Deep Space Expedition (Munchkin&J_"Kraken")

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  1. TEAM-107
    A RP Designed by Munchkin and J_"Kraken"


    It is the year 3027 and the human race has branched out across the galaxy. Countries have turned into Sectors. Many if not all Sectors own land on planets and own several space stations across the galaxy. Like many countries, Sectors use tax money to try and broaden human's scientific knowledge.

    Many Sectors have sent out research stations across the galaxy to research explore and discover new and amazing things. Each Sector has their own "Guide to the Galaxy" type of encyclopedia as well, that is accessible to anyone who is a citizen of that Sector. Information from these encyclopedias is discovered and written by the members of the research stations.

    Every research station has several teams within it, giving it the ability to branch out as much as possible. Smaller, but still large daughter ships housing the individual teams leave the research station. Information is sent to the research station, which is then sent back to the Sector.

    Every research team has one or more of the following:
    Military Personnel

    12:00 midnight
    Research Level
    Technology Lab

    Small machinery whirred as soft jazz music played. One of The Ink Spots most famous songs, Maybe was playing fuzzily in the background. A petite, black-haired girl sat at a glass desk, which doubled as a touch screen, all sorts of small contraptions half built around her. She was currently bare-foot, and wearing a pear of black yoga pants, and a baggy black shirt. Her thin, clever fingers were wrapped around a screw driver as she was taking apart a cat-sized broken bot.

    The robot was boxy, the front had a small scope-like camera on it for observing, and two claw-like arms for reaching and grabbing, as well as two sets of wheels for moving. The back contained a compressed chamber, that when given the correct code would open up like a filing cabinet to reveal several rows of vials—empty or full depending on what the bot had found. The side of the bot had several slots for audio and visual chips.

    This particular bot had been crushed, but by what, the petite tech girl had yet to find out. She squinted down at the thing, a few screws held firmly between her mouth as she began to take apart her own creation piece by piece, “Motherfucker had no mercy on you, did he?” she mumbled through the screws, taking off the lid and revealing the inside, which was black and crumpled. Whatever samples had been collected had been destroyed. But the digital data could possibly be intact, but it would have to be removed manually.

    There was a soft, fluid sounding alert that came from the glass surface of the desk, and with a swift tap of her finger, the girl had the voice message opened, “Eveline,” it was a female voice, “I’m going to need whatever you can salvage from the bot. We’ll take whatever the bot collected here in the Chem Lab, and if there are any organisms, they can go to the Bio Lab. Let us know what you find.”

    Eveline, who was in fact the small petite girl sitting at the desk rolled her eyes. She used her pinky to hit reply, dropping the screws out of her mouth so she could talk, “Jack shit for either of you. Insides are completely destroyed. Might have some video and imagery, though. I’ll see what I can do here,” and she sent it. She knew the others wouldn’t be too happy. She had been blamed several times for her machinery being insufficient for its duties. But traveling around the galaxy and finding out what kind of conditions there were was really process of elimination. Having bots destroyed was partially helpful, Eveline thought, because she knew what those bots couldn’t handle.

    Eveline let out a sigh of relief as she used a pair of thin tweezers to extract the video chip from the hard drive of the bot. It looked in tact. She blew off some dust and dirt, turning it over under her desk lamp-light. She rose to her feet, walking to a blank wall, used for displaying images. She pushed the chip into a thin slot in the wall and stood back, waiting. She sat down at her desk, the image of the loading screen showing up both on the surface of her glass desk and the smooth, glossy wall a few yards from her. A video began to play, and Eveline leaned back in her seat, one knee up to her chest as she watched intently, using some touch-controls on her desk to work with the exposure and lighting to attempt to get a clearest picture of what was happening.

    The video was 15 hours long. It was going to be a long night.

    "Might as well kick back and brew some coffee."

    Research Level
    Biology Lab

    “Nothing?” Beatrice asked, and sighed, sitting down at one of the wide, long glass tables.

    “Nothing,” confirmed a voice on the other line. Beatrice was currently in a conversation with someone from the Chem lab. A bot had been found crushed, which was a good thing and a bad thing. The good thing meant that there was evidence of activity. Something must have crushed it. But the bad thing was that all of the substances inside were destroyed. All samples and cultures of water and other fluids were now unusable. Beatrice leaned her palms against the glass table, looking down and sighing.

