CayrusConsulFriends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!Registered Userregular
That would be splendid Wellington, thank you chap.
Augustus turns to Lyonel. "Dear boy, that whole might be a bit small for me, but have no fear, I'm currently requesting the schematics. We'll find a way in there."
Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Sec is just beginning to head for the collapsed tunnels when Gerrad's emergency beacon lights up. His heartrate is elevated and he seems to be stationary. Gen is nearby, but not moving to assist.
|INCOMING MESSAGE FROM A.CUMBERBATCH/WELLINGTON.MUSE|VENTILATION SYSTEM SCHEMATICS REQUESTED|REQUESTED MATERIALS ARE CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET BY THE PATHFINDER CORPORATION|SEND?
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Lord_AsmodeusgoeticSobriquet:Here is your magical cryptic riddle-tumour: I AM A TIME MACHINERegistered Userregular
Sec considers for it a moment as he continues on to the airlock and those trapped beyond it.
The data was classified, but the situation was certainly an emergency. Consideration. Reasons for classification?
Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if Labor had not first existed. Labor is superior to capital, and deserves much the higher consideration. - Lincoln
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
edited June 2013
|STANDARD TOP SECRET CLASSIFICATION PROTOCOL|VENTILATION SYSTEMS INCLUDE ANTI-NANOTECH DEFENSE SYSTEMS COPYRIGHT DIRECT ACTION HYPERCORPORATION|ALPHA SUBROUTINE DETERMINATION: CURRENT OBJECTIVES JUSTIFY MATERIAL RELEASE|
The airlock is deactivated, but there are manual release controls. Based on emergency beacon clustering and the estimated number of personnel in the tunnels at the time of collapse, you think the majority of the thirteen victims are just beyond the airlock door. All of the beacons indicated that their users are alive, if motionless.
Snowbeat on
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Pendarski digs her boot deeper into Gerrad's back, never taking her eyes off Jo.
Reynolds bangs a fist against the side of the dome. "I said get out here! If there's anyone else in there with you, tell them to do the same!"
"I do not think you will get much of a response out of an unconscious body. Unless she happened to wake up with all that commotion you are making I suppose. Or maybe you're all a hallucination. That might be nice."
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Jo stops shouting at Pendarski and crouches down next to Gerrad. "Who are you? Who's in there? Tell them to come out or Reynolds is likely to get an itchy trigger finger."
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Lord_AsmodeusgoeticSobriquet:Here is your magical cryptic riddle-tumour: I AM A TIME MACHINERegistered Userregular
Sec sends the requested information to Augustus, warning him about the anti-nanotech defenses as well. The power was out, but if it were to come on if the nanotech scientist had anything on him it might react.
As he sends the information Sec gets to work opening the airlock with the manual release controls, and maps out the location of the beacons farthest from the airlock door.
Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if Labor had not first existed. Labor is superior to capital, and deserves much the higher consideration. - Lincoln
How many security specialists does it take to screw in a light bulb... or in this case, return communications status to functional?
-Is that a joke? Uh... Hahahahahahaha!-
Only partially. Is anyone else on this team a communications or systems expert?
-Oh! One moment while I fetch data from available local sources.-
Dillon was displeased, although the combination of his suit and shaded visor made him seem much more passive to observers than might otherwise be the case. He'd been friendly, but professional throughout their assignment here. There had been some flirting, banter, every bit of expected sociability, and Francois Dillon was a very likable individual. Jo's threat was followed by a soft click--inaudible in the vacuum, but the simple motion of Francois turning the safety off on his gun was unmistakable. Just a reinforcement of the threat. Surely.
Quickly now, Pom-pom.
If my role play is hindered by rolling to play, then I'd prefer the rolls play right, instead of steam-rolling play-night.
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RingoHe/Hima distinct lack of substanceRegistered Userregular
edited June 2013
Vox, inform Sec that there are potential hostiles outside the dome, and they seem to have Gerrad. Then ask him what the hell I should do, because this looks like it's all about to go sideways.
"Huh, guess I have not introduced myself. Gerrad Lancaster! If you have studied xeno-archaeology you may have read something I have contributed or written... You folks wouldn't happen to be part of that Direct Action unit that worked with a team of mine a few years back would you? I swear what happened on that mission was a failure of communications and complete accident. But really, they should have known not to go poking around in that completely unexplored ruin. What did they expect would happen going around touching every damn thing in that place..."
"Or uh. Maybe you are not those people?"
