View source for 5270/Beware The Blurb

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/05/23
|Location=Sector Zero - Space
|Synopsis=A ship is in trouble! And only.. every faction there is can save it! Sort of. Well, most of it. Okay, just the personnel. BEWARE THE BLURB.
|Cast of Characters=1115, 1117, 1111, 685, 930
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>CentCom; A simple name for what is effectively a floating megacity, as if someone had taken New York and rolled it into the universe's largest gun barrel. A curiously shaped world habitat, atmosphere maintained by simply building walls high enough and spinning the cylinder fast enough - with some 'skyscrapers' actually forming connecting spires, massive structures that are simply spiderwebs when viewed from the outside. This 'megacity' is its own thriving ecosystem, with its slums, its highs, its riches and its poors. You could practically snatch someone out of modern Earth and throw them in to the middle districts; Beyond some acclimation to the horizon going -up- and the sky filled with ant movement of distant vehicles, they'd feel right at home. The real high tech is for the rich, after all, including the gateways in the heavier trafficed areas.<br><br>But this story isn't about the city of CentCom. Nor is it about the billions who crawl inside it's surface, like a giant York Burrito. No, this is about what is happening just beyond - a ship that burns. The NT Briar, a curious amalgation of federal power and corporate ownership, a cerebus of command structure between Research, Fleet, and civillian contractors. And for the most part it works well; Everyone sticks to their own decks and color codes, and the creaking structure moves from system to system. But this time? This time, something has gone wrong. The ship is listing, slowly falling towards CentCom. The city's big enough that they'd hardly notice the blip, but it'll still result in thousands hurt. Not to mention the crew itself, a blasting cacophony of pleading messages for help, demands for assistance, and general coordination attempts that have utterly failed. They also appear to be growing some mold along one edge. At least, it looks like mold from this distance.<br><br>The rescue response is haphhazard at best, like a ship at sea listing into dock. Small three man maintenance vessels are sent spiraling upwards to try and slow the spin. Amateur glory seekers strapping on easily available public 'void suits' to go leaping into space - most of them missing and left floating until the emergency's over. They're not hurt, after all, and they've got plenty of air with High Tech Mix Compression Techniques. A few of the more 'practical' wondering if it's simply better to cut the ship into pieces and push the smaller pieces away - investment loss or not.<br><br>For the Concord, there are obligatory contracts to fulfill in the Research division. Spies, intels or better that must be rescued.<br>For the Paladins, the simple law abiding request should be enough.<br>For the Watch? Who else is going to pay attention to the little man caught in the midst of all this? There are thousands of ways to get to the listing ship, from hitching a ride to simply donning a suit and leaping. Customizable for your convienance, for a low price of a few copper-keys and pride; The fitting tubes still have to scan your body shape, after all.<br><br>Reaper, himself, is taking the shuttle option. His cowl blowing about in the driving wind of the ship's engines as it warms up, the side doors left open as he grips the side of the archway. "Sombra. Status?" He practically growls. There is a Mission to be done; It may be a rescue Mission, but it will not be a Mission of Mercy.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's hardly the first time Sombra helps people. True, she's more about putting fools in power down a peg or two, but hey, saving people? Why not. Having people in debt to you is always a good thing too, so the hacker had chosen to go along with dear Gabe on this rescue mission. Before boarding the shuttle however, she had taken her time to hack into some terminals on the way, perhaps to Reaper's annoyance.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And as she walks to the shuttle, she's busy looking over some screens, a pensive look on her face. While she does hear Reaper's question, she doesn't respond immediately as she flips to another page on the screen... and then takes the final steps to enter the shuttle, sitting down somewhere before she turns the screen for Reaper to see.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I've gotten the blueprints for the ship, joined all the coms the crew are on. It seems they're still working on finding the cause for the malfunction. There are dead people there already, but nobody important," she informs him. "Also, I got a manual on these shuttles. In an emergency I could override the functions... should we need to." Who knows what can happen in space. "Also, it seems that more people are joining us."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1111|Laura Kinney (1111)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It's amazing what people leave lying around, and how many people will ignore someone with a high vis vest and a clipboard who looks like they know what they're doing. And in this case, what Laura is doing while she's being ignored is making her way through the underbelly of the citystation, a baggy oilstained coverall hiding her figure and anything she's concealing. First order of business, find a way to the ship. She's not going to just get a skinsuit and jump, too unreliable. Hah. Here we are. Before her sits a rack of what appear to be high tech backpacks, albeit metallic. A quick browse of a manual had given her the basics, everything else she'd figure out on the way over. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After unseating the pack from its dock, she pulls it on, fastening the harness, before toggling a control on one shoulder. Metallic plates seem to telescope outward, covering her body, before another array extends over her head and seals to form a helmet, glowing blue lines on the outside lighting up as the sensor package activates. Let's see... Oxygen okay, Integrity checks positive... All systems nominal. She clomps toward the nearest exterior airlock, cycling herself through and stepping onto the outside of the construct. The stars wheel past above her as she scans the sky. Luckily she's not vulnerable to vertigo, or the sensation of hanging by the magboots on your feet while the world spins around you would have made her fill her helmet. A telltale blinks on her HUD, hilighting one particular speck of light in particular as it swims over the horizon, this one moving relative to the others. Gritting her teeth, Laura releases the magboots, the station falling away beneath her as she triggers a burst from her rig's maneuvering thrusters. Boost up to fifty meters per second, stand by for deceleration burn, execute command sequence.