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the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
A few moments later the airlock would hiss open, pressurized to match the Horizon's interior - and as a group everyone would move forward for the portal to lock behind them and the chamber beginning the decompression sequence. Vincent, for his part, would simply wait in wordless silence as he drew forth the datapad he'd kept stored in his thigh mounted hardcase up until that point. Thankfully it had remained undamaged by everything that had come prior, and as the chamber cycled the black armored Spartan would use that time to pull up information that had been stored on the device from the moment he'd left Earth, back when he'd run with the assumption that a simple mechanical failure had been to blame for the SinoViet crew's failure to report back. Just as the Prowler had been stocked with enough parts to effectively repair or replace any critical system onboard the Beatrice, likewise had the datapad been loaded with all the information that would ever be needed to effect those repairs... or, looked at from another way, everything needed to break whatever you wanted.
In this case, it was the slipspace drive that had Vincent's interest. Not that he wanted to disable it. It needed to work, in fact... just not quite as intended.
A moment later the chamber was depressurized, and the exterior hatch would open... and once again, everyone would be on the move. As Marshall jetted ahead and towards the end of the broken tunnel to bank and make to rendezvous with the barely functional Goddess Vincent's own momentum would fall short with a brief braking burst from his armor's own thrusters - and instead an alteration would push him towards the docking port that the engineering vessel was attached to. A quick entry of the memorized security code as he'd rewritten it during his first few minutes spent aboard the ship and Vincent would enter another airlock, another minute spent allowing it to pressurize. Unlike the Horizon gravity would be very much functional, gradually strengthened as the airlock was filled with atmosphere until his boots made contact with the deck... and a moment later the interior hatch would open.
Vincent wasted not a moment as he surged forward, moving towards the ship's aft and where engineering would be located. As before most of the hatches would have remained open, giving the Spartan a straight shot towards the rear compartments and the room where most of the interior access to the engines was located - as well as a sealed container that housed the ship's FTL drives, a little over twice his size. Markedly smaller than they had been in his time, but that was little more than a passing observation. Locating the access hatch used for maintenance purposes Vincent wouldn't bother wasting precious seconds attaching the datapad for a manual override or trying to locate the default security code that kept the compartment shut for safety reasons. Arm drawing back, a devastating hammer blow and another delivered within the same moment would dent and furrow the metal enough to expose the seam, and digging his gauntleted fingers into the gap would give Vincent all of the leverage needed to rip the cover clean off where it would clatter to the deck somewhere behind him.
The interior, for what it was worth, was clean and fairly organized. A few loose wires leading from one port to another, clumped together by ties, but otherwise the cylindrical drive inside was unobstructed and given plenty of room to cool and operate. Ignoring the various wires, cables and the drive itself, Vincent's eyes would instead focus on the bracing frame that held the drive in place, the mounting that existed as much for maintenance reasons as it did for safety. Lowering his center of mass and reaching into the compartment, Vincent took a moment to recall what he had refreshed in his mind only a minute or two ago in the Horizon's airlock. Hand closing around one of the metal beams that held the drive in place, a momentary surge of strength would allow him to crumple it in his grip as if it were little more than paper. And another, and another after that - the next several seconds would be spent methodically disassembling the drive's internal mountings. Not enough to disable it entirely, but enough to ensure that when it did fire it would not do so as intended. Extricating himself from the drive housing, Vincent would push himself off of the deck and back to his feet, turning to make a beeline towards the bridge.
Still tuned into the shared comm channel, Vincent wouldn't pause as he heard confirmation that Marshall and the others had made it onboard the Goddess.
Clock was ticking.
