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Another series of thumps from deep in the rear section of the ship's engineering drive. Something was latching to the ship's hull, and indications were that it intended to cut its way in.
Marshall's free hand grabbed the munitions case, hefting it just as easily as he had when he had obtained it from the outer hull. A nod to Vincent as he set his suit's thrusters to stand-by while awaiting the gravity field shut off. "I'll get the civilians and the ordinance out, just make sure you follow, sir." The cerulean armored Spartan gave a nod in response to Eligos' own questions about a thruster assist, indicating for the cyborg to stay close. "Make sure you hold on, freelancer. Don't wanna lose you halfway down this hell hole's length."
Seconds ticked by. A flicker in the remaining light fixtures of the gravity core chamber as the downward pull in the Event Horizon faded. Most of those in the chamber would feel the floating sensation takeover, which was Marshall's signal to get himself, Eligos, and the comatose power suited mercenary slung over his shoulder moving while they had time. His communications feed switched to the TEAMCOM line that connected with "Veska", someone on a nearby ship that apparently had been pulled through the jump with them. "Veska, was it? This is Spartan Corporal Vance Marshall, coming in with your associates, I assume. A-Grav is off and we are free floating. Estimate one minute to arrival at the exposed tunnel at the fore of the ship."
He would gesture for Eligos take hold of a secure plate of his armored suit, as his own hands were occupied, and then tensed a bit before pushing off the deck to send them floating toward the second containment entry door. "Crimson, I don't have your little partner in crime on my TEAMCOM channels, so relay to her that we're inbound and crossing the containment tunnel." Which had come to a halt, Marshall noted to himself as he and his charges crossed over the thresholds. When the ship's entity, and thus its gravity core, had died, it had clear,y taken out all systems and such that had been required for the gravity drive to be contained. Made a few things easier. "Just hope whatever you have planned is enough to take this nightmare ship out for good. Captain Laswell is probably going to have my hide for me and my team going missing for a day on that thing."
A moment to make sure his VISR rangefinder could calculate the clear enough course, his thrusters primed, and a five second burst that sent him and his charges down the corridor. With luck, they would just have to pause a few times to open some doors and repeat the maneuver to reach the entry lock before their new "guests" could intercept them.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Feb 22, 2020 21:59:14 GMT
With a set of coherent orders and plan of action coalescing, Veska first set the ship's rudimentary AI systems to alert her if any of the unknown ships made an approach or powered up anything their sensors might recognize as weapons systems, then angled the Dancing Goddess into a stealthy approach to the breached tunnel where Eliza and Eligos had entered the Event Horizon what felt like ages ago. With only a kilometer of distance, she saw no need to make herself too obvious, especially since it didn't appear they'd yet been noticed. "Inbound now, Marshall. Once you're secured to the hull, I'll ferry you over. Hopefully, our friends don't notice. Be advised again, I cannot take on conventional passengers at this time, so all riders you are bringing will need to continue to the Prowler if they are organic," she reiterated, more to emphasize the matter of Eligos than anything else. "Crimson, you're leading this op, it appears. Once I've locked to the Prowler's hull and riders are aboard, what shall I do, barring hostilities being initiated?"
Standing in the middle of the brutally utilitarian bridge, the commander gazed at the view-screen with consternation. The massive craft before him was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It lacked the signature bug-like hull of the Grineer Navy, and was far too big for the Tenno to slap together... or was it, they had proven more than capable of building large structures in the past when they united.
No matter who made this thing, the Boss was going to want it, and he wasn't about to make the mistake of not getting it to him. Thumbing the comms controls, he'd contact the teams prepping to board the hulking derelict. Encryption wouldn't be an issue, the thing looked too dead to put up any fight, and if there were infested aboard it wouldn't mean anything anyway. "Yaippaip tipikapye, ayyuye pkepe yay pe koypikey apoapk. Yepk ip pke kpo_iey pipyp, ypapkapk yeapyk kappepp. Pe'pe ppippipp pkiy ip, yake yupe pkepe apep'p apy upkkeayapp yupkpiyey. Ip apyope iy kiypepipp apk yap upkepypapk, you'pe ppeykayyipp ip yopkuy ykaye apk je jikk pe iykoupkipp youp teyyek, yupyip pop kepiepyy."
This would either get him promoted or liquidated, he obviously wasn't going to settle with the latter. Thumb off of the comms now, he'd turn to his XO; "Po yopikize pke peyp op pke kpo_iey. Ip ip puppy oup je peek po pipkp pop pkiy jpeyk, je peppep pe peaky." --------- Event Horizon-
The short silence after the massive thuds would give way to echoing hisses, the sound of plasma cutters chewing through the cold metal hull, and then great clangs as the cut away portions impact with walls upon being kicked in. Quiet and distorted chattering in an alien tongue would echo through the corridors of the ship, soon followed by the soft whine of small thrusters as many dozens of drones are released and scatter. For now, however, the spurfolk shall remain unfound, as the salvage team has many kilometers to go.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
Turning off the gravity seemed to be the right call between Eligos' answer and the hardcase Marshall had to haul out with him, although the blue armored Spartan had a point. Switching over to the open channel Anna was on, Vincent would immediately move to rectify that issue.