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Out of a Warpgate some short hop away at sublight speed, emerges an odd sight. The IJN Shiratsuyu-class Destroyer, Shigure, a waterborne vessel, emerges from the gate iris. What's different are the engines attached and the RCS modules fitted to allow 3D movement. The vessel seems unstable as it swings around and fires the main engines to approach the rescure and recovery efforts. &lt;&lt;HDA Destroyer Shigure affiliate Paladins, approaching from &lt;Coordinates:vector&gt;, any response teams, please advise where I will be best deployed.&gt;&gt; she radios, voice tinny as if speaking through metal, which is is, really. The girl's body rests somewhere deep inside the metal body of her Ocean Fitout... well, really Space Fitout at this point.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:930|Alden (930)}} has posed:'''<br> The request for help went all over the place it seems, even to people not affiliated with any of the factions! Alden was trying to hitch a ride to the falling, burning ship, his suit consisting mostly on a modified helmet and air tanks, since he might need to... change his body shape in case he needed to use brute force, or shoot at something!. The digimon thanked the pilot bringing him close to the ship, his form glowing brightly in mid air, to a larger, more 'humanoid' shape as he approaches the damaged vessel, at the least, he hopes to try and help any survivors.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>Reaper's sterile mask turns down towards Sombra as the woman finally makes her way onto the shuttle proper, an annoyed growl slipping out of him - before Sombra mentions what she's managed to accomplish. There is a brief and dangerous pause - before Reaper reaches a clawed hand into his trenchcoat slash coal slash duster, whatever the hell that thing is. And pulls out - an emergency facemask and void-bubble. If and when problems happen, just slap it on. Sure, it'd be like you're trying to maneuver in an inflated trash bag, but when the alternative is asphyxiation? It's even in black with sharp purple highlights. This is held silently for Sombra, while Reaper's grip on the archway slips off.<br>"Good." He snarls. And he's always snarling. "... Find the quickest route to the R&amp;D. That's our mission objective; Secure the Director and his team. Secondary objective is to recovery their dataload. Territary objective is to find what's threatening the ship." A pause, and another low grumble. ".. And keep the mask close."<br>The hatchway begins closing and sealing as engines roar the life, the shuttle leaping towards the distant burning ship-<br><br>The NT Briar is roughly divided into five decks. The fourth deck, or the lowest, is where normal docking, cargo, and emergency lifepods are located. Third deck is habitation, bars, holorooms, cryopods for long term sleep, and even security. Everything you need to function. Second deck is technically half as tall as the others; Sometimes called mid-deck, where there's sporadic lighting for all the engineering needs, such as powerplants. First deck for Captain's mess, officer's quarters, a rather sustainsive medical wing, and - R&amp;D. Which has the bulk of space, a ship within a ship, a whole section designed to seal and detach on a tether in the event of emergencies to preserve the corporate employees. Why it hasn't is anyone's guess. And the bridge caps it all, holding the actual piloting, Captain's quarters, and a few larger shuttles for officer use. The 'mold' - as Laura and the rest approach - turns out to be something else entirely. It's like someone took long rotting stew of giant proportions and threw it across the front of the ship. Lumps pulse and wheeze in the darkness, flickering lights in the slimey, moldy exterior. Entire sections of the plasteel bulkhead appear to be rusting away beneath its grip. Fourth deck is nearly over-run - the life pods long since absorbed into the mass, with only a few protrusions. The occasional bit of debris floating around the ship in a nebulae as Laura approaches, and she'll have the lion's choice of where to enter. Lots of breeches, with inflatable walls snapping out of the walls to seal off every few meters. Airpumps wheezing and roaring as they try to maintain pressure. Getting through is going to be a pain.<br>Alden is brought to the aft of the bridge, where the officer's shuttle has been torn asunder, dangling like a bird on a string. Scraps along the landing platform showing where someone had tried to fly it without decoupling it first, thus ruining the whole thing. And as the HDA Destroyer Shigure moves closer - small tendrils of the 'mold' ease away from the shadow of the larger Briar, attempting to rope her in!!<br><br>The garble of communications inside - chatter of master of arms giving fire directions, scientists and medical personnel attempting triage and civilians yelling for help - becomes a cacophony of noise.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1111|Laura Kinney (1111)}} has posed:'''<br>Laura Kinney flips, coming to 'rest' with her feet pointing toward the ship, her thrusters firing again to decelerate. The crackle of her helmet radio and the warning broadcast by the.... Boat? In space? Well, the warning gives her cause to rethink her landing zone. Better not try to go in somewhere damaged, that way lies having to fight whatever this shit is. And wihile she could probably retract the RIGsuit's gloves and use her claws for a bit, vacuum exposure still isn't /fun/. A long lateral burn takes the mutant in an arc towards the rear third of the ship, where the amber lights of an external airlock gleam in the darkness. Enter in Engineering, make your way forward. Hell, she'll even use a gun if she has to. She's got a bad feeling about this....<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:930|Alden (930)}} has posed:'''<br> The wolf digimon grabs onto the ship, blinking at the damage that it clearly sustained, the com on his helmet filling his ears with random communications!. He mumbles, trying to climb past the devris, and into the ship proper, announcing himself, and trying to figure out just where in the ship he was!, he wishes his D-ark was able to do more than just show digimon stast and related info!. He walks down the corridor, heading to the closest of the voices asking for assistance.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure comes up along the coordinates to accept civilians being evacuated... and is suddenly lashed at with the mold tendrils. Her alert klaxons start to sound, but aren't audible in the void of space. She radios an alert to other ships to steer clear, before her hull strikes the main mold mass and her radio disconnects.