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
edited June 2013
Sec opens the outer airlock door and glides into the chamber, sealing it behind himself. The airlock was entirely dark, with empty hard-suits hanging from harnesses on the walls.
|WITHOUT POWER THIS ROOM WILL NOT AUTOMATICALLY DEPRESSURIZE PRIOR TO OUTER DOOR OPENING|PROBABILITY OF INCURRING DAMAGE TO AIRLOCK SEALS BY OPENING OUTER DOOR: 48%|
|WARNING!|RECEIVING INDICATION OF HOSTILE ACTIVITY FROM G.FULMIS|ALPHA SUBROUTINE DETERMINATION: PROBABILITY OF HOSTILE INCURSION WITHOUT TRIGGERING SAFEGUARDS: 23%|PROBABILITY OF SECURITY FORCE ACTION: 76%|PROBABILITY OF INSURGENT ACTION: 89%|G.FULMIS/VOX.MUSE REQUESTS IMMEDIATE TACTICAL RECOMMENDATION|
---
So, uh, yeah! Doesn't look like anyone else on the team is much of a tech. Reynolds has a bit of experience in his dossier with electronic security and Jo used to work on an outpost maintenance crew, but I wouldn't give either of them a spanner and a broken case, haha. Sorry.
Jo stands and walks over to the dome and kicks the siding with her boot, raising a small cloud of dust. Dillon watches with interest as a large sheet of rock, resting on the side of the dome, begins to slowly slide forward. Jo puts her fists on her hips and switches her ecto to broadcast. "If you don't come out right fucking now, I'm going to let Reynolds express his anger issues. You don't want that."
---
Cumberbatch examines the tiny ventilation shaft. He'd squeezed through smaller spaces, but not by much. Lyonel is leaning against the locked door, whistling another 20th century pop tune.
Sir, we've received a reply from Sec. He has forwarded the schematics for the ventilation system and has also warned us of anti-nanotech security devices installed within it. Direct Action security devices, sir.
---
Gen waits for a reply from Sec, staring down the man with the rifle. His breath is loud in his ears and his helmet's glass front is fogged. Tan is propped up against the bulkhead nearby, still unconscious. Gerrad begins ranting something on the open channel and then the distinct sound of a booted foot connecting with Gerrad's gut broadcast ends his speech.
Man, if Sec doesn't get back to us soon, we are fucked. Never been a big fan of people who make their points with the business end of a gun, y'know?
Snowbeat on
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Lord_AsmodeusgoeticSobriquet:Here is your magical cryptic riddle-tumour: I AM A TIME MACHINERegistered Userregular
While Sec does internal calculations on how best to open the airlock door while decreasing the risk of damage, he sends a message to Gen with along with the descriptions of the security team and a sample of their voices, along with a record of Sec's security status.
"Based on my calculations there is a high percentage chance that they are either security, or they are insurgents. If they identify themselves as and meet the descriptions of the security personnel I have sent you, I recommend you surrender to them, explain your presence, and warn them about those injured within, and my presence here in the airlock. If they are not the security personnel you have two options. Surrender yourself and leave Dr.Tan behind if you believe that they will not harm you or Gerrad until the security team arrives, or escape and hide yourself if you believe that your and Gerrad's morph death is inevitable."
Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if Labor had not first existed. Labor is superior to capital, and deserves much the higher consideration. - Lincoln
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Gen listens to the voice samples. A couple of them sound very similar to the people currently shouting at him to emerge from the dome. It seems very possible that this is the erstwhile dig security team.
Yeah, definitely, man. Where the hell have these guys been this whole time?
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RingoHe/Hima distinct lack of substanceRegistered Userregular
Apparently off doing steroids or something equally dangerous to their mental health. Great, just great.
Gen very slowly raises his hands. "Look, either you're here to kill me which gives me no reason to comply, or you're not here to kill me which would mean letting your homicidal tendencies run rampant would be very bad for your career options. Either way, I'm gonna stay right here for the moment, and calmly ask you to identify yourselves. Emphasis on calmly. Let's all be real cool now."
Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Reynolds cocks his helmet towards Jo. "Can I shoot this guy now?"
Jo shakes her head. "Hold off, you jack." She leans forward into the hole. "Fulmis, is that you? Jesus, get your ass out here. What are you even doing in there? You know it's off limits." She braces against the bulkhead and reaches a hand into the breach. "Come on now, take my hand. Let's get you back to base."
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CayrusConsulFriends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!Registered Userregular
Thank you, Wellington. Send my regards and thanks to SEC. Also, please keep me updated on his status and that of the others.
