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"Can I just remind all contracted employees that Dusk Corporations takes no responsibility for any damage to person or property. Holovid recorders will be active throughout the expedition to document this exciting discovery! Should harm befall any member of the security or repairs team, holovid footage will not be available for use in courts of law." A female Lyiri spokesperson with the Dusk logo of a setting sun is standing at the front of the cabin. She has dark blue fur and holds herself with pride as she addresses those gathered in the cabin of the ship. "Hello, and welcome! Please feel free to talk amongst yourselves as the ship nears its destination. I will be available to answer questions in regards to the mission."
The cabin itself is a sleek black metal affair, dim green light floats lazily from overhead. There are a few seats and a spiked metal cage shoved in the far back of the room.
From where she is buckled into the snug, coffin-like enclosure of her acceleration couch, Reilly sips from a paper coffee cup and quietly reads from her tablet's holodisplay. The pictures indicate it's a write-up of the New Resilience talent show fiasco.
Tiana Ryoleli hangs about near the hatch leading further in to the cockpit, arms crossed lightly over her chest and her chin pulled down. By all appearances, she may very well be taking a nap standing up.
"Grey!" comes the whining from Willow who is actually dressed in grey business attire, which includes a suit. She makes her way out of the kitchenette area "Grey. Hey Grey!" She pauses as she regards the intercomm, and she thumbs the buton. "Grey. When do you want us to start serving the inflight meals? Did we bring meals?"
When Vadim isn't off fighting wars in the name of Outversers everywhere(your welcome, by the way), he sometimes gets invited to small expiditions. There was a time, years ago, that he actually was more involved in salavage and mining. So it might be suggested that he's here not only as a guest, but an advisor should he be able to assist. Also, he just needed to get away from all that crap. Althought he couldn't do it without at least one Conferdate solider coming along for the ride. Who isn't much of a conversation partner.
"She can't take it captain, the engines, they're going to explode!" Dement gasps, as he reads aloud a written story from his tablet-PDA. "Scottish accent?" The scifientist frowns, making vowel noises to himself in the hopeless bid he might accidentally lapse into one. "Well." he mutters, "I don't know what a 'Scottish' is, but I can't imagine they survived long if they were trying to use a dilithium regulated reaction." He rolls his eyes.
"Grey isn't joining us on this expedition," The Dusk Spokelyiri informs Willow with a flick of her tail. "But any and all questions can be addressed to me! As for in flight meals, we have some emergency ration packs in the front, I think."
Currently all the expedition members are gathered in the cabin of this ship, as it heads towards the station. At the head of the cabin, a female Lyiri with dark blue fur acts as spokesperson.
"You're all aware what we'll be doing today, right?"
"We have some emergency rations..." Willow mutters, as she arches a brow, as she continues to peer out of the kitchenette area. She ducks back into the kitchenette area, but doesn't come with rations. "Anyone want a glass of water?" she calls out.
"Yes ma'am," Reilly replies succinctly to the Lyiri, for her own part, though she spares no more than a small glance up from her tablet. Her frame shakes and rattles once when the motion dampeners sputter and lapse for one uncomfortable second, and instinctively, she slaps her southpaw over the mouth of the cup.
"Shouldn't fuss s'much, Willow. Ye ain't entertainin' potential investors. We all know wut we're 'ere fer, darlin'. Relax a spell." Tia offers to the fussing nuller.
"Visiting a new station, da?" Vadim grunts from his seat, trying to not have a stare-down with OC solider that came with him. "Though it was never specified if this was a new station or a newly -found- one." he makes sure to note. To enclosed to smoke in here and that makes the Ungstiri tap his foot impactiently. A shrug then. "Either way, I'm grateful for the invitation given to the Confederacy."
"That is an excellent question!" The Lyiri spokesperson's feline eyes brighten slightly. "It is in fact a newly discovered station. Of course, Dusk Corporations have laid their claim to the station, and initial repairs are expected to commence today! Now there have been reports of heat signatures in chambers of the station that are without life support. I would like to take this opportunity to point out that no living thing could survive in those parts of the station." She pauses. "Yes, likely we're dealing with zombies. Warm zombies."
Vicky is rockin' the Obsidian Dust not too far away from the Black Dragonfly, trailing a few small ships of Phyrrian repair bots that Mr. Grey had requested. Well, paid for. She keeps the comms open for the spokeslyiri and leans back in the cockpit, listening in.
"Zombies aren't warm." Dement snorts sidelong, his attention span flitting from the book, to a small game on his PDA, to the conversation and, well, it's cyclical. "It's more likely to be giant space hamsters. They're in everything at the moment." He glances up, "What movie are we talking about?"