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This isn't the end for the shipgirl. As her hull strikes the mold mass, it glows brightly in a blue-white hue, discorporeating back into her 'Girl' form. A basic helmet, a black body suit, and her backpack rig with the cannons. Small RCS modules dot around her feet, shoulders and waist, allowing full motion in the void, though she does seem unsteady as she disengages from the mold and moves to seek a breach to enter from.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;After a few moments, her radio kicks back in. &lt;HDA Shigure to rescue teams, I cannot accomplish evacuation mission, hostile growth makes approach impossible. Moving into NT Briar via hull breach to assist in evacuation efforts.&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Growling is something you get used to when hanging around Mister Edgelord a majority of the time, and it always appears to have no effect on Sombra no matter the situation. It's only when he pulls out the facemask that the hacker looks towards him, all while a smile spreads across her face. "Gracias, Gabe." It's hooked onto her belt next to her translocator. This way she's bound to be able to get to it quickly, all without it getting lost nor occupying her hands, which she will need. "Hmmm.... do you still need to breathe? Or do you have a similar thing in that mask of yours?" she asks out of curiousity, tilting her head up at him as her purple locks bounce against her shoulder. "Do dead men need to breathe...?" Luckily she doesn't expect an answer, as she turns her attention back to her screen.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"There are other presences... the angry girl who regenerates is in a RIG suit on her way towards teh ship, I'm certain we can use her. A Digimon is at the ship now too. And if you missed the radio chatter, we have a girl who possesses the spirit of a ship... HD Shigure. She's not the most suitable for space, but she can function as an evacuation vessel if we can get life suits for the crew we need to evacuate. I've directed her to stay close to the ship. I should be able to override the functions of the ship there if they aren't too damaged," she informs Reaper, considering he probably wants to be in control of this mission. "Recovery of their data load is something I can do while I hack into the system, as long as I get to the right terminal."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Time to bring them in towards the ship, it seems. Sombra settles down for the ride, all while she reads up on the ship, showing Reaper the blueprints so he can see. "Judging from the communications, the fourth deck is lost due to some alien lifeform. The hull is comprimised in several areas, and the crew has no way to get off ship. Which means we will need the others in order to evacuate them all. We can't fit them all on this shuttle. Want me to focus on the upper decks, Gabe?" she asks, flicking a glance towards him.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>"We don't need to fit them all; Our concern is the R&amp;D personnel." Begins Reaper, legs spread and one arm pushed against the ceiling for stability. Only losers sit in crash seats! That sterile white mask dips for a moment, focusing on the screen as their automated pilot gets them close. When it cuts out due to warnings about localized debris field, Gabriel neatly slips into place, claws gauntlets finding familiar controls. Not too different from a VTOL, if you don't count the thousand different buttons and toggles he wasn't going to touch. "Let the rest burn." And then his head turns, the edge of his mask showin around the cowl.<br>"... And don't call me -Gabe-."<br>The shuttle shifts, moving towards the first deck - where there's still a landing pad, albeit damage. It is, in fact, the same one Alden may have briefly seen on approach. The pilot finishing the maneuver, hissing and clunking as local channels fill with the sound of furious battle and cowardice, in turns. Hissing filling the air as it pressurizes with the local dock, Reaper not bothering to stand - simply dissolving, his composite pieces reforming near the airlock itself.<br>"No. There is no air in a grave." He snarls. Although, to be honest, he's not certain what would happen to him if he was lost in void; Could he even manuever as a cloud? Something to make him watch his step as the hatch begins to hiss open - to the sound of laser fire and snap military calls. One last pause as Reaper reaches down, pulling up his twin hellfire shotguns.<br>".. Coordinate them to the first deck. Our mission takes priority - they can be our asset." He doesn't need to translate that into 'be nice and make them help us' for Sombra. She knows how to be sneaky in wording things.<br>Beyond the hatch? Chaos! Red lights flare, sirens wail, with a few corporate security guards mixed with masters-at-arms, peering down a maintenance hatch and firing bursts of laser fire. Others are at other hatches. The ship is longer than it is wide, with a central hallway; Sections of it closed off from emergency inflatable high-pressure walls, the maintenance ladders tucked in corners ringing with the continual sound of steps moving up and down and shouting. R&amp;D? Main entrance is in the middle, the whole port side of the first deck save for the very fore.<br><br>Alden makes his way into the third deck, squeezing himself past emergency shutters that create brief airlock pockets. Automatically cycling him and through to - chaos! The third deck was brightly tiled in white and primary colors. Now it's splattered with unknown fluids, a small knot of people fighting what appears to be very aggressive slime mold. Some trying their best to crowbar a nearby sealed door open, while what appears to be a man in blue overalls sprays purple liquid at the mold. It retreats - and begins growing towards them again. On the bottle? PLANT-B-Gone.<br>Someone notices the wolf, and shrieks. "IT'S IN!"<br>"Idiot! That's not mold. You! Are.. You the rescue team?!" Comes the question for Alden by desperate janitorial staff<br><br>Both Kuma and Laura make the second deck, albeit from opposite sides. Laura's first vision is of a deck mostly shrouded in darkness, with ankle high knee-knockers and unadorned metal walls. The sounds of strain and groaning come from all directions, faint and distant booms. But closer by? Someone hollering for more fuel; The smell of sweat, blood - and firey smoke. As well as rot. Ages old rot, rot enough to turn the stomach, tendrils of mold working tiny tendrils through the inner structure. A faint 'FMOOPH', the distant turn corner brilliantly lit up, showing a shadow of a few engineers.<br><br>Kuma's side, however, is a lot less pleasant - maintenance techs. Barely men and women, piling stuff in front of dockheads as fast as they can. All of it being rotted and dragged away by flailing tentacles of .. well.. mold.