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Moore smacks the door control and quickly steps back. A moment passes
in silence. He tries the door again, and at last it responds. The
same slow, unwilling separation from the wall. A sliver of darkness
probed by the marines' shoulder lamps. Another narrow corridor
running roughly along the axis of the ship, this one lined with doors.
Morrison moves inside, practically shoved from behind by Moore and
Berliner. He scans to the right, spotting a hatch leading to the
cargo bay a short distance away. To the left, past other portals, is
a door. Faintly visible on its rust-colored surface is the single
word, BRIDGE.
Cold shivers have given way to slick palms and sweat-soaked brows in
the warmer crew area. Patwardhan takes a few moments to gulp from her
canteen, satisfied that the team's in no immediate danger. Standing
alone in the open space in the center of the rec room, she hears, or
thinks she hears, a noise, carried down the long central corridor
leading back to the APC and their point of entry.
A voice? Someone calling? It fades as quickly as it had arrived, and
in the heart-stopping silence, Patwardhan wonders if she heard
anything at all. The rest of her team has moved deeper into the crew
section. Her single beam of light seems ineffective against the fog,
and she senses the darkness enveloping around her.
PFC BERLINER
"After you, sweets," offers the driver-turned-rifleman. He waits for
Morrison to take the point position moving toward the bridge. He
keeps his eye out for trouble and tries to keep his hands to himself.
Berliner's been known to get greedy and begin exploring if unchecked.
PFC PATWARDHAN
"Did you guys hear something?" Aishwarya asks nervously as she
glances around her.
Suddenly her rear guard action has gone from being merely stressful
to being rather unsettling. Now, even more than before, she hustles
to keep up with her squad mates, nearly tripping over her feet in her
effort to walk backwards as fast as she can, all the while scanning
the shadows behind her.
Patwardhan makes it safely back in formation behind Moore along the central corridor, feeling a little better. Safety in numbers or something.
SGT MOORE
When Moore notices Patwardhan falling into place behind him, he
says, "Nice of you to join us, Doc. You look like you've seen a
ghost." He makes sure he isn't jabbing anyone too hard in the back
with his pulse rifle. "Take it nice and easy, troopers."
He makes sure there aren't any open doors or obstructions along the
way. If the way is clear, he'll order PFC Morrison and PFC Berliner
to get the hatch to the bridge open.
The corridor is clear straight through to the bridge, and all of
the doors along the way are sealed. On infrared, one of the doors far
up along the right side shows up as pure black. As the squad
approaches, it becomes clear that this is the inner hatch of the
airlock that was gaping wide open on the outside.
As Berliner passes the airlock controls, he spots weakly-shining red
light on the panel indicating that there's negative pressure in the
airlock. He sees that he can probably seal the outer door with only a
few keystrokes.
Moore doesn't give him the opportunity.
SGT MOORE
Pushing the squad ahead, just wanting to get to the bridge as soon as
possible, Sergeant Moore tries to contact Bravo squad. "Brimstone,
come back. Do you read me?"
He waits for a reply.
And gets one. Brimstone reports that they're hanging back checking a computer terminal near the starboard cargo hatch.
Shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes.
When he feels like the situation's secure, he orders Berliner to open
the door, and has Morrison cover the entry. As always, he wants Patwardhan keeping an eye down the corridor behind them, just in case something nasty wants to sneak up on them.
PFC BERLINER
Berliner checks the motion tracker before following orders.
Tracker might as well be off with all the good it's been. It's
reading zilch at the moment.
Since everything's clear, he steadies himself and opens the door.
PFC PATWARDHAN
Patwardhan looks around nervously. This corridor is a bit more
comfortable, but still, all those closed doors make her nervous. Of
course, open doors would probably be just as nerve-wracking.
"Sergeant, would it be a good idea to close the outer airlock door?"
she asks. "I just don't like the idea of having only the inner door
between me and explosive decompression. It'll just take a second."
If given the go-ahead by the sergeant, she keys in the command to
close the outer door on the keypad.
SGT MOORE
He tells Patwardhan, "Don't touch anything." Turning to the troops in
front of him, he says, "Berliner, open that door."
PFC MORRISON
Morrison, bored, nervous, and wired all at the same time, shifts
uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Back up. Give me some space." He
sets himself firmly in point, in from of the soon-to-be-opened door
(he hopes) and lets the void encompass him, and smiles.
