Tellek snaps out of his boredom-induced trance. He puts his ear to the sealed doors. "Can you find out what's going on out there?", he asks Gast.
Tellek draws his sidearm.
Tellek:
You catch a glimpse of something fast zipping by one of the common room's windows - an Imperial aerospace fighter!
Bharek allows Elan a moment to get his bearings and move fully into the shaft before entering it himself and stepping up the corner onto the 'wall'. He quietly acknowledged each incoming report and once the initial survey was complete he engaged his own comm. "Team secure in shaft CZ-17. Activating force field." He knelt and let the black metal egg click magnetically to the wall by it's slightly wider end. After double checking the series of etching indication field orientation he activated the bit of spellware eliciting a brief crackle of static from the communication gear before the transponders compensated. The small indicator light on the top of the device blinked yellow three times and then shifted to a steady ice blue. "Alright, we have full seal. Nonetheless, suits stay on until the interior atmosphere is verified and analyzed." Bharek craned his neck back slightly for a full view of the others, all maglocked at a perpendicular angle to him. "Larimore, you may disengage the vacuum locks and enter the ship proper. Hull integrity has been confirmed for all areas immediately adjoining this shaft between the A97 service hatch and Deck 8. Proceed at your discretion." Bharek exhaled a long, slow breath. The odds were high that the interior of this ship was going to be a grim sight. He could only hope that this would go smoothly so that they could return to the Negotiator as soon as possible.
Sejah was last out of the shuttle, cinching the straps of her weapon harness tight over her torso. She stepped past Bharek as he activated the small, egg-shaped device and sealed the chamber against external space, her face hard and all-business behind the clear, flexible plasteel mask. The rebreather system quietly chuffed as she looked over the small team. Looking down the shaft-turned-corridor, she listened to the others check in, then nodded. There was no need to confirm what they could all already see - the place was safe.
Her arm reached to the small of her back and, with a heavy, mechanical clack, freed her plasma rifle from it's webbing. With short, efficient moves, she primed the minicell and her face and upper body were illuminated with the soft blue glow of the digital battery readout. In any other conditions there would have been an audible chirp as the powercell tested up to full power. Here, the first sound she made was the communicator's quiet pop as she transmitted, "Ready. Let's go."
She heard Bharek's command for Larimore to open the door, and trained the rifle at a point just ahead of the tech-priest, moving along the outside wall of the shaft from the doors they moved toward, covering him at every step.
Brother Larimore turned to watch Bharek speak for a moment. A silent nod of recognition was made with a slow lowering of his protective helmet. His eyes slowly turned to watch Sejah for a moment, a small wry smile formed over his lips as if to thank her for the coverage. Pulling the blaster rifle off of his own back, he gripped it in his right arm and glanced it over as he stopped before their entry point.
"Larimore at the entry..." He said over the comm as his shoulder jerked up and down quickly, followed by the distinct racking sound and whirring energy sound that came with racking a blaster rifle. Reaching out, he disengaged the vaccuum locks and went in first, eyes scanning. "...entering the deck now. May the Forge-God guide us."
The doors hedged for a moment and the interior lighting on Tellek and Gast's side of the door dimmed and crackled as the vacuum seals disengaged, drawing heavily on the somewhat moderate reserve batteries remaining in this particular shell-section of the ship.
Larimore was buffeted on his feet by the powerful outpouring of atmosphere into the sealed elevator shaft. The rest of the team felt the blast as well, though everyone was sealed down to the decking by magnetic boot-locks.
Tellek was not so well prepared, nor the gnome. Gast shrieked and dropped his improvised laser weapon, grabbing onto a torn bulkhead and screaming in his tiny, scratchy voice. Tellek had quicker reflexes and grabbed onto the doorframe. He swung in the zero-gravity wind like a pennant for a few seconds, until the air pressure regulated itself.
Faintly, down near the bottom of the elevator shaft, the black spellware egg made a quiet 'beep.'
Elan winced and braced against the outpouring of atmosphere from the sealed chamber until the pressure had equalized. He looked ahead to where the others had gathered near the door and made his way closer.