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1111|Laura Kinney (1111)}} has posed:'''<br>Laura Kinney is glad her RIG is airtight, because from what her HUD telltales are telling her, the atmosphere in here would /not/ be pleasant to breathe. She follows the noise, breath hissing inside her helmet, the suit's sensors helpfully mapping the corridors on top of her vision in aqua-green wireframe. And then around the corner and this corridor is full of people, rushing back and forth. And what seems to be a table laden with heavily modified welding torches. This should work. She picks one up, examining the controls as she makes her way towards the front lines. Seems simple enough. Take over for some of the crew, let them get to evac. Worst comes to worst, activate the arc cutter on the suit's arm and jump outside again.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure lands on the deck, slipping inside the hull... to chaos. Her blue eyes glow faintly in the dim darkness. "Chevalier Shigure, Paladins. Where is the R&amp;D Team?" she asks, even while moving into position to start firing HE shells to burn out the encroaching mold. She's keeping her helmet on, because even if she's more a youkai than a human, that stuff stinks.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"This deck is lost. Move to the evacuation point, get pressure suits and head out of an airlock. There are shuttles orbitting the ship that can pick you up. I'll call ahead. Move!"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:930|Alden (930)}} has posed:'''<br> The wolf wearing a breathing mask just stares at the odd... thing attacking the people in the room. He walks inside, and tries to help with the locked door, hopefully stronger than the person with the crowbar, "One of many!" he replies quickly trying to pry the door open. "What is that thing?" he ask, when he notices the mold growing back at them, turning to face it, growling, and taking off his mask to basically breathe blue flames at it!, at last, it's pretty close to flames.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I know, I know... we only need them. But if we tell the others that, then the chances of them working with us decreases significantly," Sombra points out, staying in her seat even as Reaper moves to steer the shuttle closer to their destination. "It's better to say that we want to save them all. And if we do manage to save them all, imagine the positive light it puts Concord in. Of course, if it's impossible to save them all we stick to the original plan by just saving R&amp;D," she adds with a carefree grin on her face. "You just focus on fighting the alien lifeform and clearing a path for the R&amp;D as well as the other crew, and I'll get the data we want, interface with the vessel's tech to clear a safe path, and communicate with the other Elites onboard."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The response to his request for her not using the nickname for him is met with a chuckle, a sound he should know well by now.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Once they approach the landing pad Sombra gets up from her seat, flicking away the screens as she's done memorising the layout of the decks and the basics she assumes she will need. "Oh, I will use them as best as I can. Relajate, we will do this. Just don't shoot anybody important, okay?" There's a teasing tone to her voice, and she fingerwaves at Reaper before her stealth technology activates, and she hurries onto the ship after Reaper, moving quickly to the R&amp;D department as she makes sure to avoid any mold on the way. Who knows what it will do to her tech. It's a good thing she has her submachine gun, as it can clear some areas, and with all the tech onboard on this ship it's easy to interface to make sure that doors open. Stepping into the room, Sombra looks around as she lets her invisibility fade. Several people are there in the R&amp;D department, but... far fewer than expected. "Wh-who... who are you?" one of the men asks, looking at the colourful hacker as she moves to a nearby terminal. "I'm part of the rescue mission," she explains. "Just sit tight as I open communications with the rest. We have to make sure we get the rest of you off this death trap, no?" She raises her hand, moving her fingers as purple lines spread. There, connection established. Now to hack into the intercom system.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All onboard the ship should be able to hear it easily when the speakers come to life, carrying the voice of a woman, somewhat distorted. "This is Sombra, reporting in. Reaper and I have arrived on behalf of Concord, and we're here to help with the evacuation of the crew. HD Shigure has space to transport the majority of the crew, providing we find life suits. I request that you elites help them get near the lifepods and keep them safe from the mold. Make your way to the second and first deck. Use heat and fire if you can. If you need doors open, let me know and I will interface with the ship."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There, with that message done it's time to search for the research data... According to the tracking that the R&amp;D crew have in their suits, it seems she will need help from the other Elites onboard to get to them. Which means that they can't tell them outright that they're only interested in saving the research crew. Hopefully there's a way that she can reroute the research crew to the shuttle she and Reaper have...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>The maintenance techs - all wearing the same Fleet jumpsuit - look aghast at Shigure as she begins laying heavy fire along the second decks. The air quickly filled with the smell of ash and brimstone as a few of the younger techs approach the shipgirl. And nervously state, though with chin held high.<br>"T-the Captain.. hasn't given the all sound to abadon sh-ship, ma'am. Uhm, Paladin Chevalier." The others are grimly beginning to pull thin voidsuits out of emergency lockers, taking the moment of reprieve to breath deep and collect their wits. Although even as Shigure lays down bombardment - rippling tugs of air showing where breeches are quickly being sealed by the inflatable walls - there's already a fight brewing behind her. Two of the techs joining up against someone in a red and white jumpsuit.<br>"-ing -Scientists- did this! This was our home!"<br>"US?! You imbeciles are cooking up god knows what down in the mid-deck with your little hidden caches. Oh, don't think we don't know about it! Who knows what you dragged off the last world to try and make a 'really cool brew, duuuude.'"<br>"SCREW YOU!"<br>A punch. A shove. A few people yelling for order, trying to break up the fight, realign priorities. A crew dragged to the breaking point - and each third of them answers to a different boss.<br>"Why not just use the R&amp;D section?"<br>"Like hell you will! That doesn't belong to Fleet. Use your own shuttles!"<br>A few of the smarter ones? Those who don't answer to a CO but an RD? They take Shigure's advice, working their way out of the temporary airlocks and flinging themselves boldly into space. Or making their way up ringing inner-deck ladders..