    The whole room was rather large. Much larger than the technology department, but slightly with a smilier design. White, clean and crisp walls, glass tables, with a minimalistic, modern style to it. The Biology lab also held more researchers. There were around 10 biology researchers, and as for the Technology lab, there were mainly only two. One being Eveline, who worked with small bots and cameras, the other being the mechanic and engineer, working with larger machinery. Beatrice was more acquainted with Eveline than the other, whose name she didn’t even remember.

    “Eveline…” she murmured, rubbing her forehead. Beatrice hoped Eveline would at least be able to find something in the video files. The bot had been transferred from the Technology lab to the Chemistry lab. Although there were no samples collected, they could run some tests on whatever was on the bot, to see if they could find any information. The tests were currently underway, and Beatrice would receive it next, and then it would be discarded along with the others.

    Beatrice tucked a bit of hair behind one of her ears. Her hair was long, and flowey, but it was currently pulled back into a loose bun. Beatrice was a looker, but at the moment she was like a pretty, wilted flower. Her eyes were slightly pink around the edges from dryness and lack of sleep. Her white lab coat hung loosely around her thin frame. Eveline’s recovered bot wasn’t the only project the biology lab was working on. She’d been up for a while, and needed sleep. She looked at the clock and sighed, looking at a few of the other lab workers. She could do work, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it effectively in this state. It had been at least 48 hours since she slept. Sure, she had a few power naps, but those could only keep you going for so long.

    “I’m going to call it a night,” she said to the others, who nodded idly, partially buried in their own projects. Beatrice exited the Biology lab, heading down towards the elevator and pressing a few buttons and was sent on her way to the Housing Level. She sleepily shrugged out of her lab coat, letting it rest over her forearm. She looked at the clock in the elevator. Checking time. It was a nervous habit of hers. She had time for about 6 solid hours of sleep, and then she would send a message to Eveline to see what she had found, if she had indeed found anything.

    The elevator doors fluidly slid open and she walked down the hall towards her personal sleeping quarters. Being awake this long was hard on her body, and hard on her sleeping pattern. She could get so tired that she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t even believe that was a real thing until she came on this ship. This job was even more taxing than medical school and that was saying something.

    Beatrice typed her pin number into the small touch screen by the white door of her dormitory. The door slid open and she stepped inside. Luckily, she didn’t have a roommate. Each team member was given the opportunity to have their own room. Beatrice hung her lab coat over a chair. Her dorm was basically a loft-like room, but smaller. There was a separate room, but that was the bathroom. Everything else was in the same, square space. It was small, but not cramped if one person had it to themselves.

    Beatrice would need a shot of whiskey before she went to bed.
  4. Research Level
    Corridors 1A-3B
    "No one's ever told you that cynicism is most unbecoming of you?" O'Riley mused into the comms unit, her voice using the best attempt at fake-class as she could muster. ​

    "Oh, they've mentioned it once or twice." Anthon returned in his droll tone, placing his weapon around the corner of a hallway intersection: nothing. ​

    The weapon's direct link between his HUD and the camera flickered once before the night vision faded and motion trackers turned on. Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Again, nothing. Just to be sure, he flicked the safety off his weapon and cautiously took a step around the corner, shoulder braced to the left should something leap out at him. Nothing did. His arm adjusted the aim on his rifle to the classic breach-and-clear style they'd drilled into him when he joined the corps. There was no light in the hallway but for the dull flickering of a near-dead light fixture overhead. ​

    "Contact report." He muttered into his comms unit, barely above a whisper. ​

    O'Riley replied with 'nothing' and Anthon let out a brief sigh of relief; he'd been paranoid for nothing. He'd be damned if anything was on board this ship except for burned out bots, oxygen starved crew, and the rest of the team. Out of the sixteen breaches he'd been through, none of them had contained anything more exciting then a group of local militia. That had been an easy clear: most of them didn't even know how to reload their weapon without jamming it. The idea that this would be any different seemed ridiculous as he crept through the corridor one foot at a time. ​

    "So, tell me why we're here, sir." O'Riley broke the radio silence. ​

    "It's the job you-" ​

    He was cut off. "You could have any unit you wanted and you picked us. Moreover, you picked us three specifically." ​

    Anthon paused, considering the best way to word the response underneath the flickering light. "There was no reason. They gave me a pick of so many planets, and I picked your planet. Sappers are always needed on this type of mission. All of your track records were better than those before you, so I took from second company." ​

