By SCSPIEKER - Dec. 31, 1969 Fenix looks up and down for motion sensors aboard the Gaines, but these seem to be locked behind some kind of data firewall. That will take some work. Video and audio easy enough to find. He begins to feed various stations and camera emplacements into the APC. It's a big ship, with over seventy stations. It's going to take you several minutes to flip through them all, listen and watch long enough to see if anything's out of place. So far, the rooms he's been showed have been empty, dark, and quiet. Sato takes Fenix's suggestion to check for the Gaines' network for a link to the Korea. A few quick keystrokes later, and they've got it. Looks like the Korea's suffered some outages, big brownouts, blind spots in the datastream. That's another mess entirely, and Sato knows it's going to take time to get anything out of the mind bank without frying the whole system. It's on fragile legs as it is. All this hack sh*t takes time. Hours, in most cases, to get what you want. The vast amounts of data to be processed to get anything specifically useful is the job for a bot program, and writing those takes time too. Booths looks like he's suited up and ready to blast some aliens into space. Alex matter-of-factly shows the rest of the team unfamiliar with the ins and outs of the M41A pulse rifle. Reload, cock, fire switches, the launcher, everything but how to field strip it. The APC's proximity alert screams in the tight confines of the compartment, echoing out through the open door and bouncing around the dark emptiness beyond. "What in Hubbard's name is that?" says officer Stewart, leaning his head through the portal. Fenix and Sato are all over it, trying to find out what they've pressed, what they might have accidentally triggered. They've got quite a few screens to choose from. Beaudreaux is the one to catch it. On the topographical map, a single bright blue dot makes its way from the rear of the Korea, coming straight toward them. Moving several meters per second through the empty cargo staging area direcly behind the APC. Fifty meters and closing. "I don't see anything," says Mnumbu, staring out into the dark. His shotgun held at the shoulder. "Hey!" he shouts, as both of the sentry guns twist to face the new arrival. Footsteps can be heard, like someone running. A raw, young voice cries out: "...elp!... Help me!... Help..." Ah yes, that sense of all pervading doom... Posted by Booths on December 24, 2000 at 18:52:56 A final lock snaps into place, securing the Smartgun to Booths in a final 'clink'. "Someone open me that door." He doesn't bother cocking the Smartgun. He hand't sescured the saftey when he dropped it. Right now Booths looks more like a machine then human. The armoured breastplate has a biohazard outlined on it. The optical receptor is clamped over his eye, and the gun itself swings easily on the gyro- mounted arm. "And someone grab some flares." [Levenson] Never in his life did Ted Levenson truly appreciate the fineries of instinctual behavior as he did right now. He was a BA, a Harvard grad student, a rational, 22nd century ultra-modern man in every way. But as soon as all that weird sh*t started going down, the old animal responses kicked in, and he made like a startled rabbit. No plans, no strategy, no assessment of the situation-at-hand, just the single- minded impulse to run away as fast as his legs could carry him. He wasn't sure who screamed first. Was it Weber? He hoped not. He'd always kind of liked Weber. Of course, there was no way in hell he was going to stay to figure it out. Not with those...things everywhere. Like they came right out of the f*cking walls. Almost got him, too. But somehow, he did it. He was spared. He'd managed to blindly find his way to a lift, and despite horror-movie logic and his own disastrous luck, nothing was inside waiting for him. Now, racing full- tilt toward the armored vehicle, Levenson is feeling most vulnerable, like the God of Irony has decided to smite him by sending some beast from the shadows to devour him mere seconds before he reaches sanctuary. "Help..." he yells at the figures, hoping they realize that he's human, and not one of THEM." Help me!...help!" [Sato] Sato stands up from the computer console and follows Booths to the door of the APC. He glances at the topological map once more on his way out, verifying that it still shows only a single figure. "Sounds like the science team got sick of waiting for our rescue and decided to find us. One of them at least.", he comments. "Unless there were others in cryo on this ship that weren't mentioned before. Anything we need to know?". Sato fixes his eyes on Booths but his mind keeps asking the question he really doesn't want to deal with right now. What happened to get the guy outside so worked up? [Fenix] Figuring if anyone came running this way, then