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Cole isn't sure exactly how to go about getting the corridor pressurized, but he knows that it needs to at least be sealed up in order to do so. He slowly makes his way back towards the airlocks, helping Sia shut doors and hatches, whilst also looking for any less-than-obvious holes or breaches that could cause a problem.
__________________ "There's a beast in every man, and it stirs when you put a sword in his hand."
Lei takes a look at the ships schematics, and compares them to the damage she can observe from the outside. You're going to need to close off the whole lower port side of the crew compartment, there isn't a single bulkhead I trust there. The cargo hold should be locked down already, but I have no way of knowing if the emergency systems actually activated. Same thing with the bridge.
"Prince Rurik, this is Independent gunship Angel On My Shoulder. What's your status? Over."
Captain Wilkins leans over Jack's shoulder to speak in to the comm panel. The only answer, however, is a hiss of static. Wilkins frowns for a moment, then nods to himself.
"Take her in, Oregon. We'll take a closer look. I know Rurik; she's one of ours, alright, and has a damn good captain at that. If she's in trouble, it's something bad,"
"Yes, sir,"
Jack fires up the engine and begins coasting in; but even as he does so, he feels a twinge of doubt. Rurik looks like she's been in a heavy firefight; but where's her opponent?
Jack Buck's command deck, here and now
With Morgan's help, the command deck's doors are pushed open; as it typical in these models, the bridge has the heaviest and best airlock, along with the engine. Whatever happens to the rest of the ship, if the pilot's alive and the engine's active there's a chance that someone will survive.
The cockpit's a mess, though. A litter of damaged consoles and ransacked personal belongings. Someone has clearly been through and taken everything they can get; either that, or they were looking for something in particular.
A few keystrokes on the battered console, though, has the old tramp freighter sputtering in to fitful life. Unfortunately, it's running - barely - on the reserve, which provides only the dullest of glows from the lights; barely enough to accentuate the darkness, much less dispel it.
A second set of keystrokes causes Jack to swear under his breath.
"Cole, Sia, Lei. We have power, but only the reserve. The joo fuen chse who attacked the ship have taken everything; support batteries, air tanks, everything. We're going to need Tap over here to try and get the engine back online; try and get primary life support back, though I doubt there'll be much of the system left intact.
Lei, you're right about the lower port side; whole thing's riddled with holes. I'll try and patch you in to the reports, if I can get comms going.
Morgan, you want to head back to the Panda, and play escort for Tap? I'll stay here and see what else I can coax out of Buck,"
Morgan nods to the captain, and takes his assault rifle off his shoulder, sitting it on the console next to Jack before turning to go back to the cargo bay.
The soldier wasn't sure what to make of the captain. He also wasn't sure of what the captain made of him. He hadn't mentioned his origins to the captain when he enlisted, and his current situation within the Cortex left the captain few ways to find out. The captain was clearly not a fan of the Alliance, that much was clear.
But if he didn't think Morgan was an Alliance soldier, where did the captain think the soldier came from?
Morgan's mind played over the possibilities as he knocked heavily on the airlock door back to the Panda.
__________________
Spoiler
Thanks to Terry for my irate Nightmare Alchemist Avatar!
Greg
Bridge
I'll go help Tap with his vacsuit. We sendin' a spare o'er, Cap, or y'all still tryin' ta find one from Buck? Come t'think a it, how many a these things've we got?
__________________ My Homebrew
Currently DMing: Heroes on a Sea of Swords - IC - OOC - OOC II
Thanks to Arokh for all the wonderful avatars! May his computer never crash and his mouse arm never cramp!
Last edited by Shadow_Elf : 10-24-2012 at 06:45 PM.
Stirling held the vacsuit uneasily, his eyes darting over its features. Such an unassuming thing. A plastic-y material, some tubes, a few gadgets... and it was supposed to protect you from the Cold Without End? Yeah, right. He shook his head.
'M'am, I've got the vacsuit. And I'll be right here, waitin' for someone to take it off mah hands. But, uhh, I ain't inclined to do a delivery run, if you catch mah meaning. I like mah liquids liquid, and mah solids defrosted. Sorry, but you don't pay ol' Shooter enough to risk that kind of noise. Or, uhh, lack thereof. There's no sound in space, is there? I don't think there is.'
And then Stirling heard the gentle rapping on the airlock door.
God dammit.
After checking that the other side was pressurized in every conceivable way, Shooter finally - and reluctantly - opened it.
__________________ The secret of being a bore is to tell everything.
"Copy that, Jack. Shutting as much of the non-essential areas off as we can. Let's just hope this lodun panshee will hold with only part of her atmo'd up. Don't particularly wanna be on her if she decides to up and pop like a party balloon."
Cole continues to shut off any door that isn't absolutely necessary to getting someone from the crew quarters to the airlock. Since the Captain was saying the Buck had already been ransacked, there was little reason to look for salvage.