    "Right when I was thinking you were entirely a bastard." She responded; the click of her motion tracker could be heard over the silence on her end. ​

    "I'm heading back to the landing unit to wake up the other two. Time we swap watches." Anthon finally admitted, realizing the dull ache in the back of his head and the burning in his eyes. ​

    O'Riley confirmed that and Anthon began his long way back to their landing site. With any luck, Drake and Meson would be up and ready upon their arrival. Something about this ship was unsettling to him, though he couldn't place a finger on why. Perhaps it was the lack of power coupled with the airless and noiseless environment around him. Life support had been cut or destroyed outside of their landing zone, and the only noise was that of their internal systems. Everything else was as silent as the void of space outside. ​

    But why am I so paranoid?
  5. Research Level
    Corridor 4B
    Jacquel hunched over the destroyed automaton, tracing a gloved finger over the oil trailing to the ground. Its cold, lifeless gaze stared upward at the dark ceiling, bulbs of the sensory stations occasionally flickering off and on in dim flashes of blue light. Around her remained the soundless environment of a ship without air, the cramped walls pressing around her at all sides. She supposed they must have been white at one point, thought it was impossible to tell with nothing but infrared to judge from. ​

    Taking her gaze from the droid, her eyes glanced to the trail of oil that seemed to continue down the hallway. Queer that it had been damaged prior to here, though she berated herself for being that foolish. It was an abnormality that the droid was leaking to begin with, for their records had stated the ship's life support had failed due to undetermined circumstances. Though having no reason to doubt that it was a crippled life support system - after all, there was no oxygen outside their main bays - there was little reason to also take their report at face value. ​

    A moment later Jacquel stood and wordlessly drew her Nasai from its position at her side, clicking the weapon into life. Had there been oxygen to displace the noise, a low whine would have accompanied the discharge of electricity and plasma to the weapon's edges. As it was, an eerie blue light was all that filled the hallway, enough for her to see by without the drain of the HUD. Her face mask clicked off, clearing the black overlay and allowing her to see unhindered by statistics, vital signs, and aiming platforms. Taking one, deep breath, she began her descent into the dark hallway. ​

    About fifty meters in, she came across a fallen floor that led directly to the floor below her, appearing to have been clawed or otherwise torn through. Another abnormality. Her options were to descend to the lower floors or continue onward, of the two, the lower floor seemed to be more worthwhile. Stooping down and holding her Nasai over the hole, she peered into the cavernous depths of the ship below her. Nothing directly beneath her. Bracing herself for a fifteen foot drop, Jacquel jumped forward and let gravity do the rest. Coming down hard on one knee, she allowed herself a brief gasp of shock before standing, checking her surroundings. Again nothing. ​

    "Beginning check. 4C." She said in her melodious voice, curt and to the point. Without waiting for a reply, she shut off the unit and began to head right down the hallway. ​
  6. JAMES
    Abandoned Space Ship

    Technically, his job was to explore and discover. But when given the opportunity, James would scavenge. Something like a broken down spaceship was the perfect place for that. Who knows what kind of things they could remove and reuse on their ship? He knew enough about machinery to know what was useful and what wasn’t. Although if he ever had a doubt about what something was, or what use it had, he could always take a picture and send it up to the team ship for analyzing.

    James was currently camped out with Ruce and Edwin. He decided not to sleep, not for now. In a few days the team ship would be sinking it’s drill-like anchors into the planet’s surface. Perhaps then James could get a good night’s sleep. So far, they didn’t know too much about the life on the planet, however it was a planet of many climates. There was parts that were frozen tundras, and others that were tropical, and dry deserts. The exploration pod that James had ridden in to the planet had landed in the dry, sandy desert region. Teeth-chattering nights, and hot, sweaty days. The light had gone from the a long time ago, and things were already getting cold.

    James currently wore the skin-tight under armour that was worn beneath the metal power suits.. He had a laser pistol attached to a holster, laying in the sand as he began to suit up, the green light was on, indicating it was fully charged, and a small blinking red light beside it that the safety was on. He was sitting in the sand outside of the large reck, his communicator on as he listened to the commentary that went on inside the ship.
    “We’re not all asleep,” James would say with a slight chuckle over the communicator. He pressed a button on the chest of his armor, and the retractable helmet began to build itself around his face, and the screen loaded, before showing up with his his vitals, a charging bar, a navigation system, and speakers to communicate with the rest of the team.