He levels the flamer and rests it casually against his hip. If
anything's going to happen, he'll know, and it doesn't take a rocket
scientist to operate this hunk of metal. Sidling at point, he takes
stock of his surroundings and offers Patwardhan a grim little smile
behind him. "Now, if these yahoos decide who's gonna open the
door..." he mumbles inaudibly. Just waitin', Morrison muses. Merely
chilling. Waitin' for the moment when the shit goes down.
PFC BERLINER
"Everybody stand clear." Berliner flips the switch that opens the
bridge hatch.
The bridge door moves open, flooding the corridor in red
emergency lighting. The bridge is arranged with several command
stations facing forward. The place is jammed with equipment: several
monitors on the navigation console display the Korea's current
position. Another shows a starfield.
Berliner waits for Morrison to check it out before moving in
himself. "Where the fuck is everybody?" he asks, moving past one
empty chair after another. Little mementos can be found at the
individual stations: a pack of cigarettes, a coffee cup, a lenticular
photo of a friend or family member at some Earthside amusement park.
Crash helmets sit atop some of the stations.
SGT MOORE
"One down. One to go," says Sarge, hardly taking the time to move
into the bridge before thinking about moving on to cryogenics. He
calls to Bravo squad to update them on the status.
"Berliner, see if you can pull up a schematic of the crew section.
Let's see if we can take a direct route downstairs without opening
every door in the place. Better yet, try to find out if the crew's in
stasis or not.
"Patwardhan, Morrison: pair up and find us a stairwell or ladder or
something down to C deck, but don't go exploring too much."
PFC PATWARDHAN
Upon being reminded about the cryo bays, Patwardhan gets more
focused. "If the crew isn't awake, and we haven't found them yet,
they're probably in cryo. Unless... Wait a minute." Her eyes light
up. "Sergeant Moore," she almost yells, excited about her
revelation. "What if there was some kind of emergency that caused the
crew to abandon ship? Were there any lifeboats launched, or could
another ship have picked up the crew?"
Moore shrugs.
She thinks more about this and follows the thought along to her next
revelation. "What if the ship was boarded while the crew was in cryo?
Someone may have..." She suddenly focuses again. "We need to get to
the cryo bay. I'm sure some answers will be in there!" She starts
hunting for the access to the cryo bay, with the energy of discovery
that seems to have overridden her previous nervousness.
Before Brimstone has the opportunity to object, her troops begin cracking open the nearest door, ignoring standard procedure and worse, placing themselves in danger. The bridge awaits at the end of the hall, but there are a number of doors along the way. This one emits a piercing squeal as it slides away.
At first glance, the walls of the room appear to be lined with
complicated-looking machinery. Bright metal shavings shine like
diamonds all over the floor. Sturdy hinges on a wall-mounted
appliance suggest some kind of tool-making function. In the far
corner of the room, on a grubby white countertop next to a welder's
mask, a computer monitor glows. A fuzzy horizontal bar runs from the
bottom of the screen to the top, and loops back around again. Dead
end.
PVT VITELLI
Looking at the empty machine shop, Vitelli goes back out to the
narrow hallway. He looks at the motion tracker, checking for any
beeps.
Negative. So what else is new?
"Shit, man. This place is dead. Brimstone, what's the next move?" As
he waits for an answer, Vitelli leans back against the steel wall.
The heavy weight all over his body has made him a little tired. Sweat
pours down from his forehead and travels down his face.
CPL BRIMSTONE
Since what's done is done, Brimstone shrugs and calls out, "Vitelli,
while we're here, let's check it out. I want you to check the
computer. See if you can access ship's logs from here or not. If so,
do it. If not, let's not waste too much time, at least not any more
than we have to.
"Booths, go inside with Vitelli and watch his back. Check the room
out for any clues as to what happened to the crew. McKenzie and I
will keep watch out here in the hall. Move it, people. Let's not
stand around here all day!"
PVT VITELLI
"Gotcha," Vitelli says. He lets go of his pulse rifle, letting it
hang around his neck and under arm freely. He reaches behind his back
and pulls out his electronics case. Walking over to the computer
terminal and kneeling down, Vitelli opens his electronics case.