Augustus briefly considers recent developments in anti-nanotech security and what the most logical precautions to take would be before turning to Lyonel.
"Well, old chap, looks like my superior flexibility will allow me to make my way to the core. Is there anything I should know before I head off?"
After Lyonel tells him anything he needs to know, he'll take whatever precautions necessary to deal with the security, squeeze himself into the hole, and try to navigate toward the core using the schematics.
Gerrad grunts after receiving a kick in the gut, and he decides to shut up until Gen makes a move.
Well, I suppose I can just let Gen handle this for now. Hopefully he isn't a double agent working for another hypercorp or something. Wouldn't that be fun. So Tarn, have you received any updates from Augustus or Sec?
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
It seems that Dr. Cumberbatch is attempting some sort of contortion to enter the computer core. And Sec is apparently going to help the people trapped in the tunnels north of here. We're on our own, I think. That kick hurt; how are you holding up?
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
|UNABLE TO ACCESS SOLAR MESH FROM THIS LOCATION|ACCESSING LOCAL MESHNET|NO DATA ON AIRLOCK DOOR MODEL Z67M5 FOUND|ANALYZING USING SENSOR READINGS|
The tactical subroutine generates a model of the airlock door. According to the t-wave generated map of its interior workings, the door should give enough to release pressure without violence... here.
With a loud bang, the airlock cabin depressurizes as all of the air in the room is forced out of the tiny break in the airlock seal. Sec locks his manipulator arms and braces himself against the fierce wind created. After a few seconds it calms and the subroutine gives him the go-ahead to open the door.
Lyonel watches with a mixture of admiration and disgust from his seat on the floor. After five minutes of squeezing, squelching, and other general awkwardnesses, Cumberbatch finally manages to fit his deformable body into the minuscule space provided by the vent. With agonizing slowness, he shifts his mass forward, deeper into the shaft. Having deactivated his various nanomachinery and augmentations, Wellington estimates that it'll take four to six minutes of steady progress to reach the computer core.
As Cumberbatch pushes further, there's an odd banging noise from somewhere in the base. It sounds almost like someone kicking a door.
That's actually decent news Privately label any social obligations with them as [pending review, please].
It was not, to his mind, better news than Jo's change of demeanor, but it was good news. Possibly hostile and definitely expendable was an easier set of variables to deal with, which just left the mystery of the individual(s) inside. Possibly Fulmis, which made it likely any other were team members, and all possibly compromised by the artifact--but also more likely than his current group to be able to reestablish communications.
Let's address the masses, shall we?
The sound of a clearing throat washes over the comm channels, "If we're done measuring dicks--and I do think in this matchup of 'Shirts' vs. 'MilSpec Hardware,' my team can chalk this up as a win--then can we all calm down a bit? The fact that team Shirts is still alive should be testament enough to the fact that we are here in an official capacity, and I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone," he pauses to turn his visor in Gen's direction, "that our employer would take less offense at us shooting unarmed possible V.I.P.s than us allowing unidentified people to wander around a recently breached, highly secure site containing proprietary and classified... things. In addition," another pause, this time shooting Pendarski a look she can likely feel, rather than see, "it's relatively unlikely that if you weren't authorized to be here, you'd be as underdressed as you are, and so you should be in little enough trouble once we verify your identity. Now let's get this moving, we have things to do today."
Leper on
If my role play is hindered by rolling to play, then I'd prefer the rolls play right, instead of steam-rolling play-night.
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RingoHe/Hima distinct lack of substanceRegistered Userregular
"Well that's terribly reassuring," Gen says to no one in particular. "And fine - it's Fulmis and Tan in here. But Tan's unconscious, so if you want her outside the dome you're going to have to help."
This is... incredibly stressful. Vox, play something soothing. Low volume.
Jo takes your arm as you crawl out and helps you to your feet. "God, Fulmis," she says, "You really had me worried. Thought we were going to have to go room-by-room taking this place back." She takes a look at the state of your suit. "You look like hell. What happened in there? Are you hurt?" As she's speaking, Reynolds is waving Dillon forward to help him haul Tan's body out. Pendarski gesticulates and says something on the squad's private channel and Jo turns back to you. "This a friend of yours?" She points at Gerrad, still prostrate.
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RingoHe/Hima distinct lack of substanceRegistered Userregular
edited June 2013
"Yeah, he's a friendly. Best not abuse him too much. And to get right to the point - what the fuck is going on?"
Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Jo shrugs. "We got the call. Power went down, we rolled in. You're, like, top 'crashhound, right? You never know if it's some kind of alien malware eating away at the envirodome or just some idiot kicking the cord out." She cocks her helmet to one side. "You sure you're all right? You sound weird. Unfriendly."
Pendarski grunts and steps off Gerrad's back, then leans over and lifts him bodily to his feet. "You wanna file a complaint?" Her voice is husky and deep, that of a fury morph's. Her size and strength attest to that as well. She looks over to where Gen and Jo are speaking and then back to you. "So what the hell happened in there?"
Dillon begins to walk over to Reynolds and happens to look up again. The sheet of rock leaning against the dome has begun to slide forward again, raising a cloud of dust as it goes. It looks to have detached from the side of the ravine and is rapidly on its way to crush Reynolds.
---
Sec lights up the tunnel with infrared light, scanning it in all frequencies. Empty, as expected. The beacons are transmitting from about two hundred meters further down, around a bend.
"Lo, be not afraid," Dillon broadcasts placidly across his team's channel, while making all due haste to grab up Mr. Reynolds and throw him clear of the impending danger. For once he was thankful for low gravity.
If my role play is hindered by rolling to play, then I'd prefer the rolls play right, instead of steam-rolling play-night.
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
After making his stupefying announcement over the open comm, Dillon sprints as fast as the lunar gravity will allow. The rest of the team watches, at first confused and then horrified as they see what's about to happen. "Move it, Reynolds!" Pendarski shouts. The side of the dome is crumpling inwards as the sheet of rock slowly collapses down it, Reynolds just cluing in on it. "Oh shi-" he begins to say before Dillon loops an arm around his neck seal and almost throws him away from the dome, the residual motion bringing him along for the ride. The security squad and the others just look on as the sheet's weight grows too much for the dome and shears through the side of it, slamming silently into the ground and sending Gerrad and Gen to their knees with the force of it.
As the dust settles and the team picks themselves off the ground, you can see that a great flat shard of stone has neatly blocked the hole in the dome. Reynolds sits up. "Oh shit! Tan was in there!" Jo, walking stiffly, kicks a few rocks out of the way and then stops. She bends over slowly and then picks something up off the ground with both of her hands. "Yeah... about that." She brings it around for everyone to see. It's Tan's helmet... and there's a lot of blood. "She's still in it... well, the part that matters, anyway." She presses a button on the helmet and the neck seals itself shut, then she clips it to her belt. "Well, I guess that's a project for later. Let's head back to base. Gen, you and your friend can enlighten us to what exactly is in that damn dome."
---
Cumberbatch edged around a corner slowly.
We're about halfway there, sir. Your body is holding up beautifully. Oh... Mr. Sark is requesting a communications link. I'll connect the two of you.
"Unfortunately, that head over there probably has the most answers. I can only guess as to what exactly that artifact was. Only had a few moments with it before things began to go wrong. Though if Tan's head starts growing tentacles or something, I wouldn't be very surprised."
"Lomax, I seldom get to be so... scriptural," Francois quips as he brushes the lunar dust from his suit. He takes a moment to gesture in the air before placing his hands on the man's faceplate before giving him a playful shove. "Now, go your way, and stand under falling rocks no more." Ah yes, the time-honored tradition of horseplay on the moon.
"Tentacles? Was she fooling around with the artifact, or was she just... into that sort of thing," he asks, his voice filled with residual amusement.
If my role play is hindered by rolling to play, then I'd prefer the rolls play right, instead of steam-rolling play-night.
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Lord_AsmodeusgoeticSobriquet:Here is your magical cryptic riddle-tumour: I AM A TIME MACHINERegistered Userregular
Sec carefully heads through the hallways plotting out the most efficient path to the next airlock, and those beacons closest to his position. Hopefully they all had functioning vac suits, so they would have time for Sec to get them back into atmosphere. If it came to it he could just take their stacks of course, but most people preferred to avoid morph-death, especially non info-life types. What's more, with just those case morphs left, a bunch of new angry employees being forced into case morphs would add just one more headache onto this whole series of events.
Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if Labor had not first existed. Labor is superior to capital, and deserves much the higher consideration. - Lincoln
"She touched the damn thing, I... think we touched it as well? It is somewhat of a blur. Seems to have affected all of us, though it appears that Tan took the brunt of whatever the artifact did. Or maybe it's already finished messing with our heads? Before that collapse took off her head, she was dreaming pretty hard, a lot of delta wave activity." Gerrad unconsciously taps his fingers on his head, before realizing he can't really scratch his head in the vacsuit.