Once he neared the doorway, he looked at the two occupants with an expression of amazement. "Are either of you injured?"
Tellek clings to the doorframe, thinking So this is how I go. Suffocated by the bloody salvage crew. Then the wind stops. Tellek kicks a bloated body back away from the door where the sudden gust blew it. He steadies himself, shouting into the shaft. "Who are you? Answer! Quickly! I am in a terrible mood and will not hesitate to open fire."
The team's suits suddenly flared up a display in the corner, reading an 'air quality deficiency', though it was rated as a "low" threat. Further, a small warning indicator appeared, noting the substantial loss of atmospheric density due to the pressure equalization. The air was still rated as 'breathable.'
Larimore:
Elan:
"Elan, away from that door!" Rakti hissed, crossing with one massive, thudding step toward the shadow between the open doorway and the wall of the shaft, where she could see the doorway but could not be seen. Clutching a fistful of metal in her hand, her gaze sought Lieutenant Jorgenson and she raised one questioning eyebrow, showing him the grenade and awaiting orders.
Bharek made a subtle palm-down gesture to Rakti, staying her action, but not waving her off completely. He cleared his throat while still comms off, then keyed his external vox, his voice strong and calm, "Stand down, citizen. We are a House Osorus authorized ISPD expeditionary force investigating the attack on this ship. We are here to rescue any survivors we discover..." Bharek paused and raised an eyebrow, "And neutralize any threats. Please consider which of those two you'd rather be classified as."
"Alright. I'm lowering my weapon. I'm going to come out, slowly. I would like to see some identification." His voice pauses. "And I don't want to see any weapons pointed at me. Does that sound fair?"
Bharek, himself still unarmed, reveals his ISPD holoID, and says, "We are sanctioned government agents, we are not here to bargain. If we'd wanted you dead, we'd have shot by now. I advise that you set your weapon down and thank the Twelve that we are here at all." Bharek had been making a quick scan of the room, but his eyes finally locked onto Grundy's, "Set the weapon down and we can get along to the business of rescuing you."
Tellek nods at the ID. He slides the magazine out of his sidearm, trying to make it clear he is unloading the weapon. Since setting it down would be fruitless in zero-G, he gives it a gentle push toward Bharek. He holsters the gun itself.
Ex:
Every sound echoes loudly in the empty elevator shaft as the mercenary disengages the clip from his weapon. With a bump, it lazily floats through the air toward Bharek.
Behind Tellek, the gnome slowly raises both hands. Clad in workman's overalls and with makeshift wiring going up from a battery pack to his tiny jury-rigged laser pistol, he looks almost comical, childlike.
"I'm..." he stutters nervously, staring at the ISPD credentials. "I'm... g-going to... t-t-turn off m-my l-...laser now..." And so he does, slowly unhooking the battery pack from his belt and removing a the pair of wires. A light on the hand-held pistol goes out and a faint sound chirps through the room like a holovid set being turned off.
Gast carefully lets the pistol go, bumping it away toward the ceiling.
Bharek:
Only after the two newcomers have disarmed themselves does Rakti slide her grenade safely away into her suit. As the Lieutenant provides identification, she steps forward with a few clodding steps and scrutinizes the human and gnome from just behind Bharek's shoulder, looking for signs of other weapons hidden on their persons.
Only after the two newcomers have disarmed themselves does Rakti slide her grenade safely away into her suit. As the Lieutenant provides identification, she steps forward with a few clodding steps and scrutinizes the human and gnome from just behind Bharek's shoulder, looking for signs of other weapons hidden on their persons.
"There's still a round in that gun," Rakti grates out flatly, liquid gold eyes narrowing at the weapon holstered on the human's waist. It sounds as though the few words she's uttered are about all her vocal cords can take. "And his knife, sir?" she adds, with a glance at the Lieutenant.