they probably brought company, "Help get what lights we can turned on out there Sato. Need to show what's goin on." That said I work on doing both that, and trying to get video of the area that the idjut just came running FROM. Not sure of the layout of the ship, I can't really check more than what the camera's will show until I have a floor plan. I also try and make a firmer connection between the APC and Rodina so I can use their comm-center to try and monitor the situation on-board. Really need to know where the creeps are located to know where to avoid when we come out here. Fenix is using the complex connection to relay commands from the APC to the Gaines, using the military vessel to patch into the Korea in a way that the APC is not directly. It's slightly surreal to flick a switch in here, and watch the overhead lamps in the vast cargo area begin to glow softly around them. In the sudden brightness of the place, they can all see just how vast the room really is. This space where the APC is parked is just a tiny bulb at the end of a huge long room. Huge blocky doors line the walls, and except for an exoskeleton loader and two heavy flatbed trucks about midway down the chamber, the polished floor is totally bare. At the far end, like a green-and-gray butterfly, sits the dropship, still perched on the elevator platform. The massive rails along which the elevator hauls itself up form a black framework for the sleek metal aerospace vehicle. The dorsal airlock's inner hatch, thirty meters wide, is situated directly above the elevator, clearly marked for light-duty shuttle transfers only. Patwardhan carefully steps out of the APC, walking toward Levenson. A flamethrower hangs from her shoulder. She pushes back one of his eyelids with her cold grimy thumb. "He'll be all right," she announces. "That's a long way to walk," she says, taking an interest in the dropship itself. "Let's drive there." Slowly, she hobbles back to the APC. One of the officers knows Levenson, had a conversation with him at the canteen while watching a static-marred tape of Brisbane losing to Madrid in the '68 World Cup. Jay Stewart is about Levenson's age, dedicated to his profession, as Levenson is. It turned out that Steward had relatives in Levenson's hometown, although they had never met before serving on Rodina. Now Stewart remembers him, and says with genuine concern. "You okay? Tell us what happened." [Levenson] Levenson clenches his fists and takes several deep breaths, trying to dissipate the remaining panic. Despite being inside this armored vehicle, flanked by security officers and a couple of marines, Levenson still can't quite feel safe. His hands are shaking uncontrollably, and his eyes dart around, fixing on every shadow and dark corner of his surroundings. "Uh, well, we were all down on the lower deck, kind of waiting for things to blow over up here, and then they just...appeared. There were fifteen, maybe twenty of them. I didn't really see much. The lights were still pretty low. I don't know who got taken, or if anyone else made it out. When I heard the screaming start, I just ran." Levenson's voice begans to tremble at the memories. He clenches his jaw and rocks back and forth, his arms wrapped around his chest, struggling to stave off another anxiety attack. [Fenix] Taking my hands off the controls, I look over at Patwardhan "Why should we go to the dropship?" While waiting for her answer, I listen to whatever Levenson has to say. "Nevermind," she tells him. But knowing that he'll need at least a vague idea, she adds, "There's stuff over there that we need. Nukes. For a back-up plan. Just in case." [Fenix] "Now that's something that makes at least a little sense...though Rodina'll take a nasty beating if those go off..." Turning back to the controls, I look to see if I can figure out where the steering wheel is, let alone if I'll be able to drive this behemoth. I don't actually try to move it yet, just finding the landmarks for the steering/power systems. [Schabowski] "You mean blowing them off on Rodina? Well, then there'll be no Rodina any more. The hull won't stand it. And with over dwo hundred souls onboard... But I agree, it might be the only way. For now though let's think about something less... drastic" - Chris takes a look at the controls - "Let me handle this, Fenix. I used to drive such things before. A little, but it should be enough. [Sato] "Hold on a second, I'm waiting here.", replies Sato as he looks at the others. "From what Levenson just said, there might be other survivors who need our help. If we aren't going to go down and look for them then some of us can at least wait here to see if any other survivors make their way up. Come get me after you make the necessary preparations for your backup plan." Sato then makes his way for the door for the APC and steps out, taking a few flares