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RingoHe/Hima distinct lack of substanceRegistered Userregular
Gen picks himself up off the ground and gives his head a shake. "The last few hours or so have been way more fucked up than I'm accustomed to. Lead on, and hopefully we'll find someplace normal."
Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
edited July 2013
Jo doesn't hesitate. "Let's head back to the base and see what we can do about getting power back online. Then we'll get Tan resleeved and find out exactly what's happening here."
---
Yolanda switches to her private channel. "Alright, Pendarski, Reynolds, you lead the way. Dillon and I will guard the new arrivals. No telling what the hell they were doing in that dome, so keep on your toes."
---
Pendarski suddenly lopes off in the low gravity and Reynolds, still shaking the dust off his helmet, follows. Jo and Dillon hang back with you. Jo sidles up to Gen.
Uh, Gen? This Yolanda chick wants to open a private channel. You cool with that?
---
Sec casts his spotlights over the dark tunnel. There are a pair of workmen already here, digging frantically at the rubble. One of them turns at the light. They freeze and then their companion turns as well. You focus the lights on them and read their nametags. JACKSON and QUINCE. The troublemakers from before.
There's a moment while they're trying various communications channels, trying to talk to you. You finally tune your ecto-subroutine to the work channel. "-rapped under it! You have to help!" The voice is harsh, rasped raw in the dry air of her suit's rebreather. Jackson steps forward. "Please! They're our friends!" Quince shakes his head. "Jackson..." Jackson twists and grabs the shoulders of his suit. "They're not dead!"
|WORKER A.JACKSON ASSESSMENT IS CORRECT|WORKER AIR SUPPLY BASED ON ESTIMATES OF WORKER REBREATHER CAPACITY AND SCRUBBER CAPABILITY AS WELL AS RECENT REPAIR REPORTS: ONE HOUR| AIR SUPPLY WILL EXPIRE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES ACCORDING TO ESTIMATE|
Snowbeat on
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RingoHe/Hima distinct lack of substanceRegistered Userregular
Yeah sure, go ahead. What's the worst that could happen? While you're doing that, what's the writeup on this team that Sec sent us? Who are these guys?
"Jo, you are not seriously considering resleeving that woman, are you," comes Dillon's private reply as he falls into step and finally flips the safety back on.
If my role play is hindered by rolling to play, then I'd prefer the rolls play right, instead of steam-rolling play-night.
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
"She might not be the only person who knows what's actually happening here, Dillon, but she's the only one whose head is on my belt. If this fork of hers doesn't want to spend the next thousand years running down its battery under a moonrock, she's going to have to talk."
---
Sure thing, buddy.
"Hey, Fulmis. Are you all right? You're acting... weird." Jo's simulated voice, modulated by her emotional state, is softer than the bark she used to command her team. Vox idly ticks off personality traits indicated by the change in tone.
Sounds like affection, pal. You've been getting up to stuff without me?
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Lord_AsmodeusgoeticSobriquet:Here is your magical cryptic riddle-tumour: I AM A TIME MACHINERegistered Userregular
edited July 2013
Sec scans the rubble with his radar and t-ray emitters to get a better picture of what's going on underneath before attempting anything immediately.
Lord_Asmodeus on
Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if Labor had not first existed. Labor is superior to capital, and deserves much the higher consideration. - Lincoln
"Assuming it's her that's still in there, the other two aren't also compromised, and that just leaving her stack under a rock is the sensible thing to do," Dillon adds calmly, doing his absolute best to avoid questioning the officer's orders too much. "Which is a good deal of assumption."
If my role play is hindered by rolling to play, then I'd prefer the rolls play right, instead of steam-rolling play-night.
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
"You're making some large assumptions there yourself, Dillon. Remember our mission." Jo's voice is curt. It seems like she's preoccupied with something else.
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Snowbeati need somethingto kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered Userregular
Sec moves forward, scanning the rubble pile with his spotlights, and Jackson and Quince take a step back.
|SCANNING ON ALL EM FREQUENCIES...|SCAN FINISHED|ELEVEN HUMAN MORPHS ARE UNDER THE RUBBLE WITHIN A HOLLOW FORMED BY AN OVERARCHING WALL|ALL ARE STILL TRANSMITTING ON THE EMERGENCY CHANNEL|RUBBLE IS MOVABLE BUT RISKS FURTHER COLLAPSE|
"Aren't you going to do something?" Jackson's voice is high-pitched, full of terror and stress.
|IF RUBBLE IS MOVED IMPROPERLY: PROBABILITY OF CURRENTLY-INHABITED CHAMBER COLLAPSING IS 79%|IF COLLAPSE OCCURS: PROBABILITY OF A.JACKSON AND C.QUINCE EXPIRING 94%|PROBABILITY OF IRREPARABLE DAMAGE OCCURRING TO OUR FRAME 82%|
Posts
Augustus turns to Lyonel. "Dear boy, that whole might be a bit small for me, but have no fear, I'm currently requesting the schematics. We'll find a way in there."