    He leaned down, picking up the holster from the sand, dusting off his pistol before letting it rest at his hip. The armor he was wearing now was an upgrade. It wasn’t quite as bulky and heavy as some of the military-level armor. It would be easy to move around in, yet have some protection as well as an emergency oxygen system. Instead of hearing the team's conversation at a slight distance, slightly crackled by the radio, it was now right in his ears beneath his helmet. He could turn the communication on or off. However he could always keep a gps signal on so his other teammates would know where he was when and if they were separated. James pulled up a small local map that was roughly rendered by the system based on each of the team mate's locations. He saw a blip that represented O'Riely, a blip that represented Jaquel, and finally a blip that showed Greeand. He minimized the map for how, walking over to a small camp nearby the ruins. He poked his head in, his visor retracting, "Rise and shine. It's our turn."
    He left the two men to get ready, closing his visor and turning on his locator, "I'm going to head in. See what I can find, maybe there is something we can salvage for our ship. It's not a similar model, but you never know."
  7. Derelict Ship
    Entrance to Research Level
    "Fuck that..." Ruce Meson grunted after James, barely managing to get to his feet. ​

    Edwin Drake, being the sort that would be called an 'officer's pet' was the first of the two to stand and ready himself, which took nearly five minutes with all the system checks, armor, and straps to don. Once the two were finished, it was impossible to differentiate them besides glancing at the HUD unit that depicted the squad's location at all times. Within ten, they were at James' location among the scattered hallways and ruined chambers. Jacquel had briefly mentioned something about the hallways being devoid of any light, but this was an extreme if they'd ever seen one. ​

    "Think anything's on board?" Ruce finally broke the radio silence. "You know, shit that ain't human?" ​

    Edwin remained silence, preferring to make his rounds around a corridor they estimated to be somewhere around E hall. Most of the guidance signs had gone dark, leaving them without a specific layout of the place. There were maps of the interior, but without a reference point that was as good as a planetary map when trying to find a house number. Their armor hummed gently on the interior, though outside they were eerily silence in the atmospheres devoid interior of the ship. That was the worst part, Edwin wagered, that feeling people in the line of work called 'ghosting.' It was like you weren't there, like the darkness was as much as part of you as you were of it. ​

    "Creepy shit..." He muttered, waiting for James to respond to Ruce in the vain hope he would not turn around and badger him over an unanswered question. ​
  8. [BCOLOR=transparent]JAMES[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Abandoned Space Ship[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]As they traveled deeper into the ship, James switched his visor to night vision. The ink blacks and greys changed to eerie greens and blacks. He turned his head to look back at his two teammates. He stopped, looking directly at Meson when he asked about possible aliens. He paused, thinking over the question in his mind, though no expression was visible through his sleek black visor. [/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]“Turn on your night vision, it’s only going to get darker, and if you happen to find anything that we could use on our ship, make a note of it, or pick it up,” and with that he continued on, once more glancing at his holstered laser rifle, making sure it was fully charged. He un-holstered it, holding it low, but close in case he would need it soon. The adventurer kept his body close to the metal walls, peering carefully around corners when they were presented. Currently the only sounds were the soft echos of footsteps, and the sound of three human men breathing. [/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]There were a few dark, blurry forms up ahead, and James held up a hand, stopping, and moving carefully. He reached down, both hands on his automatic weapon. He flipped the safety off, the small pinprick light above the trigger flicking from green to red. The night vision could only show basic forms. But these weren’t moving. James stopped, switched from his night vision to a flash light. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]There were two bodies on the ground, clad in workmen jumpsuits. Navy blue with ID numbers on the breast pockets. James knelt down, his visor retracting as he examined the bodies. One was sitting up against the wall, head slumped forwards, the other sprawled out on the ground, face up. [/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]They were humanoid figures, although they weren’t human. They were completely hairless, with large skulls and ridges down the back of their skulls. Their skin was nearly translucent, with a slight grey hue. These were obviously oxygen-breathing organisms. James turned on his locater, connecting with the others on the ship,[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]“Two deceased. Male, judging by their humanoid structures... not sure what species. I’ll send photos to Eveline. Cause of death is suffocation, these were oxygen-breathing organisms. No sign of any other trauma,” he looked at the other body, briefly examining it for any evidence of a fight or any blows. But both bodies were clean. His eyes were lead up to a bend in the ship,[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]“I’m guessing the oxygen tank was down here somewhere... probably where these two were headed to to fix it. They’re workman, that’s for sure, but...” he leaned over one of the bodies, pulling a weapon from the corpse’s hip, “They’re armed.” He rose to his feet, turning the weapon over in his hands, examining it, “Commonly used laser pistol. Nothing fancy. Commonly sold around in trading space stations. There’s a serial number too...” he slid the pistol into a bag at his hip. The serial number would help them figure out more about this ship. [/BCOLOR]
  9. Derelict Ship
    Corridor 4C
    "Corridor four-C, no trace of life. Life support functioning at twenty percent on this level. Unmarked fluids, probable vitals, smearing the walls. Acidic in nature." Jacquel stated into the log unit, which was more for future analysis then it was for communications. "Estimated three hours of life support left on personal suits, will enter 4D before reporting back."
    Here the corridors, at the very least, were on lower power reserves and a dim light ran through the entirety. The doors, on the other hand, were entirely off limits and remained locked and clouded with debris more often than not. The lack of crew, dead or otherwise, still disturbed here. Where were they? Had they hidden themselves in a corridor closer to the life support unit and hoped for the best? Unlikely as it was, that had to be the answer. Anything else would be a madcap attempt at hope in the face of impossible odds.
    The crammed corridors were beginning to become more and more clouded with debris as she strode forward, back hunched over and footfalls quiet as they could be across the metal floors. After around thirty meters of ruined hallway and caved in doorways, another breach, similar to the one she had entered 4C from, blocked her passage to the next corridor. If her intuition was anything to go off of, going upward would only bring her process back to the previous hallway. Yet, perhaps this breach would lead elsewhere.
    "Second unusual breach detected. Will investigate on your call." She spoke softly into the open communication channel this time, as this was a question of permission, not her own judgement.
    All that was left was to wait.