before he leaves. (change this if there aren't any in the APC) Sato activates the motion detector again and holds it in the direction Levenson came from, looking for movement. [Fenix] Looking towards Sato, "While we came in after them, you heard what he said, there's no way anyone else lived. We should all stick together, unless we HAVE to split, and we don't have to split right now. Get the motion sensor working, and see if you can pick anything else up down below." [Gonzales] "What he said," mentioned Alex as he tossed his head towards Fenix, although he was addressing Sato. "I'd get your narrow keister back in here if I were you, man. Something might bite it off out there." [Booths] At the moment, Booths looked more machine then man. The targeting receptacle bracketed his right eye, feeding him targeting information as the M56 Smartgun swept the area. The heavy weapon didn't move like it was a part of him, it was very much an extension of Booths. He'd never taken to the dry and impersonal way of handling the Smartgun, never following the set procedures for moving and aiming. Instead, he named the first M56 he ever got the ######, because they could be muley ######s and were tempramental as all hell if not treated right. What he developed had a more organic feel to it, quite unlike what the instructors had taught him and Mackenzie in what seemed an eon ago. He simply stood as would a sentinel, the barrel of the ###### moving with uncanny ease. The gyros purred, and rememebered when Mac, Morrison and him were putting together the gear in the armoury. "Payback time." though said below his breath, the words carried eerily on an errant breeze, reaching the ears of the makeshift team. "I'm going where the twerps got hit." [Fenix] Hearing Booth's statement of going down to where the twerps got hit, I call back "Whoa now soldier. Hold up for the rest of the team, if you're dead set on going down there." Finishing aquiring what information I can from the APC's systems, and turning on whatever lights I can, I look to Patwardhan "Can you add the rest of us into the 'command structure' of the system for purposes of locking and unlocking the system? And the door." [Sato] Sato stares at Booths a moment, searching the one eye that is still visible for something. He looks for the spark in Booths' eye that will tell him Booths is still planning on coming back after he gets the payback he has been searching for. "Booths, if you're going, I'll sight them for you.", he says quietly, almost able to keep the nervousness from his voice. Sato still hasn't found the spark he was looking for but knows Booths won't go down without a hell of a fight. 'Better come up with your own contingency plan in case this is a one way trip, Sato, you're not ready to die yet,' he thinks to himself sullenly as he waits for Booth's response. [Healy] Healy walks over to stand beside Sato, "I have to say I agree with these two... if we leave these things running around on here and on the Gaines, it's only a matter of time before everyone... us and those on the Rodina, are ######ed." Healy grabs one of the discarded flak jackets and slips it on, feeling a little more comfortable despite wearing little more then useless weight. [Booths] Booths chuckles. It is not a pleasant sound. Then he nods. He seems to be totally ignoring Fenix and the newly arrived egghead. "Make peace with whatever god you follow; put together a last will and testament. Chances are we're gonna buy the farm." He seemed to breathe in deeply. "But today is a good day to die. And an even better day to kill." He turned his whole body, twsting around would quiet probably have opened the wound at his side. "Weapon check! Anyone out to kick some ass and go out with a bang make sure you're packing." He twists his head to look at Sato. "That includes you Sato. Even if its only a bullet for yourself." Booths laboured under no illusions. "Patty, you comming along, or gonna ride shotgun in this heap of junk?" He kicked the side of the APC for emphasis. He was dead one way or another. He'd go down fighting either way, because he wouldn't dance to 'Danny Deever'(*), and he sure as hell wasn't going stand still for a firing squad. (*: 'Danny Deever' is the title of the song that used to be played at military hangings.) [Fenix] Seeing everyone filing in to join Booths, I curse vehemently under my breath before taking another 'pain' reliever. "These might help you too, Booths. Want one?" as I finish checking what can be checked through the APC, "Dang I'm gonna hate leaving this thing behind...it'd be a nice outpost to work from, sometimes." Hefting the pulserifle, I check the clip, and the ammo indicator before saying "Alright, let's get it the he*l over with, Booth. I've got a turkey in the oven back on Rodina." [Levenson] Finally snapping out of his fear-induced haze, Levenson