Henri Emmanuel Gratien St Pierre in Where No Man Has Gone Before
Lord Augustus Cumberbatch in Eclipse Phase
|INCOMING MESSAGE FROM A.CUMBERBATCH/WELLINGTON.MUSE|VENTILATION SYSTEM SCHEMATICS REQUESTED|REQUESTED MATERIALS ARE CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET BY THE PATHFINDER CORPORATION|SEND?
The data was classified, but the situation was certainly an emergency. Consideration. Reasons for classification?
The airlock is deactivated, but there are manual release controls. Based on emergency beacon clustering and the estimated number of personnel in the tunnels at the time of collapse, you think the majority of the thirteen victims are just beyond the airlock door. All of the beacons indicated that their users are alive, if motionless.
Reynolds bangs a fist against the side of the dome. "I said get out here! If there's anyone else in there with you, tell them to do the same!"
As he sends the information Sec gets to work opening the airlock with the manual release controls, and maps out the location of the beacons farthest from the airlock door.
-Is that a joke? Uh... Hahahahahahaha!-
Only partially. Is anyone else on this team a communications or systems expert?
-Oh! One moment while I fetch data from available local sources.-
Dillon was displeased, although the combination of his suit and shaded visor made him seem much more passive to observers than might otherwise be the case. He'd been friendly, but professional throughout their assignment here. There had been some flirting, banter, every bit of expected sociability, and Francois Dillon was a very likable individual. Jo's threat was followed by a soft click--inaudible in the vacuum, but the simple motion of Francois turning the safety off on his gun was unmistakable. Just a reinforcement of the threat. Surely.
Quickly now, Pom-pom.
Not that things were going great just now anyway.
"Or uh. Maybe you are not those people?"
|WITHOUT POWER THIS ROOM WILL NOT AUTOMATICALLY DEPRESSURIZE PRIOR TO OUTER DOOR OPENING|PROBABILITY OF INCURRING DAMAGE TO AIRLOCK SEALS BY OPENING OUTER DOOR: 48%|
|WARNING!|RECEIVING INDICATION OF HOSTILE ACTIVITY FROM G.FULMIS|ALPHA SUBROUTINE DETERMINATION: PROBABILITY OF HOSTILE INCURSION WITHOUT TRIGGERING SAFEGUARDS: 23%|PROBABILITY OF SECURITY FORCE ACTION: 76%|PROBABILITY OF INSURGENT ACTION: 89%|G.FULMIS/VOX.MUSE REQUESTS IMMEDIATE TACTICAL RECOMMENDATION|
---
So, uh, yeah! Doesn't look like anyone else on the team is much of a tech. Reynolds has a bit of experience in his dossier with electronic security and Jo used to work on an outpost maintenance crew, but I wouldn't give either of them a spanner and a broken case, haha. Sorry.
Jo stands and walks over to the dome and kicks the siding with her boot, raising a small cloud of dust. Dillon watches with interest as a large sheet of rock, resting on the side of the dome, begins to slowly slide forward. Jo puts her fists on her hips and switches her ecto to broadcast. "If you don't come out right fucking now, I'm going to let Reynolds express his anger issues. You don't want that."
---
Cumberbatch examines the tiny ventilation shaft. He'd squeezed through smaller spaces, but not by much. Lyonel is leaning against the locked door, whistling another 20th century pop tune.
Sir, we've received a reply from Sec. He has forwarded the schematics for the ventilation system and has also warned us of anti-nanotech security devices installed within it. Direct Action security devices, sir.
---
Gen waits for a reply from Sec, staring down the man with the rifle. His breath is loud in his ears and his helmet's glass front is fogged. Tan is propped up against the bulkhead nearby, still unconscious. Gerrad begins ranting something on the open channel and then the distinct sound of a booted foot connecting with Gerrad's gut broadcast ends his speech.
Man, if Sec doesn't get back to us soon, we are fucked. Never been a big fan of people who make their points with the business end of a gun, y'know?