    Derelict Ship
    Research Level
    Edwin, realizing no insistence from Ruce would come, came and knelt by one of the bodies, weapon placed on the ground beside him. Tentatively, he prodded one of the limp forms before. Nothing moved. Letting out a sharp sigh of relief, Edwin went to examining the body with an eyes-only search; it was usually best to get the readings and the gut judgement.

    "You sure they died from suffocation?" Ruce asked, to which Edwin shot a glare back from his helmet.

    "No, there's no reason to doubt James' judgement. No other signs of damage, internal or otherwise. Definitely a lack of oxygen on this one." Edwin retorted, standing up and fumbling for his weapon.

    Ruce didn't personally believe the report, but that was for another time, preferably one with something even more terrifying or eerie. It was often commented on why he was in this unit in the first place - ops like these were the sappers' main type of run - but here he was. Annoying, fearful, and suspicious.

    Fuck him.

    With that, Edwin began to clear through the hallway he had previously entered to avoid Ruce. There had been something, a doorway, that unsettled him. It was the only one on the floor that was unlocked from what he could gather. What had led this door to be the only one that didn't shut and lock itself when the oxygen went out? Had someone survived? Or had something caused this door to open after the fact? It was best to never take chances.

    "James." Edwin began. "We got an unlocked door."
    #9 ze_kraken, Sep 7, 2014
    Last edited: Sep 8, 2014
  10. JAMES
    Abandoned Ship

    James listened carefully to Jack’s report. He stayed silent, figuring she was saving it for the log. He rose from his crouching position, deep in thought, before his partners’ bickering caused him to surface. He waited for a moment, still crouched on the floor by the bodies. He slowly rose to his feet, and pulled up a few statistics on his helmet, eyeing the soft blinking light that represented the mercenary, “Wait just a minute, Jack and we'll catch up to you” if anything Jack was a nickname of endearment James had given Parking. Although he knew Terran was more than capable of taking care of herself, he would just feel better if she didn't go alone this time.

    He looked at the other two, an exasperated expression on his face, however it was currently not visible to his colleagues. “All the signs show suffocation. But until we cut one of these poor bastards open, we’re not going to know for sure. I was planning placing a marker on this one and coming back for him later when the mother ship lands,for further investigation” he gestured to the body with a gentle nudge of his foot. “But if you’d like to have the honors, Ruce, I won’t stop you,” James said, flatly. He took a step back from the body, opening his arms in a go ahead manner.

    In all honesty, James liked both Ruce and Edwin. However, both could equally be a pain in the ass. There were times when going in alone was preferred by James, but he wasn’t apposed to having teammates. Unlike some explorers, James appreciated the aid of others.

