention from a medbay or medkit.
A glance over his cryopod confirms it is in the same state as yours, now powerless and with the small cargo unit removed in a manner sure to have voided the warranty.
The control panel of the other cargo bay opposite still faintly illuminates the corridor, and the corridor itself stretches off in to the darkness.
GM Fiendish |
GM Fiendish |
The only way open now appears to be the corridor leading south...
You venture forward, the darkness omnipresent and almost smothering. Through the gloom, you just manage to make out bits of debris scattered around the floor, and ducting hanging down from the ceiling, liquids pooling on the sides. The ship seems poorly maintained, or has just been through a significant firefight, perhaps both.
After a few dozens meters, you see the glow of three door control panels. Their dim light barely illuminates the pressure door and two smaller side doors at east and west. The smaller doors are access ways barely large enough to squeeze through, and are marked 'power distribution 3' and 'power distribution 4'. The large door is marked 'botanical'.
It's not unusual for larger ships to have a section with plants in, both for a change of pace during long flights and for the additional oxygen they supply as this makes it easier on the CO2 scrubbers.
The access doors are in lock mode, botanical is unlocked.
GM Fiendish |
Cord pulls up the access logs for all three terminals, but finds them blank. There's no fault with his skills, it's just that the link back to the core computer, where all the info is stored, is unavailable.
He does recall that the panels still hold local memory of approve/deny lists, so they can authenticate and grant access even during a power event. He scrutinises the access matrix and sees that Botanical is free access, and the power distribution doors require engineer level access, usually granted by either biometrics or a keycard.
GM Fiendish |
Clara is aware that on larger ships there is a need for multiple power distribution hubs to control the energy usage of various systems. You'd expect a hauler like this one to have 6 to 8, so by the numbers, that puts you about halfway along the central spine of the ship.
Thursday has no luck with the locked doors, she'll need an ePick before she cen make a progress tracker.As the door control to botanical is thumbed, bright white light stings your eyes as the door slides up in to the roof cavity. Inside there is a large hexagonal room with trough upon trough of shrubs and other leafy plants standing up.
You are aware that this room will have several under and over sub-levels to house the room's environment controls. There will be water reservoirs under the floor and a sophisticated air circulation system.
There is a door at the back marked 'ENGINE ROOM', a small office pod sits hunched against one wall (nothing more than a lean to with a chair and a dead, powerless screen). There is a body propped up in the office chair, with a handheld terminal clutched in its death grip. The handheld terminal is blinking between 'run again' and 'clear'.
GM Fiendish |
Cord moves over to the boot, and sees that a man dressed in dirty fatigues seems to have collapsed across one of the plant troughs, he lies amid the twisted cover of vines and bushes. Cord spots a heavy pistol, and a belt with two spare clips of ammunition, a radio and a flashlight.
Sirus moves over to the Engine Room door, thumbing the lock and the readout changes to 'Environmental override: Run again or clear?'
The door is not locked per se, but it does require input before it will open.
Cord Mackenzie |
Cord removes and checks and secures the weapon first. He then checks the man for wounds or other signs of wounds. He then checks the clips, puts on the belt, and checks the flashlight. Finally he thumbs the radio, first listening and then trying the different channels. May Day. May Day. Come in? Is there anybody out there? Finally, if the gun is in working order he will chamber a round.
GM Fiendish |
Hi Thursday, no worries, thanks for checking in :)
Sirus hears nothing beyond the door, he's absolutely sure nothing is moving.
The override on the lock seems to involve an environmental setting in this room rather than the one beyond.
Cord looks over the pistol and finds it badly maintained but serviceable. +2 to hit in addition to your standard BAB, the pistol does 1d8+1 damage. There are 10 rounds apiece in each spare clip, and 6 left in the pistol itself. It seems the 4 missing went in to the corpse in the small office pod.
The radio hisses static and electronic bleeps as it tries to tune in. It locks on to a frequency with a squeal and you hear the dull repeating sound of an emergency beacon channel, the ship is broadcasting an emergency SOS. Continuing past the beacon it stops on a channel identified as 'Celadon'
Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttttttt....Hayes, come in Hayes...zzzzz...nyone?.. there is a bout of coughing over the speaker before it broadcasts again
...launch in...*squawk* min...zzzzzzzzzzzzt...Lambert?...derico?..
It falls silent.