<br><br>Alden's fire makes a much bigger dent - and his help with the maintenance door opens it with a squeal of metal and protesting buzz of the security directives built into it. Although even as he's holding back the creeping mold, he can feel a hand on his shoulder from the botanist. Still holding a nearly depleted bottle of Plant-B-Gone. "Come on! Fire won't work long, the damn thing's adapting! We're out of ideas! You've gotta get us out of here!" And sure enough, the entire structure suddenly shudders - enough to knock anyone not braced or heavy off their feet. The tendrils of mold rippling as well, growing slower - but thicker. Slimier as they slither forward beneath literally withering fire-<br><br>-Something Laura may quickly notice as the engineers grimly let her take over, making their way to third and first decks. Whichever ladder is quickest. The shuddering vibration is enough to setup ringing in her helmet, before her fire strikes - slime. It bubbles and hisses, scorching black, but it presses forward none the less, the tendrils of slime sheathed in it. Bulkheads near her begin to buckle as the pencil thin mold runners suddenly thicken, like veins pumping blood. A hand on her arm, tugging, and an engineer yelling.<br>"You hear that? Second deck's lost! Come on, we can keep a path open near the blue space drive." Meanwhile-<br><br>-"Cycle laser frequencies! It's adapted!"<br>Comes the distant call from the first deck, which Sombra can pick up on her tap of the local comms. Hearing the sound of laser fire grow distorted, the pitch changing as the laser carbines hit the upper bound of their projection rate. One older gentleman pushing his way through the crowd of nervous researchers, adjusting his glasses as he watches Sombra with a bitter, lemon-sucking features. Before clearing his throat.<br>And clearing it again, to try and get her attention.<br>Finally, he coughs loudly. "You're the.. mm mm.. one sent by Concord?" He states, keeping his voice low.<br><br>Meanwhile, what security cameras and alarm monitoring still functions shows a horrible mess. There are still pockets of fourth deck active, but no 'living' personnel. Power alerts all over the facility. Third deck is cut into four pieces by slime mold, each effectively isolated, while second deck is nearly over-run. First deck and the bridge seem nearly pristine by comparison - as if its focusing on the lower decks. The ship was built with multi<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>First deck and the bridge seem nearly pristine by comparison - as if its focusing on the lower decks. The ship was built with multiple routes to get from point A to point B - from ladders to stairs, even a relatively fast cargo elevator. So while there's still ways to get around, it'll involve a lot of shifting vertically and a lot of bypass routes. Secondary shuttles are scratched, emergency pods busted, even the officers shuttle shows severe damage from a faulty take off. In fact, it's literally hanging by a metal thread off the side of the Briar - its place taken by the Talon shuttle.<br><br>There is a sudden roar that shudders the ship for all involved, and the slime mold halts its progress. Hardening, almost like a shell, save for where Shigure has sent her HE bombs whirling down corridors. There, at least, the mold is still mobile - if only growing back as quickly as it is burned away. WHERE is it getting this biological mass from?!<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1111|Laura Kinney (1111)}} has posed:'''<br>Laura Kinney nods, starting to walk backwards, keeping an eye on the window in her HUD that shows the view behind her. Every seconds she lets off another burst, sending a wall of flame down the corridor to push the mold back. Looks like the ship's lost, but she can at least cover the retreat of the civilians. &lt;&lt;There are enough suits for everyone, correct? Rescue services should be able to pick up anyone adrift...&gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure's focus is on keeping the mold at bay while the civilians get clear... but those that step up to her earn a soft, but firm command. "This is an emergency situation, you must ensure your section is clear and protect your lives and those around you, regardless of commands from people that likely have already evacuated." she says. It's not exactly protocol, but it's at least a good interpretation. Anything to get them moving.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And then a fight breaks out behind her. The blue eyes flare with annoyance, little flames licking from the corners as she turns and... actually shouts, raising her voice to be heard over the fighting. "GET. OFF. THE. SHIP. NOW. Fight when you're not about to die."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:930|Alden (930)}} has posed:'''<br>Alden achieves something!, guiding the people behind him as he hears the warning, "I still got a coupel things to try, but thanks for letting me know that." he says , quickly moving to help the door close behind them, perhaps it might slow down the mold behind them!. "I.... kinda don't know the layout... but we should go to those decks, hopefully we can evacuate that way."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Trying to get a better overview of the situation, Sombra doesn't look away from the screens that she projects, one hand on the terminal while her other hand types on the hexagon keyboard that she creates mid air, her fingers moving quickly over the keys. "Hmmm, yes. I'm here to help evacuate the crew," she responds, still busy typing away. "Please don't disturb me, I'm trying to get the hang of things so I can save you and your research..." Needless prattling takes away her focus, after all. And she needs to be ready should the other Elites need her attention.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And this turns into one major mess. With large parts of the ship gone, a majority of the void suits are no longer onboard. Which means it's impossible to save them all. Oh well, it means that they will be sticking to the original plan. But it would be senseless to let the others know that, it's better to play along to keep them cooperating. That way they can lead the other researchers to safety so she and Reaper doesn't have to run all over the place. Slowly a plan forms in Sombra's head.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Laura will hear Sombra's voice over the radio. "Just barely, if we focus on the ones we /can/ save. I have found the cause of the entire mess. It appears a breach happened in R&amp;D. I'm afraid that they are infected by the mold. You have to focus on saving the others, and we will have to isolate the researchers in a safe location."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In Shigure's location Sombra's voice can also be heard speaking. "I suggest that you focus on the civilians. Stand by for further orders."