The keyboard is unresponsive. The screen
continues to scroll its dead picture. He taps a few keys, tries the
ON/OFF switch. The computer clicks off, and comes back on, showing a
blank screen. If he's going to get anywhere with this one, he's going
to have to spend a few minutes physically cracking it open and
feeding it power. To make it tougher, the computer's built right into
the countertop. And even if he does get it working, he doesn't know
if it'll access the mainframe or the mission logs. In fact, he's got
the feeling that it's a limited terminal used to control other
devices in the machine shop. A place you go to type in what part you
need.
On a ship like this, you need to be able to produce your own spare
parts, just like having a spare tire in your trunk in case of a flat.
You couldn't rebuild an engine with the machinery in here, but you
could replace or repair almost any small part that happens to break
or malfunction. No complicated electronics, and only simple moving
parts, like gears or hinges.
There are coils of electrical cabling hanging on the walls, and
several heavy-looking metal toolboxes sitting near the door. The shop
is untidy and cluttered in general. This stuff might come in useful
if the ship's in as bad shape as it appears. Booths spots something
on the floor among other debris that makes his hair stand on end: a
spent shotgun shell.
Out in the hallway, Brimstone and McKenzie are covering their end.
Everything looks clear. They can hear Sergeant Moore announcing that
his team has reached one of the doors to the bridge and that they're
proceeding inside. McKenzie notices something tempting up ahead: an
accordion-style double doorset at the end of the corridor is open.
PVT MCKENZIE
McKenzie braces his smartgun in one hand and with his other grabs the
canteen from his belt. He spins the cap off and takes a swig of
water, but what he's really trying to do is distract Brimstone from
his real intent: getting a better look at that set of accordion doors
about 10 meters down the corridor.
At this angle and distance, he can't make out any useful details, but
the doors make him nervous. All the other doors on this deck are
sealed. If someone wanted to spring an ambush, they'd waste precious
seconds and nearly all of the element of surprise in opening them.
But the accordian doors are ajar. They're angled so that McKenzie
can't make out what's inside, and the squad has no choice but to walk
right by them on their way to the bridge. It piques his curiosity and
suspicion, and if there's one thing his brief time in the Marine
Corps has taught him, it's to not ignore your instincts.
For a moment, McKenzie hesitates to say anything, fearing the others
will dismiss him as having a case of the newbie-nerves. Finally,
practicality overrides his pride. If it is an ambush, it'll be
McKenzie who eats the brunt of the attack. Bad if it's just some guy
with a knife; catastrophic if it's some kind of explosive or tracker-
mounted weapon. He'd be cut to ribbons.
He walks a few steps toward Brimstone and cups his hand over his
microphone, not wanting to cause undue panic among the others. "Hey,
corp. Could just be the heebie-jeebies, but out of all these doors,
only those ones over there," he says, gesturing to the accordion
doors, "are open. I'm sure it's a supply closet, but if I wanted to
kill some badass marines, I think that would be as good a place as
any to try."
PVT VITELLI
"Son of a bitch!" Vitelli yells out loud to himself. He stands up and
walks out to the hallway to catch Brimstone. "Man, I can't get shit
on the comp. This whole ship is fucking dead, man." He goes back into
the machine shop before Brimstone can answer him.
He starts to unhook his equipment and puts everything neatly back. He
swings his rifle around and goes back to the hallway. "I say we get
moving and meet up with Moore. We're already cut off from the command
group. No need to be cut off from Moore and his squad. So what's the
move, Brimstone?" he says. There seems to be a little annoyance in
his voice.
PFC BOOTHS
Booths simply follows along, letting his reactions work on automatic,
covering his squad mates with a naturalness born of many paranoid
missions.
He sniffs once, not at all feeling well. Paddy will have to check him
out for flu when he gets back to the Gaines. He takes Mac's nervous
behavior in stride, as well as Vitelli's outburst.
He's convinced it's a dead ship. How dead? That's what they're here
to find out. "We should move out. Mac is right. We shouldn't get too
sidetracked." Booths moves back to the doors, his gait easy, springy
and balanced. "C'mon, Stone. They ain't paying us by the hour."
Sgt. Moore's voice comes through on the comm. "Brimstone, we're
at the bridge. No sign of the crew here. We're going to try to find a
way down to cryo on C deck. You found anything yet?"
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