"Anna, Marshall's on his way out with the mercs. You're hitching a ride with them over to the Prowler. Nothing from here interfaces with that ship." Vincent said, and as he spoke the black armored giant would feel his stomach suddenly dip into the free fall sensation of microgravity as the ship's internal systems were powered down. Correcting that issue with a thought, the bottom of his feet would lock down to the ship's deckplates as he flipped on his armor's magnetic clamps.
"Understood. You better be following after us."
Not quite the response that Vincent was looking for, but it would have to do. There wasn't much he could say in response to that - what Vincent had in mind was best described as risky on a good day, and trying to time it with civilians to evac while surrounded by potentially hostile ships meant he'd be threading the needle. Holding off on detonating the drive for as long as possible while still ensuring that these newcomers didn't reach it in time to disable much less recover the slipdrive, and doing so in a manner that'd allow him enough time to get back to the Prowler. It was commonly said that Spartans were crazy but those were odds Vincent didn't find himself much liking all the same.
Well, if it did go poorly... at least that was one conversation he wouldn't have to partake in with Marshall later. As it stood now Vincent didn't bother to inform or correct the cerulean armored Spartan as he took off down the hallway with his passengers and cargo in tow. The man needed to be focused in the here and now, and he could come to terms with those developments later when he had the time to process it all. Speaking of.... following Marshall's broadcast to the Goddess the TEAMCOM would alight with Veska's voice again.
"Start moving off. Slowly. No engines, just pneumatic emergency thrusters. Go dark. Assuming both ships' stealth systems hold every bit of distance will help but that'll keep you close enough for me to link up when I'm done here." Vincent answered, the familiar hissing and clanging of someone cutting through hull plating causing the Spartan's helmet to turn around and settle on the aft portion of the room. Much as he wanted to make a rough estimate of how much time he had... too risky. To make assumptions based on nothing but his own experiences with familiar technology when they were dealing with a first contact scenario would be asking for trouble. Best to just assume he didn't have any time at all.
Gently pushing off from the deck to float upwards and trailing a viscous trail of coolant behind him, his armor's thrusters would fire once to halt his momentum before firing a second time to propel Vincent after the smaller Spartan that had left just minutes before.
Suddenly he found himself regretting having blasted the containment doors open and leaving little to seal shut behind him.
Well this was a terrible situation. He was confined in suit that not only stifled his movements, it also covered his gear, thus rendering him absolutely useless in this whole getting boarded scenario. Great. Just great. His digits cling to the offered armoured plate, the joints locking in place to prevent him from letting go no matter the speed or turbulence they might experience.
"Oh yea, wouldn't want that... I think I had enough of this ship already, wouldn't want to linger inside any longer. Just make sure you can move faster than whatever the fuck is cutting into the ship's hulls." The Cyborg responded in a tired tone, craning his head as far as the helmet would allow so he could keep an eye on their rear, particularly on the area from where he suspected the breach to come. He was useless offensively, but he could still serve as a lookout...that and he was curious to see what sort of creature inhabited this slice of unknown space.
The cyborg freelancer was holding well enough to his armor while the comatose woman in her hardsuit, slung over his shoulder, was little trouble as he keyed the mid section door open. The young girl who apparently was Crimson's sister had met up with them as ordered, holding to his arm and the hardsuit clad mercenary, bringing their band to four. A few bursts of his armor's thrusters has been needed to navigate around some wreckage and a number of access consoles, but it was seemingly a straight shot now to the access lock at the front of the engineering section of the dead ship.
"This is Bravo Five," Marshall announced as he fired another five second burst from his thrusters and got back up to speed in the zero gravity drift. "We're about three to four hundred meters to the access section. Advise you be ready for us, Miss Veska, expect rendezvous within five minutes."
Hopefully sooner, but they hadn't encountered any real problems as of yet. Between the four of them, he hoped it wasn't hard to cross to the senior Spartan's Prowler once they had the assistance from the mercenary group's ship. The sooner he was out of this madness and back to Sol with the data he'd recovered and information in his suit's memory storage, the better.