    His black helmeted head was facing Ruce when they were both interrupted by Edwin. James turned his head, and carefully stepped past the bodies and turned a corner to find Edwin. He took the laser rifle from his side and held it low, but ready. He stood on the other side of the door from Edwin, looking at him before giving a swift nod. James reached down, turning on a flashlight that was attached to the top of his rifle.
  11. Derelict Ship
    Research Level
    Edwin nodded in return, hand at the rifle that hung from a sash across his shoulder and down his back. He was one of the few in the business that believed in keeping the primary weapon tight to him and often tied them to his wrists or hands if he could. With his open hand, he tugged at the lever that opened the door. No budge. Redoubling his efforts, Edwin gave it a good shove in the opposite direction and, with a grunt of exertion, the door swung inward into a dimly lit chamber. Here were three more corpses, though they were not dead from oxygen starvation.

    Shit. Of all the ops to be sent on, it has to be the one time Ruce's right about something. Fucker's going to be cocky about this one.

    Two of them hung by their own entrails from a discarded chunk of plascrete, torn from the ceiling above. Blood, still red, ran from their open wounds and pooled at their feet, gathering in the creases between floor tiles. The third lay on the ground below them, chest rent open and a red mess of pulped flesh and sinew. Bones, presumably ribs, lay scattered and cracked around him. Edwin was not disgusted by the scene. He'd seen, and smelled, worse. At least here there was no scent of blood or burning flesh, just a grisly display.

    "A monument to fuckin' futility." He muttered under his breath, weapon raised as he strode forward slowly. "Don't call Ruce in."

    Edwin knelt before the man on the ground first, figuring it was best to start with the unusual case first. Most of his innards were gone, at least the useful vitals, leaving behind torn and useless entrails, muscle, and bits of blood-soaked skin. Kneeling closer to the remains, he noticed that most of it, which he has presumed to be pulped from some impact, had been ripped by possible bite marks. That wasn't unusual. Some primitive species or parasites ate at people on ships like this despite the precautions. No, what was disturbing was the shape and size. Humanoid.

    Well, fuck.
  12. James gave a slightly unimpressed look ad Edwin, “He’s a part of the team, he needs to know. Plus, he’s going to find out sooner or later. Doesn’t make him right about the last two,” he said, turning the flashlight on the end of his rifle and pointing it up at the ceiling. He studied the open ceiling, where the other two bodies were hanging. He took several pictures of the wreck, and tossed a blinking marker over to Edwin. “Go ahead and put this on one of the bodies, we can come back later to collect the bodies for examination in the lab,” he said, peering back over his shoulder down the hallway. When the marker was placed on a body, a blinking came up beneath his visor. Showing its location. He dismissed it and looked down the corridor that the room was connected to, “I’ll be right back,” he said, and tapped the side of his head on his helmet, indicating he would have his communicators on. He held his weapon close, and started down the dark corridor. He used the flashlight on his weapons to guide him.

    The hallway lead to a dead end, where there was a terminal, currently dead. There was still a possibility of extracting information, however. After some tinkering, James found an information chip, He turned it over in his gloved hands, peering down at it, his helmet zooming up on it for him for a better view. It looked undamaged.

    There was a slot in the forearm of his power suit for information chips. He pushed the chip in and waited, the information was copying and loading—a green loading bar on the inside of James’ visor. The information came up in folders, most of it useless coding. He trashed everything that wasn’t of use, which was almost everything. But the last folder, when it opened up, spread a grid across James’ visor, a complex system of hallways and rooms, until he saw a green blinking light on the map right in front of a small box labeled (Terminal 23-D). That was him. His eyes traced along down the hallway and to the side in one of the rooms, there was another blip that was Edwin, and down again there was Ruce. Fucking perfect.

    James turned and headed down the hallway, trashing the chip and sending a copy of the map to each of his teammates, and even to the others who were currently a board the ship.

    “Found a map, our communicators are blue dots, now we can keep track of each other, and ourselves.”

    The map was 3D and could zoom out and rotate to show the different floors of the ship.
  13. Derelict Ship
    Research Level
    Edwin grunted his response, calling for Ruce to enter the room. He promptly did, having to stifle a lewd comment or otherwise sarcastic remark. Without further conversation the two began to settle into their work. Rather, for Edwin it was supervising the movement of the bodies while he examined the gaping hole in the ceiling. What the hell were they hunting here? Whatever this thing was, it had torn through an entire twelve inches of plascrete and into the level above them. There was no sign of the material having been melted, no, just...torn to shreds.