"If he's an intelligent man he'll realize that his only way alive off of this ship is with us. That, and taking any of us hostage is a worthless endeavor being that no one in their right mind would send in a first crew that wasn't on some level expendable..." Larimore replies, watching Tellek with a small dark shrug as his eyes turn to Rakti. Still holding his blaster rifle, he starts to look around and then starts heading towards the corpses. Still with one hand on his blaster rifle, he starts to observe the dead with his free left hand. Perhaps in shock to many, the cleric takes not one single motion to bless their dead bodies, but starts to inspect them for identification, access badges, and any usable equipment.
"The only two questions I have for these people are these. One. How did you survive this area where all of these others did not? Two. What is or was your purpose on this ship and do you have any access badges or detailed information about damage to the ship that could be of use?" Larimore says flatly, again with that gravelly voice tempered through a lifetime on a desert world. Smiling softly, he motions to the rest of his group.
"Feel free to direct any response in their direction..." Larimore nods in Bharek's direction before turning his right arm (bearing the blaster) away from the two survivors as he pokes through the bodies. "...I have work to do."
"There's still a round in that gun,"
"I prefer to keep my options open.", Tellek replies. "I suppose I don't have much choice if you want that one, too."
"If he's an intelligent man he'll realize that his only way alive off of this ship is with us. That, and taking any of us hostage is a worthless endeavor being that no one in their right mind...<snip>... The only two questions I have for these people are these. One. How did you survive this area where all of these others did not? Two. What is or was your purpose on this ship and do you have any access badges or detailed information about damage to the ship that could be of use?"
"Very astute. I just want to get out of here, preferably to a place with a real toilet, a shower, and hot food. In that order." Tellek indicates the bundle of empty food wrappers affixed to the wall with a short length of wire. "Strictly speaking, I didn't survive in this part of the ship. I was sealed in a corridor and managed to get here through the vents. They were all dead when I got here. Gast, well..how did you get lucky, Gast?"
Tellek continues, "I was a passenger...of sorts. I was hired on as a mercenary. A sharpshooter. I wasn't given access to anything."
"Be careful with those bodies. They're getting ripe. I can't really smell them anymore, myself, but judging by how little I can smell or taste at this point, they must be pretty bad."
"Gast, well..how did you get lucky, Gast?"
The gnome scowled and looked embarassed. Even his hair, matted with oil and grime, seemed to wilt. "I was braced against the wall by my anti-grav belt," he said lamely. "Got shaken around a bit, but didn't... didn't hit anything."
Tellek continues, "I was a passenger...of sorts. I was hired on as a mercenary. A sharpshooter. I wasn't given access to anything."
"You're one of the mercenaries headed to Kirinth, then. Good. Your mission is still in place - you'll be accompanying us pending your security clearance aboard the Negotiator, and Lieutenant Jorgenson's approval."
"Be careful with those bodies. They're getting ripe. I can't really smell them anymore, myself, but judging by how little I can smell or taste at this point, they must be pretty bad."
"The air is starting to reflect a concentration of pathogens on our monitors, but it isn't too bad. Your ship's crew must have been thorough with their bioscans before you were let on. The environment is surprisingly sterile."
Sejah delivered these statements congenially enough, considering she was still staring down the length of her gently blue-glowing plasma rifle at Tellek, sharp-eyed and disciplined.
"You're one of the mercenaries headed to Kirinth, then. Good. Your mission is still in place - you'll be accompanying us pending your security clearance aboard the Negotiator, and Lieutenant Jorgenson's approval."
"Oh. Good." Everyone loves the ISPD. "And will you point that gun somewhere else? I'd prefer to not get turned into a cloud of glowing vapor just because your finger itched."
"Oh. Good." Everyone loves the ISPD. "And will you point that gun somewhere else? I'd prefer to not get turned into a cloud of glowing vapor just because your finger itched."
"If I meant to vaporize you, I would, merc," she said disdainfully. "As I recall, you haven't completely complied with the order to disarm yourself."
"She does have a point...." Larimore stated as he stopped to look at Tellek and Gast. Tilting his head a little, still inside of his suit's helm regardless of the breathable atmo, his eyes fall on the gun in Tellek's hands.