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All aboard the ship, an alarm sounds. "Contamination spreading: compromised personnel are to report to corridor 14G. All R&amp;D personnel are suspected contaminated, please move as instructed. All other personnel, move with the Elites for first wave evacuation."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>The last man standing by the escape ladder - clad in a white RIG suit with a strange gun in his hands - turns his visored head as Laura backs up to them. And then steps forward, taking the spot where she was. Unknowing that she's an elite - only that she's in a simple EVA rig with a flamethrower that's not holding back the creeping mmuck anymore. He holds the gun out, flips a setting with his thumb, and pulls the trigger;<br>There is a WHUMP as a digital outlines fill the hallway, and a block of solid metal forms. A plug. The man with the RCD - Rapid Construction Device - steps back, hoisting it and nodding aside.<br>"Alright. That'll hold for a few minutes. Get with the rest of the crew- .. Wait.. who are you?"<br>He's distracted by someone calling for 'CHIEF!', turning his head to peer down a ladder work and wave his hand. "Get loose. I'll be down." And then back to Laura. "Alright, get off this deck. The whole thing's going." Already, one can hear the soft scratching as rust falls off the 'insta-wall' from the other side. The Chief Engineer walking to the other side of the hall, hefting that RCD as he calls out: "Anyone still alive in there? RUN! I'm sealing it!"<br><br>Alden's group of people nod slowly, before the janitor rubs his nose. "Mm. Fourth deck's got the escape pods, mister wolf fellow guy, and it's gone. Even my cleaner grenades couldn't keep that crap off long. Plant-B-Gone works, but we don't have enough." He nods to the purple spray bottle, before pointing. "Not enough suits on this side either. There's emergency supplies in the aft, but.. that's a long walk either from second or from fourth. Don't think we can get there going straight back from here. What's, uh.."<br>All eyes turn to Alden. "What's the plan, wolf man .. robot.. guy?"<br>Comms are filling up again - pockets of people still trapped on third deck. Calls for order from first deck and bridge.<br><br>Shigure's charisma break is enough to snap the bickering survivors out of their collapse. But the woman from Research - upon hearing that they're infected - shrieks. "No, no! We're not! She's lying, I swear! We're not infected!-" People begin peeling back from her, taking the shipgirl's advice to done void suits and jump. But - there won't be enough. Especially since no one's letting the Researcher near the cache until it's empty. Grimly, they do so orderly - the highest ranks going first, until only a handful of scared PO-1's are left. Gathering up crowbars and flashlights as they await the shipgirl's command. Except for the researcher. She's over in the corner, shunned.<br><br>"Listen, I appreciate that, but shouldn't you be focu-" Begins the Director to Sombra - before she states that they're infected. His eyes widen, and his old finger is waggled. "Now, wait just a moment! I'll have you know not a single person under my supervision would ever be so careless! Our biohazard quarantines are the best in any Fleet ship contracted for us. I demand you - you -.."<br><br>He trails off, his face gone white. ".. Who you.. /can/ save? Please, these are my people. You -have- to help them get off this ship! I.. I tried to detach our section, but something's jammed on the anchor points. I can't get through to second deck engineering."<br><br>The slime mold holds its position for a moment - even in the brief break Shipgirl takes to yell at the stupidity of bickering survivors, they simply form their hardened wall and wait. Which is when the entire ship shudders again - gravity flickering off and on, before acceleration makes loose objects start sliding. A voice cuts onto the comms, grimly.<br><br>".. This is Captain Nil. .. Our engines have come live without my command. We're accelerating. All Fleet, abandon ship."<br>"Um, Liasion Mud. Contractors, you are released to.. uh.. uh.. the.. the professionals.. currently trying to rescue you?"<br><br>Finally, the old man taps his ear piece. "Director Nathy. All research, report to 14G - make your way as best you can."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1111|Laura Kinney (1111)}} has posed:'''<br>Laura Kinney gives who's obviously the Chief Engineer a nod. "I am X-23, and I am responding to your distress call. I would suggest we put all the unsuited people in a compartment with oxygen equipment, seal it, then cut it off from the rest of the ship. I can push it away with my RCS thrusters, and it can act as a temporary lifeboat. It is risky, but it is better than certain death at the hands of this mold."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:930|Alden (930)}} has posed:'''<br> Alden is pretty much an anthro wolf right now, more than a bit scary looking!. He seems a bit lost as he hears those explanations, "I am sure they must have a plan to help us, but at leat we can find some extra oxygen equipment or tanks might help. "I can fly, and perhaps carry a couple people, if we get to a point with some atmosphere, but I rather figure out how many we can get in a proper evacuation first." he says. <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He ponders for a moment, "Afterwards... I can help destroy more of that thing, assuming freezing, or making it explode... or burning it with lasers still works."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure grits her teeth, forcing the anger and pain back down inside. She looks back at the encroaching mold, and fires a few more shells in, before she pulls a pair of torpedoes out of her thigh mounts, 'lights' them and hurls them into the middle of the mass, where they detonate. "Hopefully that slows it down a bit... get that researcher to 14G, I'll see if one of the shuttles can land on one of the upper decks." she says to the PO-1s that are left behind. "I will not let you die if I can help it. You have my oath as a Fleet Daughter. Come on." she gestures to the ladderwell leading up, then looks at the researcher. "Get going... I don't believe you're infected, but everyone else is in a blind panic... I have faith you will get out of here." she says, before making her way up behind the PO-1s.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's easy enough to overhear the reaction from the researchers on board the ship, and especially from the man next to her. Turning to glare at the director, Sombra narrows her eyes. "Listen to me and be quiet. You want to survive this or not? If so, then go along with my instructions, comprende? You and your fellow researchers are worth more than the other crew. Which is why we're going to save you first. I know you're not contaminated, but the others do not. If we were to tell them that we are only interested in saving you, then they would not work with us on this. My colleague will get the rest of your group up here so we can evacuate you on our shuttle. I have locked up enough life suits for you up here so that the expendable crew can't get to them. So be quiet and do as you're told," she finishes, turning back to the console.