Entering the rather cramped civilian designed bridge, Vincent would forcibly push one of the chairs aside from the navigation station to allow himself access, restoring power to the ship. As little as he could get away with - too much and it would be detected by the potentially hostile ships outside. Too little and his idea would take too long to implement - just enough that it wouldn't show up as distinct or different from the Horizon's own auxiliary power feeds. Bringing up the ship's FTL navigation, Vincent would cancel out and override the number error messages that would pop up trying to dissuade the ship's occupants from using the drive. Some due to his own sabotage, others due to out of date star charts and an inability to plot the vessel's location on known galactic maps. None of those were needed, and frankly all Vincent needed the drive to do was fire once. Where the ship thought it was going wouldn't matter. A few moments later and after lowering the drive's jump distance to what would normally just be a diagnostic firing of little more than a few thousand kilometers, Vincent would set the ship's systems to start gathering power from its current reserves - a trickle of energy that would be stored in capacitors before being fed into the FTL drive. At current estimates... roughly five, maybe four minutes. Best to bank on sooner rather than later.
Entering another override left behind by Patch's earlier intrusion into the civilian vessel's systems, Vincent would lock all of the existing controls and overrides to his armor's ID, much as the hardcase had been. Turning to leave the bridge he would move again with purpose, this time towards the external airlock he'd first used to enter the vessel.
Mere meters now were between them, the sleek ship that had been IDed as the Dancing Goddess that they were magnetically clamped to, and the stealth plated Winter-class Prowler that was drifting in space. "Crimson One, this is Bravo Five. We're just outside what I assume is your ship, a Winter-class Prowler about a kilometer off the Horizon's hull. Hope you're making good time, sir, since I don't have your access keys."
Anna shifted with an uncomfortable worry as she used the EVA hardsuit's sensor HUD to get a lock on several nearby ships. There was no design matches in the meager archive in the suite's memory, and judging from the stellar positions they were looking at, and the lack of the Kuiper belt around them, they were not in Sol at all. "Advise you hurry up for rendezvous, Crimson. We need to calibrate where we are, because it isn't home, and we have a lot of company out here."
The Captain looked at the readouts from the probes, there seemed to be another vessel latched onto the hulk, and there was a short burst of several heat sources within the vicinity. The situation was starting to become worrisome, too many unknowns, too many anomalies. Reinforcements, that's what he needed... With the press of a button he'd have them en route, and press that button he did. May as well send a salvage crew to that unknown vessel, He'd just keep it mostly proxies until the anomalies could be cleared, crewmen were cheap but robots cheaper. --------------- The Salvage captain was looking at the consoles of his shuttle, the barricades and choke-points were set up, the vents linking their claimed portion to the rest of the ship all sealed with some quickly welded scrap, any Jatttase would need to come at them the direct way. Despite all the preparations, however, he wasn't about to stand out in the open, there were more expendable assets around. Glancing over at the map they'd managed to put together, this was a really big haul, but there were too damn many ways for a potential enemy to hide.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on May 17, 2020 19:25:24 GMT
Veska eyed the sensor display warily as she kept a watch on the situation beyond her ship, then muttered a curse as she took note of several blips approaching.
"Bravo Five, Crimson, this is Veska. On that company, I'm picking up multiple blips on approach to our position. Intent is still unknown. Please advise," she said tersely over the comms. "We are armed, but I'd rather avoid a shootout if at all possible." As a precaution, the gynoid checked over the pulse lasers to make sure they hadn't been damaged in the events of the past hour or so and began running diagnostics. If it turned out they did need to fight, she'd rather know she could trust the transport's defenses to be operational.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
Vincent remained silent as the radio chatter continued, much of it telling him things he'd already assumed from the start. Marshall had managed to locate the Prowler, and with how fast they were moving they would be there at least thirty seconds before Vincent himself was. While it was remarkably efficient the airlock he currently stood in still needed time to depressurize, and the last thing the Spartan wanted to do was draw any additional attention to the smaller vessel if he could avoid it. The other ships present, if they had any sense at all, would be interested in the Horizon. Mapping and securing the derelict would take time - not much if they were using automated drones or advanced scanning methods, but enough.