"Based on my calculations there is a high percentage chance that they are either security, or they are insurgents. If they identify themselves as and meet the descriptions of the security personnel I have sent you, I recommend you surrender to them, explain your presence, and warn them about those injured within, and my presence here in the airlock. If they are not the security personnel you have two options. Surrender yourself and leave Dr.Tan behind if you believe that they will not harm you or Gerrad until the security team arrives, or escape and hide yourself if you believe that your and Gerrad's morph death is inevitable."
Yeah, definitely, man. Where the hell have these guys been this whole time?
Gen very slowly raises his hands. "Look, either you're here to kill me which gives me no reason to comply, or you're not here to kill me which would mean letting your homicidal tendencies run rampant would be very bad for your career options. Either way, I'm gonna stay right here for the moment, and calmly ask you to identify yourselves. Emphasis on calmly. Let's all be real cool now."
Jo shakes her head. "Hold off, you jack." She leans forward into the hole. "Fulmis, is that you? Jesus, get your ass out here. What are you even doing in there? You know it's off limits." She braces against the bulkhead and reaches a hand into the breach. "Come on now, take my hand. Let's get you back to base."
Augustus briefly considers recent developments in anti-nanotech security and what the most logical precautions to take would be before turning to Lyonel.
"Well, old chap, looks like my superior flexibility will allow me to make my way to the core. Is there anything I should know before I head off?"
After Lyonel tells him anything he needs to know, he'll take whatever precautions necessary to deal with the security, squeeze himself into the hole, and try to navigate toward the core using the schematics.
Henri Emmanuel Gratien St Pierre in Where No Man Has Gone Before
Lord Augustus Cumberbatch in Eclipse Phase
Well, I suppose I can just let Gen handle this for now. Hopefully he isn't a double agent working for another hypercorp or something. Wouldn't that be fun. So Tarn, have you received any updates from Augustus or Sec?
The tactical subroutine generates a model of the airlock door. According to the t-wave generated map of its interior workings, the door should give enough to release pressure without violence... here.
With a loud bang, the airlock cabin depressurizes as all of the air in the room is forced out of the tiny break in the airlock seal. Sec locks his manipulator arms and braces himself against the fierce wind created. After a few seconds it calms and the subroutine gives him the go-ahead to open the door.
|NON-OPTIMAL SITUATION DETECTED|GENERATING SOLUTIONS NOW|
---
Lyonel watches with a mixture of admiration and disgust from his seat on the floor. After five minutes of squeezing, squelching, and other general awkwardnesses, Cumberbatch finally manages to fit his deformable body into the minuscule space provided by the vent. With agonizing slowness, he shifts his mass forward, deeper into the shaft. Having deactivated his various nanomachinery and augmentations, Wellington estimates that it'll take four to six minutes of steady progress to reach the computer core.
As Cumberbatch pushes further, there's an odd banging noise from somewhere in the base. It sounds almost like someone kicking a door.
It was not, to his mind, better news than Jo's change of demeanor, but it was good news. Possibly hostile and definitely expendable was an easier set of variables to deal with, which just left the mystery of the individual(s) inside. Possibly Fulmis, which made it likely any other were team members, and all possibly compromised by the artifact--but also more likely than his current group to be able to reestablish communications.
Let's address the masses, shall we?
The sound of a clearing throat washes over the comm channels, "If we're done measuring dicks--and I do think in this matchup of 'Shirts' vs. 'MilSpec Hardware,' my team can chalk this up as a win--then can we all calm down a bit? The fact that team Shirts is still alive should be testament enough to the fact that we are here in an official capacity, and I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone," he pauses to turn his visor in Gen's direction, "that our employer would take less offense at us shooting unarmed possible V.I.P.s than us allowing unidentified people to wander around a recently breached, highly secure site containing proprietary and classified... things. In addition," another pause, this time shooting Pendarski a look she can likely feel, rather than see, "it's relatively unlikely that if you weren't authorized to be here, you'd be as underdressed as you are, and so you should be in little enough trouble once we verify your identity. Now let's get this moving, we have things to do today."
This is... incredibly stressful. Vox, play something soothing. Low volume.
---
Jo takes your arm as you crawl out and helps you to your feet. "God, Fulmis," she says, "You really had me worried. Thought we were going to have to go room-by-room taking this place back." She takes a look at the state of your suit. "You look like hell. What happened in there? Are you hurt?" As she's speaking, Reynolds is waving Dillon forward to help him haul Tan's body out. Pendarski gesticulates and says something on the squad's private channel and Jo turns back to you. "This a friend of yours?" She points at Gerrad, still prostrate.