finally realizes what's going on all around him. His jaw drops at the suggestion that they go down to the lower deck. "Uhh, excuse me," Levenson pipes in, sheepishly raising his hand to get their attention," someone IS going to stay here, right? Someone with a gun?" [Fenix] Looking at the twirp "If I'm risking my a$$ to save your playpals who came down here out of sheer dumba$$ery, then you sure as he*l are leading the way to show us where they were. Enjoy. Sato, wanna show the kid how to use the motion sensor?" Smiling at Booths, I wait for his arguement. [Levenson] Listening to the officer's argument, Levenson's fear gives way to indignation. He gets up off the floor and flashes a hard expression at the cop. "Listen, pal, I'm just an intern, okay? I do what I'm told. I dind't really want to come down here in the first place, but when the department heads say jump, it's my job to say how high? I mean, I've got a thesis to finish." [Fenix] Smiling back at the boy, even if he is my age, "Ah, how cute, such enthusiasm for his job. Move your butt tech boy, and maybe you'll finish your thesis after all. Then when you get out, you can brag to your precious department head about how you saved what was left of the group he sent on a suicide mission, and get yourself a wee little raise." [Booths] Booths was having none of it. For a few moments he listened to the fed-tough and the button-pusher swap repartee. The he did something by virtue of simple expediency. He swung and swiveled the Smartgun at Levenson. The harsh click of the safety echoed briefly in their metallic confines. "This is a computer targeting assisted heavy infantry support weapon. It has IR capabilities and auto-tracking. It fires a 10mm AP delayed HEAT round. This means that if I press the trigger, you'll need an electron microscope to sort out the bits that are you from the mist of red vapour that will be floating where you stand." Booths smiles grimly. Once more, it was not pleasant. "So you got a choice, intern. Lead; or save your parents the cost of a messy funeral." The barrel of the M56 didn't hover, didn't move, simply aimed at Levenson's chest. The truly funny thing is, people never expect Booths to follow through on his threats. They either just think he's bloody well weird, aught to be put in a straight jacket, and jettisoned with a trajectory for the nearest sun. Up until the point where they ate a foot of sharpened steel; or they thought that he is the social marvel of the century, and couldn't possibly mean those insults and death threats he had just uttered. But one thing remained fact. No one except for those that knew him best, and they were mostly all dead, and himself, knew that he meant every word once he'd uttered it. [Fenix] Can't help but chuckle a bit at Booths statements, all the while moving back a bit to be sure he's not in a line of fire between the psychopath and the sitting duck. [Levenson] In the moment that the embattled marine leveled his very large, very dangerous weapon at him, The world around Levenson faded out and drifted away. The barrel of the gun filled his reality, excluding all else. He was vaguely aware of the holder of the weapon speaking to him, though the words to him was an incoherent drone barely audible over the rushing thud of his heartbeat in his ears. All he knew was that, whatever the man was saying, Levenson had no choice but to agree. Finally noticing that the droning of the man had stopped, Levenson nodded, transfixed. Though he had no precise understanding of what he'd just agreed to, he had a sinking feeling it involved returning to he lower level which he had just fled. [Gonzales] Alex couldn't help the surprised expression on his face after finishing up his impromptu lesson to the others on how to use the pulse rifles. As Levenson nodded, he shrugged, adjusting the weight of his gear and slipping the last two grenades out of his ammo satchel and stuffing them into one of the large pockets of his cargo- handler's suit. He moved right next to the door, then half-turned to Booths. "If we're gonna do this, let's do it before I lose my nerve." [Booths] Booths raised the Smartgun to the soft hiss of the weapons' hydraulics. The grin he wore showed no teeth, had no humour in it, and seemed to inspire the kind of response someone keeps reserved for sharks and lawyers. Then he seems to remember something. His scrim was still in the APC. "Coming through. And Gonzo?" He turned his head to the tech-come- marine from the threshold of the APC. "You still got nerves?" With that the grinning smartgunner ducked into the vehicle, and after some tight maneuvering and stooping down, lifted the scrim from where he had dropped it. He locked the gyro and hydraulics, letting the arm support the heavy weapon as he tied the scrim cloth into a pirate like bandana. He was almost whole again.