Regarding the lack of knowledge regarding their position... that was a given. While Patch had managed to recover the Horizon's nav data it was still sealed behind multiple firewalls and partitions to avoid potential contamination, and making any use of it would involve time and hoping that the derelict's jump hadn't been entirely random. Even if it was, though, he had ideas. Time, again, would be a factor, but they were going to get home one way or another.
The hiss of shifting gasses fading as the airlock emptied of atmosphere, the exterior hatch would slide open to reveal the star filled void beyond. Still held down by the Beatrice's artificial gravity field, the black armored Spartan would move with a handful of quick, deliberate steps forward before launching himself into the empty space between the present vessels. Bathing the void in radioactive green as Vincent activated his suit's VISR system again and immediately picking out the near invisible vessels now locked together as the Prowler's position hadn't changed relative to the Horizon, only the briefest bursts of his armor's thrusters would be allowed for course correction as he sailed towards the smaller ships. About a minute thirty to rendezvous, and as expected the other four members of the boarding party would already be there and waiting at the Prowler's rear hatch. Grabbing hold of an exterior safety bar which sharply bent, threatening to tear off under his armor's mass and sudden braking, Vincent didn't bother wasting time speaking as he keyed the rear door open and made his way inside ahead of the others. Boots touching down on the deck, Vincent would break into a sprint towards the bridge - pausing only to disable all controls and access ports in the aft cargo bay lest some of the passengers get any funny ideas.
Settling into the painfully tight navigation station which was not designed with MJOLNIR in mind, the Spartan's hands would begin flying over the controls as he confirmed the Goddess was secure and began programming in a course away from the Horizon - they'd never break the encirclement pattern, but they didn't need to. They had a slipdrive of their own aboard, a properly functioning one. As he did all of that, though, one eye would be kept on the cargo bay's internal cameras, a hand primed to seal shut the rear hatch the moment everyone was inside.
Heavy boots hit the deck as Marshall manipulated his suit thrusters and brought the group he was carrying into the rear hold of the Prowler. As his soles magnetized to the deck, he hurried to get everyone clear inside before signalling to Crimson that they were aboard. "Crimson One, Bravo Five. We are clear, sir. Ready to lock down and get the hell out of wherever here is."
Artificial gravity would take over while the rear hatch triggered to shut behind them. Anna took a moment to free the helmet of her hardsuit as soon as atmosphere was confirmed, breathing in deep. The first full breath of actual renewed life in freedom. "Never thought processed air would feel like nothing else could compare."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on May 30, 2020 21:21:20 GMT
Veska watched the blips approach, even as she secured the docking clamps of the Dancing Goddess to the Prowler's hull in preparation for a Slipspace jump. The blips didn't appear terribly large, so hopefully, they weren't very well armed. Even so, it didn't seem she'd need to wait long, and so wait she did.
"Alright, this is Veska. We're clamped in position for jump. Ready when you are," she announced across the comms, though she kept her hands ready to bring shields to full and arm the pulse lasers, just in case.
As artificial gravity took over the cyborg would crash to the ground with a heavy thump, having released his anchor hold upon the spartan as soon as he had entered the vessel. Apparently unbothered by his sudden fall, the humanoid would twitch uncomfortably along the floor, his digits trying to work through the thick gloves to undo the seal upon his helps. As soon as the tell-tale hiss of the seal being broken is heard, the helmet goes flying across the room, smacking against the opposing door leading further into the vessel. Grunting and hopping to his feet, he would quickly remove the gloves and the suit, almost ripping it off his form before kicking it off into the corner. "FREEEEEDOOOOOM!" The young cyborg shouted, stretching his cybernetic arms into the air, his very much biological spine popping, freed from the confines of the suit not meant to his digitigrade configuration. "Seriously, fuck that suit..."