"...but I'm more interested in why your first instinct was to draw a gun to defend yourself, Sharpshooter. Especially when it's the ship's breaking that killed all of these crewmembers." Larimore said, turning back to the bodies, looking for wounds or damage on the carcasses that didn't fit. Seeking bulletwounds and slashes, he finished his statement. "Tell us what you know of the attack?"
"If you don't intend to kill me, then there's no reason to point a gun at me, then, is there?"
"If you don't intend to kill me, then there's no reason to point a gun at me, then, is there?"
Sejah shrugs at this. "I never said I didn't. You're being evasive and refusing to completely cooperate with lawful authority."
Tellek glares at Sejah. He, slowly, draws his gun and grips the slide, pulling it back until the bullet pops out the back of the gun. He holds the slug up, then flicks it out into the elevator shaft. "Happy?" He slides the gun back into it's holster.
Tellek glares at Sejah. He, slowly, draws his gun and grips the slide, pulling it back until the bullet pops out the back of the gun. He holds the slug up, then flicks it out into the elevator shaft. "Happy?" He slides the gun back into it's holster.
"Now you're going to have to go get it. We can't have loose ordinance risking being exposed to open electrical."
Larimore turned to the others after inspecting the bodies and pulled out his datapad, looking to see if a map of the corridors was inside.
A small smirk formed at the side of Larimore's face.
"A joke. No need to chase it. But do be careful of debris. There's no telling whether or not we have exposed hazards, but I lean towards the notion that we do." He added, finally turning back to the bodies, speaking quietly over them.
"Greatest Ironborne, the father of the forge, the smith and the anvil. Gratitude to this creation of your will for protecting your crew from a cold death in the void. May their souls be ushered to the grey lands of the beyond, and may your machinations deliver them to whichever gods they serve. I, your servant, request you guide me further to do thy bidding. Integer vitae scelerisque purus." He motioned as he spoke over the bodies and splashed a small drop of holy water on the deck before them.
*clip* He motioned as he spoke over the bodies and splashed a small drop of holy water on the deck before them.
The water spreads out of Brother Larimore's hands like jelly, wobbling down toward the deck with the force of his push in the zero-gravity. The impact turns it into a thousand jiggling bubbles that disseminate amongst the floating dead.
Tellek glares at Sejah. He, slowly, draws his gun and grips the slide, pulling it back until the bullet pops out the back of the gun. He holds the slug up, then flicks it out into the elevator shaft. "Happy?" He slides the gun back into it's holster.
Sejah turns to regard Bharek, letting the violent end of her plasma rifle fall to point at the ground in front of her. The action occurs with a slowness that she was clearly not entirely comfortable with in the low gravity. Her thumb works a catch near the forward grip of the weapon and a low, descending hum fills the air as it powers down.
"Orders, sir?" she asks.
Elan presses himself against the inside wall of the shaft, unclear as to exactly what he is supposed to be doing out here and becoming increasingly ill-at-ease in the zero gravity.
"Orders, sir?"
Bharek calmly watches the exchange between his team members and the castaways, his face still impassive. "We commence the investigation. Larimore, once you have finished your rites, please see if you can access the ship's computers and extract any information about the attack. Rakti, I'd like you to take a survey of the immediate area and see how much of the ship we can gain access to from here. Double check against the schematics, make sure you're not missing any back doors. And keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. Sejah, I want you to take a standard SOLAR refugee debriefing for these two; appended as you see fit to suit the circumstances. Elan, unless you have anything else to offer, I'd like you to supplement Sejah's interview by asking follow-up questions. Listen with an open mind and question assumptions. I want you all to be as quick and thorough as possible. Keep the comm chatter to a minimum but report in if something seems significant. Questions?" Bharek searches the faces of those assembled as he raises his hand to catch the clip slowly spinning in his direction.
Elan meekly raises his hand in response to Bharek. "Can we take these helmets off yet?"
"Orders, sir?""....Rakti, I'd like you to take a survey of the immediate area and see how much of the ship we can gain access to from here. Double check against the schematics, make sure you're not missing any back doors. And keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary...."