"Hello Mrs Ryoleli!" Willow calls back cheerfully. "Oh, it's nice to make everyone comfortable for flights. I guess I'm the hospitality person today." She makes her way back out of the kitchenette area and leans against the wall, as she clasps her hands in front of herself and she continues to smile brightly. "So no one wants a drink?"
Reilly could not be less amused by the felinoid's jibe, or Dement's. Her brow darkens over red, glowing eyes. "More likely faulty equipment. I'm glad you brought th' bleedin' contractors in 'fore yer readings were legit."
The Lyiri spokesperson seems genuinely surprised at the possibility that the station won't be infested with space zombies. She notes something down on her PDA. "Y-yes, you're absolutely right. Faulty readings..." She doesn't sound convinced, her ears drooping slightly as she considers the possibilities. "In either case, our first priority will be to restore power and life support to the effected parts of the station so that the security and repair teams can secure those areas."
"'Allo Miss Tomlinson, did Fauzey give ye any troubles while ye 'ad 'im? Aught needin' replaced 'er wot?" Tia inquires, pushing herself off from the wall, "Bein' 'ospitable's allus nice, aye."
"So. Your basic salvage the station and repair what you can kinda joint?" Vadim sounds almost happy about this, glancing at the solider next to him. "See? Told you it'd be fine. Razor worries too damn much." Digging out his ringing PDA, he grins a little lopsided at the spokeswoman. "Zamichatyel'na. Be looking forward to get some work done." Glad he didn't wear his suit this time.
"Oh, mister Fauze?" Willow says with a that same smile undying. "No problems at all. He was well behaved and it was nice to have company around. He's never any problem. Of course you do have to consider what trouble he might get himself into before he gets into it." She pauses for a moment. "And clean up after he's been eating cake. And keep the closet locked, just in case he might mistake it for a toilet." To the Martian's final statement, she closes her eyes and offers a nod. "Certainly is!"
The ship lurches as reverse thrusters are engaged, an approach being made to the station which now lights up every viewscreen in the cabin.
While once appearing to be a run of a mill space station from 4009, this station has seen a fair amount of damage. Where the operations centre and bridge might have been, there's nothing. The section has been completely destroyed.
There are two landing bays, one for those visiting the station on business. The other is intended for more industrial means. Pits and scars mar the face of the station, suggestion that it could have been either attacked or at one point used as target practice for those passing by.
However the station is far from unarmed, with plasma weaponry resting dormant on the outside of the hull.
The station itself could be described as a spinning top in space. The main landing areas are on the widest levels, while the station gets thinner as it goes further down towards the reactor and maintenance.
"Guess I should suit up." Dement ponders, looking down at the billowing comforter that appears to be doubling as a shirt. "Mmrr." That top score isn't going to beat itself, and what'll happen to the crew of the ship in his book?
Vicky's voice comes from Black Dragonfly's console. "We have a /lot/ of work to do."
As their destination comes into sensor range, Reilly switches gears, killing her idle reading and wedging her cup between her knees to better facilitate jacking her tablet into one of the Dragonfly's waiting access ports. The relevant data regarding the station's structural integrity and flagged danger zones floods onto a waiting datachit, and a three-dimensional wireframe of the vessel constructs itself before her eyes. She scrubs her face.
The Black Dragonfly signals Vicky's ships to follow as it makes its approach to the smaller of the two landing bays, setting down in the darkness of the station with a heavy THUD.
"Okay!" The Lyiri spokesperson starts cheerfully. "Dusk Corporations, putting the rations in corporations!" And with that she opens the boarding ramp.
Vadim leans to the side, then forward as the ship lands, already having a feel of how the Dragonfly sits in space. He's been tapping away on his PDA, probably taking notes, eyeing structure points that can either be riping for salvage to repair other or simply places to avoid going until they know it's safe to transverse.
The lights are shut off, life support is running on minimal power, the air is thin and carries with it the stench of decay and that faint scent of the wind before a storm. Dried blood litters the ground here in thin puddles, where there are signs of a heated skirmish that could not have happened more then a few months ago. There are no corpses, but the stench of death is thick and clear.
The airlock that leads further into the station is sealed shut. A computer terminal is active beside it, "LOCKDOWN ACTIVE" blinking in red letters across the screen.
Giving a bit of a stretch as she steps down the ramp, Tia asides to Willow, "Did ye manage t'keep 'is alcohol an' drug intake down? Bloody pukes like a sailor at t'drop of a 'at, 'e don' need fuel fer 'at fire."