The two salvagers in the shuttle bound for the new unknown looked at eachother uneasily, they knew they were selected because of their expendability, Lt. said as much. The numerous proxies racked up behind them were gonna be the real workers there, but it still didn't change the fact that they were the potential sacrifices. ----- Over at the initial breach-point, the Salvage captain was barking a new set of orders, barricades were shoved to the side as a wave of wrecker drones were sent out to begin disassembly in earnest. Command had caught scent of several anomalies, and the salvage crew didn't want to stay any longer than necessary. ----- The Captain looked at the readouts from the probes and frowned, they'd clearly found something, several stars were silhouetted by a couple objects and there were several heat sources as well. He'd need a better look though, perhaps it was time for a little experiment. ----- Five little blips would change course to intercept this anomaly, beginning to accelerate at breakneck speed. Projected path would take them within a handful of meters, a nice close look with floodlights at full blast.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
Even as Vincent began powering up the Prowler's systems he took note of two distinct facts. First, they were on schedule. No one was getting left behind. Marshall, Anna and the merc were safely onboard and the rear hatch sealed, the cargo bay repressurizing. The other vessel was clamped to the hull and otherwise secure for slipspace transit. All that should have been left was to power up the Prowler and make their jump before the Beatrice's own drive fired. All of that was the good news - but it wasn't at the forefront of Vincent's mind as something else caught his attention, nearly enough to make him pause with hesitation.
Five inbound contacts, detected and tagged by the Prowler's early warning systems.
Too small to be fighters, but at the same time distinctly not the larger ships locked in an encirclement pattern. Recon or salvage drones of some sort if Vincent was forced to make a guess based on their sensor profiles. He'd been hoping that the stealth vessel's comprehensive passive systems would be enough to mask it from detection given the sheer number of far more visible sensor pings in the immediate vicinity, but something had caught the locals' attention. Doubtful they knew what they were looking at, though, or what Vincent had done onboard the SinoViet ship - any sane individual with that knowledge wouldn't have been sending drones to check up on anomalous sensor ghosts, they'd be backing ships away at full speed... or barring that doing their best to take whoever else was in the vicinity with them.
Regardless, whatever the case Vincent didn't have the time to deal with them. Reaching ahead, Vincent would quickly tag the ship's internal speakers to address the occupants in the Prowler's troop bay before reaching back behind his helmet.
"Brace for evasive action." The message was short and to the point, and with any luck Vincent would be able to trust that Marshall and Anna would know what to do whilst simultaneously securing the merc. As he spoke the hand that had reached back would extract the chip containing Confed's assigned macro AI before inserting it in a slot off to the side, dumping the AI into the Prowler's systems.
"Patch, navigation is yours. Plot a jump and execute, doesn't matter where. Just get us clear."
"Executing. Course plotted, drive charging."
With the drones closing in on their final approach Vincent would do one final thing before igniting the ship's sublight engines - the last thing he needed to worry about now was fire from either the drones or the larger ships. Turning on the ship's active stealth systems, the Prowler's internal heat sinks would kick in to all but eliminate external heat emissions with help from the exterior engine baffles, and as the drones' floodlights snapped on the most they would catch was a brief glimpse of the craft before its active camouflage system allowed the ship to shimmer into nothing, seemingly leaving only vacant space as the light bending field enveloped the two craft. Neither countermeasure would last long before the heat sinks reached their limit, but they only needed a minute - quite literally. Goosing the engines to clear the space the Prowler had been occupying lest the surrounding ships get any funny ideas, Vincent angled the two connected craft to cruise towards and along the Horizon's hull, banking on the idea that any warning or test shots fired would not be aimed in a way that might risk damaging their prize.
Less than a minute remained as the navcom of the Beatrice continued to calculate a random jump into slipspace. The small transport ship began to buckle as the magnetic mountings holding it to the hull of the Event Horizon strained and finally released. The seconds continued to tick away, now ten left as the final calculations were entered by the navcom. Final initiation. The drive spooled up, a rumble coursing the salvage vessel as there was a flicker of energy over the hull…
And then suddenly it was gone. A roiling sphere of black and crackling ether expanded out as if a miniature big bang, filling space and surging to encompass the drifting derelict and anything within ten kilometers of the center point. Not even an explosion escaped before the emptiness filled out and claimed everything in range.