A quick switch of his TEAMCOM channels as they approached the exit. "Crimson One, this is Bravo Five. Try not to stall too long, we're about out of here ourselves."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Mar 15, 2020 4:54:58 GMT
Veska wasn't a stranger to operating the ship alone under silent run conditions, but the circumstances hadn't ever been quite so high risk as they were now, she reflected as she guided the Dancing Goddess along the clearest path to her destination, relying on the pneumatic thrusters to more nudge the ship than anything else into position.
"En route, now. Should be ready and waiting. Going full silent until further contact," she added, though she didn't close the channel. She did keep a close eye out on the strange ships, however, and set a portion of the ship's computer to attempt to analyze the alien transmissions in hopes of deciphering at least some portion of what was being said. It was a long shot, but perhaps it'd work, and proper contact could be established, instead of being forced to avoid in the event that the unknown party was hostile.
The sounds of plasma cutters and corpus chatter would grow in volume as the salvagers got to work with pulling apart bulkheads and appraising what intact systems they could find, every scrap of technology, every piece of valuable metal, all would be extracted, rendered down, and prepared for delivery and analysis. In short, one could hear the boarders slowly starting to meticulously disassemble the ship as they progressed. Meanwhile, the sounds of the drones would begin to get much louder as they sped through, scanning and tagging everything they pass for the salvagers behind them. --------- The reports the captain was hearing were quite favorable, already they were finding unfamiliar hardware that could result on several new developments, but these were mostly minor things, but if that were anything to go by, then the genuinely important parts of the ship would be a veritable gold-mine. He'd signal his second in command again... "Tustet ote, yetp it atopket yaptaje peas. Je'te jotta jatp po tik pkiy akatp ay yoot ay koyyitpe, jouppt'p jatp out yoskepipoty po yapyk jitp, te pkey ot aty yotp."
And with that, another couple shuttles would make their way to the strange wreck, laden with more crew. They'd hit pay-dirt, and they didn't want to be forced to share.
As the later generation Mjolnir armor remagnetized its boots to the deck, Marshall wavered a bit from the mass he was carrying. They were at the transfer lock, leading to the exposed connection corridor structure and thus to open space. "Alright folks, estimated two minutes to rendezvous with our rides. Veska, you in position?"
"Crimson, make sure you keep up once you get this sorted out." The shorter of the Spartans would sigh and glance a moment at the interior of the main engineering corridor. It was still dawning in her expression that she was alive again, be it by an horrific abomination that had expected to use her against her still living younger brother.
Marshall was already keying the lock open, waiting for it to cycle and allow them entry. Less than two minutes if all went as expected.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Mar 22, 2020 1:34:27 GMT
"Affirmative, holding position 200 meters beyond the breach point," Veska answered as she settled the ship's orientation to provide the largest possible profile for her soon-to-be passengers to land on. She said nothing more, however, wishing to minimize the risk of detection as much as possible. Hopefully, that would be enough, she thought, as she began to plot out the shortest route to reach the Prowler without increasing her risk of detection. For now, though, all the AI could do was wait.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
With the other survivors moving ahead at a fairly brisk pace in the microgravity environment, Vincent would take his time... relatively speaking. While he would keep himself mindful of the radio chatter among Marshall, the Goddess, Anna and Eligos, the black armored Spartan's mind would be elsewhere. Behind them the sound of plasma cutters chewing through the metal hull was growing louder, as was muffled chatter matching that of the radio broadcast earlier. Inside his helmet Vincent would frown. Patch had been useful, he wouldn't deny it. Especially on jobs like this where he'd been deployed solo rather than as part of a team and had to do all of those jobs simultaneously - that had been less an issue after running into Lockheed, Anna and later Marshall, but the fact remained. As did the reality that Patch was a dumb AI.
Macros may have been a leap ahead of the dumb AI of his own time as far as processing power was concerned, true, but at the end of the day it was an evolution rather than revolution. Useful as he'd been Patch was still limited by the constraints of his programming... and it was for that reason Vincent didn't bother asking the AI to attempt translating the alien speech, much as he would've liked being able to listen in on their chatter. Despite their lifetime limitations a smart AI was invaluable when it came to fieldwork - while the risk of loss was higher and they were far harder to replace, they had that spark of ingenuity and inspiration that allowed them to pull off miracles and leaps of logic that dumb AI were simply incapable of.
Tapping his armor's thrusters as he continued to drift after Marshall and the others, Vincent would slowly rotate until he was floating "backwards", looking down his front back towards the containment chamber now dozens of meters back. No movement yet.
Vincent have to see about trying to requisition one if he got back after this. No, not if. When. Truthfully, that wasn't even the question. It was old, ancient by current standards, but back during his time it had been merely theoretical until a broadcast by one of ONI's smart AI in 2552 had proven it possible. After that point it had become common knowledge that the Covenant had done it for centuries, but there was a way to call for help regardless of where they'd ended up. The question was how long it would take for Confed to detect the broadcast and follow it back to the source, and if they would be the first to do so. It was entirely possible that someone else they didn't want the attention of would, but...