Willow has brought her guitar case with her. Who knows, it could be handy to have a musical instrument. She's staying near Tiana. She wrinkles up her nose, as she turns the torch that she's brought with her. "Eww. What's that smell?" she asks in concern. She gives a nod to the woman she's with and nods. "Oh, I did. He wasn't sick once. He did cry once, but I think it was because he was homesick." Nope, no mention of threatening to dye him pink!
Vicky taps something into the touchscreen on the navigation console and steers the NPE ships into the landing bay. With the usual hissing and clacking of hydraulics, the ships dock and the ramps lower to allow teams of repair bots to disembark, all in perfect square formations. Vicky moves to catch up with the rest, stopping near Vadim and wrinkling her nose. "Smells pleasant," she tries at sarcasm.
Dement... doesn't disembark. Perhaps he got stuck on that game. They're addictive, you know, and they turn you into a crazed killing machine. It was on the news.
Reilly is the last to disembark, and has already donned an atmosphere suit, though in the relative safety of their current location she has eschewed the oxygen feed and filter for an up-flipped faceplate. "What's our first priority?" she calls over the commotion.
"Could the repair team do something about those lights? Expedition leader to repair teams, could you do something about those lights? Did someone check the life support in here?" The Lyiri spokesperson taps her commlink before she gets sight of Vicky. She wrinkles her nose at the sights and smell about her. "Did anyone bring a mop?"
"Smells like fun." Vadim wryly replies, wearing a breathing mask, grinning over at Vicky. Seeing how there's air in here, he'll pull the mask down to hang around his neck. Turning his gaze to the Confederate solider, he makes a guesture to stay put. "Look after this ship. Y'know, just in case. I got Vik an a bunch o' Phyrrians with me. An the Dead Hand." he notes, patting the pistol in it's leg holster. "Be alright." He claps the Sentinel on the shoulder. "See? This is stuff I love doing."
Last to disembark? I daresay those are counted eggs that hatched! Or something. Anyway, the point is that Dement straight up dismisses that pose and disembarks after Reilly, tugging down a slightly oversized atmosphere suit himself. Along with the usual information readouts and electronic repair equipment tied to his body and belt he's carrying a heavy looking toolbox and a head-mounted torch, not quite mounted to his head. "Someone help me?" he murmurs, at the back. It sounds even smaller, thanks to the tones that are lost through his outward speakers.
Vicky smirks at Vadim before nodding to the spokeslyiri, "Give us a few moments." With a hand motion and a chirp of binary, she signals for one of the repair bot groups to follow her, and Vadim too, across the landing bay towards something like a circuit breaker hub. With a heavy CLACK, Vicky flips the switch for the lights, but they only flicker a few seconds and go out, so she steps back to let the repair bots do their thing. With a fair amount of drilling, soldering and sparking, something starts to hum to life, and Vicky peers up at the light fixtures expectantly.
Vicky gets a peering at from Tia for a moment, then the girl turns to look towards the Lyri spokeswoman, Willow passed a smile along the way, "Missus." Offers the Olympus' owner, "D'ye know if'n 'ere's any sort ah AI on 'is station?"
"Oh no, don't you even think of making me mop this place clean!" Willow cries out at the spokeslyiri's words. "So not in my contract to do cleaning." The beam of the torch slowly swings across the area, almost as if the girl was looking for something. Tia gets a strange look, and she tilts her head to the side as she regards the Lyiri.
If Reilly had been the last to disembark, she might have been on-hand to help Dement, but instead she's busy prepping her own materials - double-checking the power on her suite of scanners and penlights, then keying on a well-loved and well-maintained multitool. "Life support. Aye-aye," the Sivadian echoes, crossing the bay amid the resounding echo of her own heavy bootfalls to begin a three-step process: checking to ensure it's safe to turn on local power, and if it is, wiring up an external generator and finally beginning a concerted effort to vent any toxins and restore habitable atmosphere.
Vadim goes along with Vicky, watching her usher orders about the repair bots. "Y'know, I'm going to feel downright useless with you an your buddies at work....hey wait. Walking forward, he kneels down at section of exposed bundle of wiring. "Vik, you got welder on you? These lines are gonna need to be spliced. Sure, the repair bots will probably get to it, but damnit, this particular Ungstiri doesn't standing aroudn and doing nothing if work is right there in front of him.
Vicky and Vadim's efforts at repairing the lights do not go unrewarded. Their makeshift repairs to the circuit breaker hub causes sickly black smoke to drift into the air. After a moment the lights flicker on as power floods their systems.
"AI?" The spokesperson raises a brow. "Did you see the command level? Or lack of it? I don't think there'll be anything of an AI left to speak of."