All that had been just as the Prowler and its own attached passenger would jump into slipspace in expectation of escaping the consuming void. And it was enough to truly gain the notice of the vessels that had surrounded them all just before the expanding nothing consumed them.
Stunned silence filled the bridge, The Captain stared at the most recent recordings, the same crackling blackness appearing in every feed moments before they cut out. Looking to each feed, he'd find that only one other vessel survived, that being the shuttle within his hangar. A quick scan would show a couple fragments of nearby ships, every one with a cleaner cut than should be possible according to known physics, as if things simply ceased to exist upon crossing that inky horizon. A few calculations, everything within 10km of one of the anomalous locations was gone, and there was a lot of data that simply didn't make sense. Whoever made this weapon was probably still out there, someone with those sorts of resources wouldn't commit suicide like that.
Orders are barked, the ship turns as it begins the return trip to Maur'duk, Alad needed to know what happened here, he could only hope that the revelation he brought would distract the Director enough for him to avoid getting sacked.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
As Vincent pulled up one of the external aft cameras on the Prowler to center in on the Beatrice he almost felt his heart stop with the worry that they were too slow. He couldn't see the other ship with the hull of the Horizon in the way, but as energy sparked and flashed from over the edge of the hull the Spartan would feel a familiar tug of transitioning to slipspace - only for the portal ahead to flash and widen as the Prowler slipped into the alternate dimension and to safety in what had to be only milliseconds away from oblivion.
And then there was nothing. Only the Prowler's cockpit, and the pitch black of slipspace beyond, the almost silent internal hum of the ship's sublight engines propelling them along in the alternate space.
"Jump complete. Estimated time to plotted destination fifteen minutes."
Vincent didn't say anything. He only nodded, otherwise remaining still. It was the first moment since boarding the Horizon that he didn't feel like someone was watching him or that he might have been in immediate danger, and as that sense of tension began to bleed out from his mind and body the reality of everything else threatened to overwhelm instead. Particularly the inclusion of not the SinoViet crew he had expected to recover from the centuries old derelict but something - someone - else he'd long ago come to terms with having lost. Then there were the two mercenaries, and another Spartan who couldn't have possibly been there. It was a lot to take in and process, even by Vincent's standards and after all he had seen and done in his life. So he would do as he had always done - not deal with it. Not then, not there. Push it down as far as he could and focus on it later when there was nothing left to occupy his attention.
For now, there were still things he could do. Pulling up the Prowler's hypercomm system, Vincent would begin composing a message to FLEETCOM, be it Confed's or anyone else who might share their current encryption keys. He might not know where they were nor might anyone else on board, but if two or more listening stations managed to intercept or receive the hyperburst transmission through slipspace they'd be able to locate the two vessels that had disappeared from Sol. Six survivors, at least two wounded. And more than that, a first contact scenario, potentially hostile, forces and capabilities unknown.
Firing the message off, Vincent would simply sit there in the pilot's seat - and do what he could to keep his hands from shaking as he pulled them away from the keyboard after composing the message.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jul 16, 2020 21:08:45 GMT
A soft sigh filled the otherwise empty cabin of the Dancing Goddess's impromptu command room as Veska replicated the organic sound as all sensors abruptly began feeding the bizarre non-space of the alternate dimension, one much more familiar than whatever hellscape they're more recently traversed. Hopefully, they'd be able to get their bearings once the Prowler dropped out of Slipspace, and they'd be able to get back to Confed space within a reasonable time period.
"Alright, all clear on my end," the AI announced over the comms as she began the tedious task of compiling a full damage assessment. "That said, that thing did do a bit of damage to the ship's main control systems. I'm having to manage with a jerry-rigged setup for now. Do you happen to have much in the way of repair equipment on this level, or are we going to need to make port first?"