__________________ "There's a beast in every man, and it stirs when you put a sword in his hand."
As soon as she is let through, Sia pulls off her helmet. Walking over to the comm panel, she punches in Jack's frequency.
"Jack, it's Sia. If its as bad as you say, I may need help rushing the survivor to the medbay. I also probably also won't have time to pull my suit off for emergency treatment. I'm staying aboard the Panda. If she holds enough atmo for me to go back, I will. Otherwise you may need to double time it here so I can treat him."
Sia begins stripping her suit off, then heads to the medbay.
__________________
Co-Founding Member of LUTAS For all the less than useful superheroes out there.
Hugs and cake are available upon request. And when available.
Tap nodded to Morgan & went over to his suit. It was distinguishable from the others by two main things. One, it was by far larger than any other suit there, but also, the right arm was noticeably missing.
Tap had once tried to use a standard suit, but after one particularly hairy incident of his arm puncturing the suit, tap began altering a suit and his arm to create a seal at his shoulder.
"Time to play miracle worker eh?" he said to Morgan through the short range com.
When she hears that there might still be someone alive, Grace thankfully closes her eyes for a moment before refocusing on the outer sensors. Then she has an idea. "Say, Niū*", she addresses Lei, "Maybe now tha' the Cap'n - no, not you, hon", she interrupts herself, smiling, when Cap'n Rogue decides to jump onto the console in front of her, flopping down on the sensor readings she was watching.
Grace swoops the cat up in an affectionate embrace, setting her onto her lap and expertly cuddling her there. Then she continues, always keeping her eyes to her screens: "Now that the Cap'n has established some power over there, ya think ya could go an' try ter hack the comm system? Let whoever's still there know we're comin'? Poor mite's probab'ly sittin' in there with a gun trained on the door..."
She grins impishly, her lined face turning into a mask of mischief. "If ya can, that is - seems mighty hard from where I'm sittin'..."
Spoiler
* Little Girl
__________________
~*~
"I wanted to see the universe,
so I stole a Time Lord
and I ran away..."
Well, wouldn't you know, that's just what I've been doing. Lei opens a channel into Buck's internal comm, and patches in the rest of the crew. Attention Buck, this is Alpha Panda. We found your ship derelict. We are attempting to render assistance. If you give us a few minutes, we should have the corridor repressurized. Medical assistance is standing by.
Cole smiled as he heard Lei's voice through his commlink, speaking to the Buck. It meant that she got through, and that there might be some truth to his hunch about what he felt through that door. He quickly made his way back to the cabin and waited outside the door to see if the rest of the crew could figure out the pressurization issue.
"Positioned right outside the door. Waiting on atmo."
__________________ "There's a beast in every man, and it stirs when you put a sword in his hand."
Adrian looks for the button to the comlink in his room. There should be one... somewhere... if he just had paid attention when he was first shown the room... "Or this could be a trap..." Adrian suddenly thinks out loud
The airlocks kissed together softly, and there's barely any resistance to a remote airlock override by Prince Rurik. She's still not responding to hails, although the distress beacon is back at full strength.
Jack settles back at his console, his eyes glued on to the monitors, searching for any signs of approaching Alliance boats. Down below, Captain Wilkins leads the boarding party through the opposing airlock.
A disregarded monitor in the airlock shows what happens next; Wilkins suddenly motions a halt with a raised hand, and kneels to examine a book-sized object clamped to a wall. He makes an urgent gesture to the other boarders, ordering them away. But it's far, far too late as the squadkiller detonates in spectacular fashion.
Strategically placed charges throughout Rurik detonate at the same time, tearing away Angel On My Shoulder's hold, airlocks and half the crew quarters; Angel is ripped almost in two. There are a scant handful of survivors; the mechanic and her assistant sealed away in the the engine room in the first instant of the blast, and Jack and his navigator in the locked down command deck.
Jack Buck's bridge, here and now
Visions of carnage float across Jack's eyes. Back during the war, the Alliance would capture Independent ships, fire up the distress beacon and leave proximity charges throughout the ship for anyone who responded to the distress call. Couldn't someone else have taken the tactic? Could this be another trap?
Jack begins to sweat inside his suit.
"I read you, Doc. Stay put and we'll bring any survivors to you. Cole, back away from the door. I ain't a fan of this set up. Lei, hold tight 'til Tap's had a look around. Pretty sure she'll hold under pressure, but I'm not in a gambling mood,"
The ritual is familiar. Calming. Wash, wash wash. Apron on and tied. Mask in place. Gloves come on with a snap. Her bag lays on the counter, opened for access to the drugs and medicines inside. Her implements are on a tray, ready to roll over to the bed. Everything was ready.
All she needs now is a patient.
__________________
Co-Founding Member of LUTAS For all the less than useful superheroes out there.
Hugs and cake are available upon request. And when available.