Nice choice, Vox.
Pendarski grunts and steps off Gerrad's back, then leans over and lifts him bodily to his feet. "You wanna file a complaint?" Her voice is husky and deep, that of a fury morph's. Her size and strength attest to that as well. She looks over to where Gen and Jo are speaking and then back to you. "So what the hell happened in there?"
Dillon begins to walk over to Reynolds and happens to look up again. The sheet of rock leaning against the dome has begun to slide forward again, raising a cloud of dust as it goes. It looks to have detached from the side of the ravine and is rapidly on its way to crush Reynolds.
---
Sec lights up the tunnel with infrared light, scanning it in all frequencies. Empty, as expected. The beacons are transmitting from about two hundred meters further down, around a bend.
As the dust settles and the team picks themselves off the ground, you can see that a great flat shard of stone has neatly blocked the hole in the dome. Reynolds sits up. "Oh shit! Tan was in there!" Jo, walking stiffly, kicks a few rocks out of the way and then stops. She bends over slowly and then picks something up off the ground with both of her hands. "Yeah... about that." She brings it around for everyone to see. It's Tan's helmet... and there's a lot of blood. "She's still in it... well, the part that matters, anyway." She presses a button on the helmet and the neck seals itself shut, then she clips it to her belt. "Well, I guess that's a project for later. Let's head back to base. Gen, you and your friend can enlighten us to what exactly is in that damn dome."
---
Cumberbatch edged around a corner slowly.
We're about halfway there, sir. Your body is holding up beautifully. Oh... Mr. Sark is requesting a communications link. I'll connect the two of you.
"Hey, Cumberbatch. How's it going in there?"
"Tentacles? Was she fooling around with the artifact, or was she just... into that sort of thing," he asks, his voice filled with residual amusement.
---
Yolanda switches to her private channel. "Alright, Pendarski, Reynolds, you lead the way. Dillon and I will guard the new arrivals. No telling what the hell they were doing in that dome, so keep on your toes."
---
Pendarski suddenly lopes off in the low gravity and Reynolds, still shaking the dust off his helmet, follows. Jo and Dillon hang back with you. Jo sidles up to Gen.
Uh, Gen? This Yolanda chick wants to open a private channel. You cool with that?
---
Sec casts his spotlights over the dark tunnel. There are a pair of workmen already here, digging frantically at the rubble. One of them turns at the light. They freeze and then their companion turns as well. You focus the lights on them and read their nametags. JACKSON and QUINCE. The troublemakers from before.
There's a moment while they're trying various communications channels, trying to talk to you. You finally tune your ecto-subroutine to the work channel. "-rapped under it! You have to help!" The voice is harsh, rasped raw in the dry air of her suit's rebreather. Jackson steps forward. "Please! They're our friends!" Quince shakes his head. "Jackson..." Jackson twists and grabs the shoulders of his suit. "They're not dead!"
|WORKER A.JACKSON ASSESSMENT IS CORRECT|WORKER AIR SUPPLY BASED ON ESTIMATES OF WORKER REBREATHER CAPACITY AND SCRUBBER CAPABILITY AS WELL AS RECENT REPAIR REPORTS: ONE HOUR| AIR SUPPLY WILL EXPIRE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES ACCORDING TO ESTIMATE|
---
Sure thing, buddy.
"Hey, Fulmis. Are you all right? You're acting... weird." Jo's simulated voice, modulated by her emotional state, is softer than the bark she used to command her team. Vox idly ticks off personality traits indicated by the change in tone.
Sounds like affection, pal. You've been getting up to stuff without me?
|SCANNING ON ALL EM FREQUENCIES...|SCAN FINISHED|ELEVEN HUMAN MORPHS ARE UNDER THE RUBBLE WITHIN A HOLLOW FORMED BY AN OVERARCHING WALL|ALL ARE STILL TRANSMITTING ON THE EMERGENCY CHANNEL|RUBBLE IS MOVABLE BUT RISKS FURTHER COLLAPSE|
"Aren't you going to do something?" Jackson's voice is high-pitched, full of terror and stress.
|IF RUBBLE IS MOVED IMPROPERLY: PROBABILITY OF CURRENTLY-INHABITED CHAMBER COLLAPSING IS 79%|IF COLLAPSE OCCURS: PROBABILITY OF A.JACKSON AND C.QUINCE EXPIRING 94%|PROBABILITY OF IRREPARABLE DAMAGE OCCURRING TO OUR FRAME 82%|