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Finally, the captain gives the order for the other researchers to comply with her suggestion. Now it's an order. A smirk crosses Sombra's features as she taps away at her keyboard. Down in the corridor, purple lines spread as doors open. "Copy, X-23. Reaper will pick them up and lead them to a fitting compartment once the researchers have gathered in 14G. For now focus on getting the others to safety, they can't fight against the mold."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Alden, focus on keeping the mold at bay for now. You're the best suited to do that for now."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As for Shigure. "It's a risk we can't take right now. Isolationing any possible contamination is a high priority for now, otherwise we will risk all their lives."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Corridors open, leading to section 14G for the remaining researchers as they are herded towards the spot. At the same time, Sombra sends the location signal to Reaper. It should be quick for him to get them from there and up to R&amp;D... just perfect.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Gabe..." The signal comes to his private channel. "Pick up some suits on the way, will you? I will open them for you when you're near, make the researchers pick them up and carry them."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:930|Alden (930)}} has posed:'''<br> The digimon nods as he hears the command, and reaches for his D-Ark, "Ok, just tell me where to go and I'll do my best." he says sofly. He does accompany the group with him to the designated deck, and waits they are where he believes they might be safe, before changing into something more assault oriented, an even taller, seemingly robotic bipedal wolf machine standing where he was!, a bit of a tight fit perhaps!. "Where should I focus my attack?" he tries, surprised they have much info about him, or his abilities. <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Still, he runs/hovers his way to a mold concentration, and tries opening fire!. He begins with his gatling gun and the shoulder mounted beam gun, testing what effect they might have on the invading growth, followed by a couple of small missiles down the path. He tries not to blow up the room/corridor if he can help it.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>The CE works with Laura to move his crew into a section of third deck that hasn't gotten rot on it yet - and, via the RCD, seal it up with blocks of metal while stripping the retaining walls around it. A makeshift life pod, the small room layered with air tanks and masks - enough to support what's left of the engineering crew. And Laura herself, floating off into the void to await pickup.<br><br>Alden's group, meanwhile, is pale face and willing to follow him where ever he asks. Although the janitor - who's been the 'voice' of the small group of civvies - raises his hand again. As if he's in class. "Uh, we, uh.. we can't survive outside atmosphere." He states, as if this wasn't quite obvious to the anthro-wolf-robot-thing. He clears his throat, as others nervously nod. "Do, uh.. do you have.. some sort of compartment or.. I don't know. Do you transform or something into an airproof closet..?"<br>"That's a myth!"<br>"Shut it. It -could- work. Maybe. I mean, if it's airproof you'd last a few minutes, right?" The Janitor rubs his brow, looking pointedly at a couple of nearby metal lockers. Solid steel and sealed.<br><br>The researcher sobs as Shigure turns to leave her behind, shaking as she heads the other direction. On her own. YOU MONSTER!<br>Still, the Petty Officer First Classes are relieved to have someone in charge as they follow directions. Spreading out on the first deck - just in time for an explosive shotgun shell to smash through the wall nearby. And the clinging tendril of mold stretching out along it. Reaper! The sterile bone-white mask turned towards the petty officers, and the Ship Girl, as they climb out of the slime infected heck hole - dragging a blue closet behind him, the contents rattling, his claws sunk into the metal. A hissing breath, but he's not stopping just yet to chat - leading a 'flock' of Researchers in prime white coats, who seem like they'd much, MUCH rather be with ShipGirl.<br>"Keep your -officers- back." He growls.<br><br>Around Sombra, the plan begins to line up. Researchers are being gathered and herded towards 14G, where Reaper had picked up the majority. There'll be a few lower left behind - but that's to be expected. And he's dragging an emergency oxygen closet behind him, drawing up scrapes from the metal plating as he goes. He'll be insufferable after this for a while.<br>Other cameras show Alden, with a rather significant group of civilians on his tail. He's cut off from voidsuits on the other side of the ship, but it looks like they're discussing - something. Sound's out.<br><br>The engine controls on the nacells of third and fourth deck are still swarmed with tendrils of undulating ooze, flickering lights of electricity flowing in their depths. Accelerating - towards CentCom City. The mold apparently wants to -spread its wings- a bit.<br><br>Other researchers begin filing out, heading towards the shuttle that Sombra and Reaper brought. They'll be intercepted by said death obsessed man soon. But what about all the rest of the crew?!<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure frowns at Reaper... but she doesn't stop him. She uses the barrel of one of her cannon tonfa to keep the PO-1s out of the way. "If you're quarantening the research staff. Why do they need space survival gear?" she asks in that soft, but projected voice of hers. It may remind Reaper of a certain Omnic monk in some ways.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Even as she speaks, she's multifeeding across radio, calling any available evac shuttle to come pick up the PO-1s in her care. She made them a promise, and she's not going to back out of it now.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There we go... Reaper can be useful for something besides being so edgy. As the researchers follow him they are sure to pick up the suits that they will need on board the shuttle. It doesn't have enough oxygen for them all, and they will be pretty cramped in there.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With the final data gathered, Sombra steps away from the terminal, then begins heading towards the door. As she picks up Shigure's question she can't help but roll her eyes. Now what made the girl pick up on /that/? Well, she can bullshit her way out of that one.