Morgan raises an eyebrow to Tap as if to say 'Do you expect me to say something?'. The soldier shrugs and steps into the airlock, removing his pistol from his belt.
__________________
Spoiler
Thanks to Terry for my irate Nightmare Alchemist Avatar!
Finally finding the com control, Adrian replies: "Alpha Panda, this is Adrian Starr. Please respond with information on the following before proceeding:
One, what is the status of the crew of the Buck?
Second, what is the oxygen status of the Buck?
And most important, are you engaging us in warfare, or are you to be considered friendly?"
你好明星！Lets see, you're the only person we've found, living or dead, so I'd simply say the rest are just gone. Buck is in a bad way. Everything of value's been stripped away. The reserve atmo tanks are gone, so we're trying to repressurize the corridor straight from our ship. As for that last question, I consider myself friendly, so, I'd say we're friendly, but there might be some people that aren't friendly with us, so it all depends on your point of view. Anyways, we don't mean you any harm, so you can look at us as friends.
"This is grievous." Adrian says to himself before pressing the coms button again so the others can hear him: "I understand. In that case, what are your future intentions?"
"Now ain't he a fussy one", Grace murmurs to herself, slightly smiling, as she scratches the Captain behind the ears, her eyes still glued to her screens.
__________________
~*~
"I wanted to see the universe,
so I stole a Time Lord
and I ran away..."
Greg
Bridge
Ain't this fella ever heard not t'look a gift horse in the mouth? S'not like anythin' we could possibly have planned would be worse'n runnin' outta atmo. He gives Lei a sheepish grin. I'm of half a mind t'remind him that if we wanted him dead, we'd just pop open 'is compartment an' let the Black do its work, but I suppose that wouldn't be the politest way a' reassurin' him a' our good intentions...
__________________ My Homebrew
Currently DMing: Heroes on a Sea of Swords - IC - OOC - OOC II
Thanks to Arokh for all the wonderful avatars! May his computer never crash and his mouse arm never cramp!
Cole stood just away from the door in question, leaning against the wall and waiting. His shotgun rested against the same wall, just beside him within arm's reach. He listened to the chatter, clenching his jaw with the thought of him not being able to lend a hand. I wish I wasn't such a doh bao knucklehead when it come to machines. I shoulda paid more attention when Daddy was working on that grav tractor, he thought to himself as he stared off into nothingness.
__________________ "There's a beast in every man, and it stirs when you put a sword in his hand."
"Ok, everyone who isn't suited up,please evacuate the the area from Alpha Panda's airlock to the corridor where we located the surivor. I'll be opening the airlock and beginning pressurization in one minute. Please double check that all doors are closed and sealed. After waiting the allotted time and confirming that everyone is in the appropriate spot, Let opens Alpha Panda's airlock, allowing a clear path from the ship to the Starr's cabin. She then routes a reserve atmo tank into the airlock, and begins pressurizing the the corridor. As soon as the pressure reaches a safe level, she opens a comm channel into both the crew's suits and Buck. "Ok, we're good to go. Pressure is safe, and loss rate is within acceptable parameters. You can open the door."
Cole grabs his shotgun with one hand and moves to open the door with his other. However, because of the initial depressurization of the corridor causing the door to buckle, the damn thing refuses to budge. Without much of a second thought, the soldier rears back and rams his left shoulder into the metal door... hard.
"Ho mein chi lao minzhao jing whin zho zuoa!"
Cole drops his shotgun and lowers himself to one knee, closing his eyes against the pain while he gripped his left upper arm. Gingerly, he stands himself back up and rotates his arm as much as he can in his vacuum suit.
"The gorram bow to this door is still keepin' her from openin', Cap. I think we're gonna need a cuttin' torch in here."
Spoiler
Translation:Expletive deleted.
__________________ "There's a beast in every man, and it stirs when you put a sword in his hand."
Morgan walks up into the crew quarters, just in time to see Cole crumple against the solid door. The soldier steps between the two foes, and shrugs, giving the door a swift kick to see if Cole loosened it at all.
__________________
Spoiler
Thanks to Terry for my irate Nightmare Alchemist Avatar!
One of the things about vacuum suits is that they prevent you from beating your head against the pilot's station until the world starts working right.
"Tap, forget the engine for now and head up to the crew quarters with your tool kit. Morgan, track down and shoot the ri shao gou shi bing that built this piece of luh suh.
"Lei, do we have time to cut through the door, or will she break up first?"
Shooter sighed. Then he began whistling 'The Girl From Santam', and felt better immediately. Feeling a bit useless wasn't easy, and the familiar tune took his mind off the surprises the day had sprung on the crew, if only for a moment. While he stood there, in the crew corridor, he absent mindedly began practicing his quick draw.
Snatching his pistol from its holster, then twirling it around his finger, before slotting it back; the ritualistic time wasting could swallow up hours at a time.
Deep down, all Stirling wanted was someone to shoot.
__________________ The secret of being a bore is to tell everything.
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