    "The fuck..." Edwin muttered. "The literal fuck..."

    Ruce had managed to drag the worst of the mangled corpses out into the hallway by the time Edwin took his glance from the cavernous hole. Shaking his head disapprovingly, Edwin walked and, with one quick movement, snapped one of the hanging bodies down from its perch. With an audible grunt, he hefted the limp form over his shoulders and turned back to Ruce.

    "What made you think we needed the severely fucked-up one?" He questioned, eyes attempting to lock with Ruce's.

    "Figured he had the most to say.." Ruce shrugged sheepishly.

    "Right. Then you'll drag him if you think he's that important." Edwin retorted, beginning to head out into the hallway.

    Ruce always managed to make the easiest of tasks difficult, very difficult. Edwin was quite agitated to find that captain-pessimist had chosen him to come along, even more so at O'Riley's choice. They were both fine once bullets started flying, but at times like these, they were a royal pain in the ass. But he was a soldier. A soldier with a simple code. Obey.

    And be damned if I won't.​
  14. Abandoned Ship

    James watched the two bicker and struggle with the bodies upon his return. He looked at the bloody, gory mess around and stepped over the body that Ruce had dragged out.

    “The bodies can wait until the ship lands. Hopefully if all things go well, the ship will be landing tomorrow, and then we can get some stretchers and other gear to get these bodies out in one piece. Any more dragging that one and he’ll probably just break in two,” James said, casually jabbing his thumb in the direction of the body closest to Ruce.

    “Best thing for now would be stick with pictures,” he said, leaning one shoulder wearily up against the wall. He checked the time. It was five am, “We best start heading back. We’ve got a marker here on one of the bodies, and we’ve got a map for us to locate them whenever we come back.”

    James sighed, feeling the drowsiness start to make his limbs feel heavier, especially under the weight of the power suit.
  15. Derelict Ship
    Deepest Reaches
    There had been little to nothing of note upon further investigation of the corridors. More crammed, dark, and foreboding passageways that had led to more crammed, dark, and foreboding passageways. Of course, several craters of similar size had presented themselves to Jacquel as she combed every inch of every service shaft, electrical output, nook and cranny. Each led down another rabbit hole she was quite sure she lacked jurisdiction to head into, and thus, she kept to this one passageway down an unmarked corridor. No, it was most likely a marked corridor, however she had neglected to view the numbering system for quite some time.

    Finally, two hours into the breach, Jacquel had decided it was time to turn back. Her bland, impersonal comment into the comms unit that she was on her return voyage had elicited no further reply, as was usually the case. From there it was simply a matter of trekking back through the same crammed, dark, and foreboding passageways until she found the way back. No doubt her findings would garner some interest, though for that she was prepared to wait for further orders. Noting the floor level on her way out, Jacquel turned back up to the gaping wound in the ship and gritted her teeth.

    Time to look before the leap.