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The comms come to life near Shigure. "The risk of a breach is high, so their chances for survival are higher in that case. Not to mention the suits can help contain any possible contamination for the rescue teams that will pick them up."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With that she moves ahead, gesturing for the researchers to follow her. "Now move, amigos. We're getting off this moldy death trap, meeting up with your colleagues and flying away on the shuttle." It's easy enough to guide them along to the shuttle, she supposes. The rest of the crew is no longer their concern, the smaller research department is far more valuable.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As she spots Reaper, the hacker offers a wave. "Hola, good to see you managed to get the others. Are we ready to leave then? I have the other thing we came for." He should know that she's talking about the data. "Did the others give you any trouble?" The researchers begin putting on the suits, still wary of the two Talon agents. But they're not about to stay on the ship as it is now.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>The Reaper pauses as he's addressed, and the cowled head turns. The hand not occupied with dragging the emergency closet hefting that shotgun up perpendicular to his shoulder. The voice - rasping, growling as if he were half a step from screaming - gives one little phrase.<br>"Going down with the .. ship?"<br>Claws open, the shotgun falling to the ground and clattering away to make his point. And then Sombra steps out with her usual 'friendly' spin on their work. Reaper growls, pulling forward again. The trip to the airlock doesn't take long - the thing quickly cycling open again, leading to the shuttle. Researchers taking a mask apiece, sealing it over their faces; no way the shuttle's air scrubbers could handle that many breathing people, forced to pack into the back. The Director as well, casting a sorrowful glance back at Shigure and the petty officers left behind.<br><br>"Beyond living? No." He rasps to Sombra's question, dissolving to move through the crowd of jumpy researchers to the front of the shuttle. Waiting only long enough for Sombra to get aboard - before that door will seal itself. Here's hoping she likes crowded conditions in the back.<br>Or planted her translocator in the co-pilot's seat. Hm. Should've thought to check before he settled in.<br><br>The petty officers remain silent at Shigure's insistence, before one snaps off a salute, eyes suddenly wide. "Ma'am! The officer's shuttle! It's off the platform and can't fly, but.. it's only a few seconds exposure with a snap capture for emergency entrance." The others nod, jaws set. "We're trained for depressurization. If you can get us in fast enough, we can cycle to the internal atmosphere. It won't fly, but.. if you can give us a push..?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure watches Reaper and Sombra go, then turns back to the Petty Officers. "Alright, I can probably get it moving using my 3D movement thrusters. Lets get moving." she says, gesturing for the one who spoke up to lead the way. "I made an oath, and I will keep it, even if I sink in doing so."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The group arrive at the officer shuttle dock. The craft showing pretty bad damage to the engines, but a still intact hull compartment. "You're right, it won't fly... but it still looks intact... how many can fit through the airlock at once?"<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;After being informed, she says. "I'll take each group, then come back for the next. Cycle the airlock when I'm on the way back. We are going to make it."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>The Petty Officers nod grimly, and - one by one - enter the airlock. It's neat and orderly, as expected of any navy officer; Even one in space. They crouch, expel out until their lungs hurt, then close their eyes as Shigure leads them blindly through a void. They'll hurt - decompression sickness sucks - but it's only a few seconds exposure. Joint ache, nothing serious. And after the first, there's one available to help the next. Quick and snap too.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:685|Kuma (685)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shigure lets the last one cycle into the airlock, then begins pushing the shuttle away from the main ship, using her RCS thrusters. As she gets up to speed, and the accellerating NT Briar begins to recede. She rotates her torpedo tubes at the retreating shape, using her radar to plan the spread, and letting loose with all eight of her tubes, aiming to smash the engines and disrupt the trajectory of the craft.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1117|Sombra (1117)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The hacker isn't slow to board the shuttle, so Reaper doesn't have to worry about that nor any translocator usage right now. Slipping past their passengers, Sombra gets into the co pilot seat as she settles next to Reaper, smiling for herself as she leans back, slouching as she pulls one leg up to get comfy. "You need to relax, Gabe. We did well, no? I say we grab a drink when we get back," she says, reaching out to boop Reaper on the nose as he gets the shuttle going. "We managed to save the researchers, the Concord will approve, and we've had some fun. So that's a big plus. Now we just get them safe and let the others deal with the expendables."<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All in all a successful mission, considering they suffered no injuries, got the important people who are now packed in the back of the shuttle wearing their lifesuits to save on oxygen. Speaking of which... Sombra puts on the facemask Reaper gave her earlier, just in case. But it's clear that she looks rather pleased with how this mission went, and that the others fell for her ruse.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1115|Reaper (1115)}} has posed:'''<br>"The strongest drink turns to ash on my lips."<br><br>Growls 'Gabriel', as his clawed gauntlets neatly flip the switches to put power to the engines. Pulling it up and away from the vessel, his sterile white mask reflecting the running lights and the occasional shimmer of debris. Perhaps -thats- the reason Reaper's so pissed off all the time? No pulque. No whiskey. Nothing but an endless expanse of void as his body tears itself apart and is rebuilt in a cycle of unstoppable agony.<br>That, or he's just a bitch.<br>".. And my name is -Reaper-."<br><br>They reach the point where the auto-pilot can take in - just as the Shigure's weapons fire hit something critical. The infected ship lighting up like a candle before it shatters. As if it were glass, and someone just hit with a hammer.<br>Well. That'll take care of the mold.<br> <br>
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