Well, if that happened... they'd make it work. Better someone they knew and could understand, and if they absolutely had to Vincent wasn't above taking a would be pirates' or slavers' ship by force. If it could make it out to wherever they were, it could make it back.
With the other survivors waiting at the airlock for the chamber to pressurize and admit them, Vincent would tap his suit's thrusters again to slow his drift even more as he came within only a dozen meters of them, looking "up" and towards the other group as Marshall contacted the Goddess to confirm its position.
"I'll be fine. Soon as you're on the other side of that airlock you make a beeline to that Prowler. I shouldn't be more than a minute or two behind, but you can't wait for me if it comes to that. Soon as you're on board you need to move."
They were through the main entry lock, the doors sealing behind them as the group of four were now in the exposed corridor structure. A few bursts of his armour's thrusters put them back in motion while Marshall kept an eye on the automated rangefinders and other utilities of his late generation Mjolnir.
Fifteen seconds to free space," he reported in his helmet, more for the relay with Veska than for his current charges. Anna and Eligos were still holding on while the comatose armored Eliza was slung over a shoulder. "Crimson, we will be clear of the derelict once we rendezvous with Veska, try not to be far behind, sir."
"You won't have an eldritch freak show to drag you back if you don't, Vince." Anna was far less humorous in her tone than her words should have suggested. "We both go home, we're all we've got now."
Seconds passed, and the blown open structure of the main corridor would give way to cold and empty space. Only the faint star points and hours old light from distant Sol would give any illumination beyond the mounted lighting units on the various armors and hardsuits. Marshall would adjust his bearing as he noted the slowly moving signal that corresponded to a barely visible stealth layered ship. No doubt that was their rendezvous. "Visual on a stealth plated vessel that's moving toward us. Confirming contact, Veska, in forty-five seconds or less."
The Captain was staring at the latest reports and images sent back by his teams over on the hulk, there was little to no indication of who had built this thing until they reached what he assumed to be some sort of power-core. The whole room oozed the usual Orokin decadence with all the gold and stylistic decorations, completely unlike all the rest of the ship. This made him sit up as he leaned forward to watch the feed with added intensity, things just kept getting better and better. "Yakpait, yetyoty ate kiykitj uk yose utuyuap teapitjy it at piypatp katp ot pke kupk."
The words of his Comms officer would bring him out from his observations, unknowns were bad news, that'd have to be investigated. "Yetp a yruap ot ptotey po itteypijape, kup pke yaptajitj peasy ot kijk apetp. Pt pkiy iy a jatttase ityutyiot je teep po te teapy. Te teapy po yetp it teittotyesetpy it pkitjy jo youpk, taipute iy top at okpiot." --- Event Horizon Interior
The sounds of plasma cutters and scrapping metal would halt for a few minutes, replaced by that of what may be shouted orders, the high whine of small thrusters would rise in both pitch and volume as the drones come nearer. --- Space
Five small lights shoot out from the lead Corpus vessel and arc towards a particular airlock where some anomalies were detected, speed and size would suggest some sort of probe.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on May 3, 2020 16:04:48 GMT
Veska watched the sensor readouts at her makeshift command station, smiling faintly when a notice indicated something had just impacted the hull. "Spartan Marshall, confirm maglock to hull," she requested as she continued to monitor the strange ships that had converged on the Event Horizon. "Will make approach to Prowler on positive confirmation." Once she received Marshall's confirmation, the gynoid would engage the maneuvering thrusters once more, though more carefully, so as to avoid dislodging her passengers, and make her way silently across the expanse to rendezvous with the Prowler, where the others could board into actual atmosphere.
The Cyborg remained silent across his trip upon the soldiers back, resigning himself to uselessness for as long as he was inside the dreadfully uncomfortable EVA suit. After all, as his gear was currently inside. Not that it would avail him much. His automatics were all but busted, his explosive revolver was out of ammo, and he had expended all of his molotovs...In all honesty all he had left where his cybernetics and his lockpicks...And something else... The silent trip on the back of the armoured soldier allowed him a moment of peace, drugs and adrenaline no longer affecting his perception and mind with a sharp and simplistic fight or flight response, and instead helping him dive further within... His eyes. That blast that ruined his original EVA suit. Yes the Event Horizon had changed him...if given enough time he might have ended up like Weir, a being wholly divorced from reality and humanity...Heh, would that have been that bad? He already was a bit apart, with the extend of his augmentations, and now...even his mind, the one thing he sought to keep pure, was tainted with something. It was strange...even if given the chance he would not cure it, he would not remove it. No more than he woudl attempt to get his fleshy limbs back. This was him now...and he would have to learn how to use it to its full extent