    Ten minutes later, armor scraped from a protruding portion of plascrete, Jacquel emerged from the cavernous opening and glanced around. Nothing had changed. Taking a brief respite to reevaluate vital levels and armor integrity upon her HUD unit, she opened the floor plan on her personal assistance device and marked a beacon back to the main landing point. If all went well, the walk would take only fifteen minutes. Then, she would turn herself in for some much needed sleep: yes, even Jacquel the weapon needed to sleep.​
  16. [BCOLOR=transparent]Eveline[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Tech Wing[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Eveline was interrupted from her investigations by static coming from her communicator. She had been leaning back in her office chair, peering up at the white wall, where the footage was being projected. So far, the bot hadn’t picked up much, but she had taken a few zoomed screen shots; a few smudgy shapes she could come back later and manipulate into focus. Bags were starting to form under her eyes and she was getting sleepy. A cigarette hung from between her lips loosely, dangling precariously. Her eyes were blood-shot, but she kept groggily focused on the images before her. From time to time she would tap a pause button, using her glass table as the controls for the video. She would zoom up, take a shot, zoom back out. Sometimes she would end up rewinding to see it again, and then rewinding and using slow motion to try and keep things clear. It was a slow, tedious, detail-oriented process. A process that Eveline had done many times before. Business as usual. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]When the static came up through her communicator, she paused the footage, and turned up the volume. It was a message from the planet below. Someone was attempting to tune in to them. Eveline fiddled with the frequency until James’ voice tuned in clearly. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]“...bodies in the ship. We’ve set markers on them. We’re done searching for the night. We’ll contact you again in a few hours, for now we’re getting some sleep.” [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]And with that, the transmission was done. It had been a ship-wide message, so each person was receiving it on their communicator. Eveline took a deep breath, sighing out a lung-full of smoke. She rose to her feet, shuffling towards the small coffee-maker that was built into the wall. She set a mug in the slot, and pressed a few buttons. The machine gurgled as it boiled water. She ran a hand wearily through her short black hair. She could definitely use some sleep, too. She walked back to her seat with a steaming cup of black coffee. She peered down at the work in front of her. She still had half of the footage to watch. She let out a sharp sigh, taking the cigarette from her lips and snuffing it out in an ashtray on her desk. She rose to her feet, taking the mug with her. She punched in a few codes, locking access to the video file and any notes she had taken. She slid her feet into some shoes and started to power down her office. She would have to come back to it later in the day. She needed at least a power nap or something. If she continued to rely on coffee instead of sleep she’d develop a heart problem, she just knew it. Eveline switched off the lights on her way out, and made her way down the hallway, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button as the doors closed. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Beatrice [/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Infirmary [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]There had been a minor accident in the chemistry lab earlier in the evening, however it wasn't anything Beatrice couldn't handle. She had patched up chemical burns time and time again. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]It wasn't a chemist, in fact, it was an engineer. There was a chemical spill in the lab, an engineer who was visiting had bumped up against a rack of experiments. The poor idiot didn't know better. Thank goodness it wasn't anything too valuable. All of the information on those tubes had been taken down and it was a recoverable damage. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Beatrice was the only medic around at the time so she took the innovative to quickly get him under the chemical cleansing shower. While the chemical burn on his arm wasn't serious it was still painful. Beatrice had lead the engineer from the chemical lab to the infirmary. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Once in the medic bay, the engineer was given a sedative and a pain-killer through a needle. She set him down against one of the raised cots and started on treating the burn. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Beatrice received the static-filled transmission partway through patching up her patient. She listened, sealing the bandage, "Alright, I'll leave you some painkillers, and some antibiotics to prevent infection. Take the antibiotics twice a day and the painkillers as needed. You should be able to get back to work day after tomorrow," she said, giving a comforting smile as she started to pack up the medical equipment. She decided to leave the patient overnight in the infirmary giving him a nights worth of sleep in one of the sleeping pods which would help him heal faster. She turned of the lights in the medic bay on her way out, taking off her glasses and dropping them into her lab-coat pocket, passing a hand wearily over her face. [/BCOLOR]
  17. Research Vessel
    Anthon Greenand stood leaned against the breach hallway's curved walls, killing time until he was called upon or until someone else came to head once more into the deserted ship hardly meters from him. Jacquel, as she was want to do, had once more slipped under the chain of command and back into the ship nearly six hours previous. Perfectly timed; no one had seen her slip through until the link couldn't trace her signal anymore. No matter. She'd be back or she wouldn't, and Greenand wasn't going to let one lone corporate agent rustle his feathers.

    The bodies the previous team had found posed an issue - something had killed the crew, and worse, they were no longer alone in there. Not that it changed their mission, but things were certainly a hell of an easier time without something lurking through the corridors. All there was to wait for regarding that joyous discovery was the research team's full analysis, which, Greenand wagered, couldn't have taken longer if they tried. Ruce, damn him, had already commented on it three times in great detail with several open statements as to what he wished to do once he got his hands on the research team. That had not lasted long.

    "They're waiting for you." It was Edwin, the sudden sound of his voice over the commlink causing Greenand to jump and fumble with his rifle.

    "Copy that. Five minutes." Greenand returned, clicking the link off and beginning the long haul back to the 'meeting hall' - the largest, open interior of their ship they could find.

    A shame Jacquel would be left out of it, but then again, she probably knew all of this and more given how much time she enjoyed digging around in that ship. Who knew if she was withholding information vital to success? She had her agenda, they had theirs, and there was little anyone could do to overrule her: she was too deep in the corp's good books to lay a finger on her. Tossing the thought aside, realizing that, like the bodies, this changed nothing of his task, Greenand doubled the tempo on his way back. Once more we crawl through darkness and hope to find something other than flickering lights and broken hallways.​
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