Glancing down the shaft at the Lieutenant, Rakti grunts, "Sir," and before he has even finished speaking to the others, begins to move off away from the group with strange bounding, clodding steps in the low gravity. Moving through the doorway past the two newcomers---sparing a sideways glance to be sure their hands remain where she can see them---she draws the ISPD datareader she'd been given earlier, bringing up the pertinent information and reviewing it briefly as she moves. Intending to follow the perimeter, and making no effort at all to avoid any gruesome bodies drifting about, she systematically inventories the various entrances and exits.
Elan meekly raises his hand in response to Bharek. "Can we take these helmets off yet?"
"If you wish, Elan, but we're going to have to suit back up eventually. And breathing the ambient air in here is not apt to be a...pleasant experience."
Rakti:
The ventilator you can access has the faint, rhythmic whoosh of a fan slowly turning somewhere in it's depths, and you can feel air moving within it. This is presumably the shaft that the mercenary spoke of crawling down.
"If you wish, Elan, but we're going to have to suit back up eventually. And breathing the ambient air in here is not apt to be a...pleasant experience."
Sejah settles her stance and drops the hot-death end of her plasma rifle to point at the floor, finally, turning to Tellek. "Are there any spare vac-suits on this level? We could just evacuate you back to the transport and take care of the interviews there."
The sudden shift in treatment was striking. Gone was the aggressive impassiveness of a moment before, replaced with what one expected to see out of a Paladin of SOLAR - compassion - in the blink of an eye.
"If you wish, Elan, but we're going to have to suit back up eventually. And breathing the ambient air in here is not apt to be a...pleasant experience."
Elan's eyes wandered over to the floating corpses and his features went slack. This was a most unnatural place of death indeed, and there was wisdom in the lieutenant's words. He was not alien to the stench of death and decay but this place... this suit... nothing was natural. Only metal, vacuum, and death. The druid shook his head. "You're right, lieutenant... by your leave, if I'm no longer needed here, may I return to the transport?"
Bharek seems about to deny Sejah's request when Elan speaks up. He scowls from behind his faceplate, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Fine, but go quickly. We will want their information while we are still on the ship. There are extra vac suits in the transport if need be." He turns to the two survivors, "I'm sure you're ready to be off this wreck anyway."
Bharek seems about to deny Sejah's request when Elan speaks up. He scowls from behind his faceplate, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Fine, but go quickly. We will want their information while we are still on the ship. There are extra vac suits in the transport if need be." He turns to the two survivors, "I'm sure you're ready to be off this wreck anyway."
Sejah slings her plasma rifle across the webbing on her back again and heads off as quickly as one can in zero gravity, back down the elevator shaft toward the transport.
A momentary gust of air, barely half a second long, indicated her egress.
"I'm sure you're ready to be off this wreck anyway."
"You have that right. There aren't any environment suits around here, either, so I suppose we'll need the ones in the transport."
"Only two ways out, sir," Rakti reports, giving a vent cover a light kick. "Elevators or these two air vents... wait no, one air vent; other's sealed," she amends, bending over and squinting into the accessible vent. "Hmm, fan's still turning in this one." She makes her way back toward the others.
Having finished his quick rite for the dead, Larimore turns to the rest of the group and grabbed a small roll of tools off of the side of his backpack. The heavy looking warhammer strapped to it doesn't sway one inch, tied down securely.
"I will..." Larimore said with a simple nod as he started to look around the room. Ignoring their conversation for the most part, he pulls a pry-bar from the roll of tools and begins to look for an accessible computer in the area that they are in. "...if there's any damage to the hard drives or the wiring I can repair, but I am not a cryptographer. Do we have sufficient access cards or codes?"
Larimore paused to look at them all for a moment before turning back to his search.
"Bharek...do you know if this vessel contained some sort of personnel locator system?"
"Bharek...do you know if this vessel contained some sort of personnel locator system?"
"It... it did," the gnome piped up in his slightly nasal voice. "The main computer core isn't connected, though. None of the terminals worked." He gestured for emphasis at a ripped open section of the wall with hastily sawn off outlets and ripped away cord piping, then at a computer terminal and monitor that lay in the corner, open in the back and clearly gutted for parts to make the gnome's crude laser.