The lights flicker and shut down. "Unauthorised access of the docking bay, detected." Flashes in red across the consoles by the airlock.
The Lyiri spokesperson blinks. "Can someone fix that?" Her tail sways as she shifts her glance to Willow. "Oh? What /was/ in your contract?"
Snorting, Tia shakes her head lightly, "AI's core files wouldn't be anywhere near t'command center. T'ousing fer 'eir files woul' be about t'size o' a small room, missus." After a moment jade eyes flick back, and the girl wanders over to see what he needs help with, giving pause as the message is rolled out about unauthorized access.
"Oh I'm sure we can find something for you to do," Vicky grins, fishing a small welder from the polyester pack at her hip. She tosses it to the prez, and when the automated voice speaks up and flips off the lights again, Vicky gives the breaker a kick. "Keep at it," she tells the bots with a sigh.
"Kay." Dement says in a crestfallen manner. He bumbles forwards, walking over to the loose wire where Vadim is crouched and taps his head-mounted flashlight (currently mounted sideways, between his ear and his left eye). It flickers on, giving the man a little extra light to work with. "Hallo." his external speaker transmits.
Reilly is a sprawl of limbs and clunky footwear on the deck beneath the control panel, her voice muffled and stunted by the low frame of the maintenance nook. "This ol' iron's still swiggin' juice, but I can't tell 'ow much," she reports, feeding the generator's line into the auxillary power supply. "I'll try an' get some good oh-two on main deck. Gimme a tic."
While most people are working away on the eletrical systems, Willow slowly saunters over towards the computer terminal. "Standing around and looking pretty," she chimes to the Lyiri. She presses a couple of buttons, most likely to see what else the console has on its main screen.
Vadim catches the welder tossed from Vicky. "Da, well, you've been keeping me busy so far. Fixin' your hoop an whatnot." he says over his shoulder at the PHyrrian. "Let's see...some of these wires are melted through...hold on. "Digging a knife out of his pocket, he cuts out the bad section and starts to connect the two ends with the welder. As he works, the light offered by Dement is helpful. "Privet, Dee. Haven't seen you in awhile. What brings you out to the ass-end of nyet-where?"
The life support and lighting systems appear to be resisting repairs. When-ever it looks like the appropriate bypass is made, the system loses power again. How-ever, some crafty engineering sees controls to the landing bay blinking to life.
Lights flicker on and the ground rumbles as fresh air starts to circulate about the ventilation pipes of the station, breathing life into its tired veins. The cool air is a refreshing change from the heavy scent of rotting flesh, but the lighting bring the remains of the bloody struggle here into sharp focus.
"Dusk Corporations would like to remind its new employees not to track mud on the station! Can we someone to clean that up?" The Lyiri spokesperson is looking about the landing bay, whiskers twitching. "Lots of clean up to do..."
Tiana Ryoleli follows Willow over to the computer console, coming to stand beside her to peer down at the message on screen, "'Ow's yer efforts comin'?" She calls over to Reilly and crew, tone of her voice showing she's got some suspicions of her own, "Ah!" She exclaims as fresh, cool air is breathed into the landing bay, "'At's a bit better."
Aww. The system gives Willow a message about intruders being in the docking bay. So she presses a few more buttons to see if she can get more information about the intruders. "Well, least it smells a bit better in here," she says, as she looks towards Tiana. "Mrs Ryoleli, do you know much about computers? I'm pretty much useless at everything that isn't entertainment."
"Contracting now, Mr President." Dement says with a quaint little smile, eyes glancing upwards at the unusual to-and-fro of the lighting arrangements. "It's been easy getti..." He blinks as the lights come on and he properly gets a look at the indicators of the stations violent past. "What in the wald is that?" He queries, indicating one of the nearby dried blood patches. He glances sideways, across his peripheral suit screen, at the Lyiri. He frowns. "Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time?"
Vicky rolls her eyes, still smiling as white-hot strings of sparks fly. When the lights finally submit to the electricity, she balls a fist in a small gesture of victory and turns to summon the rest of the repair bots. "Spread out and make a perimeter. Take the most damaged structures first," she orders in binary. Shining optics flicker in unison, and the groups turn to get to work, stepping over whatever gruesome organic bits they come upon.
The thrum of the awakening systems is met with a triumphant howl from Jay Reilly. "That's it, lass, /that's it!"/ With a second, shorter yip, the ginger greasemonkey grips the lip of the console and slides herself out, levering herself to her feet with the terminal's assistance. It is when she is replacing the panel that a thought appears to strike her - and, with a furrowed brow, she thinks to check the Dragonfly's supposed false heat readings against those of the revived life support system.
"M' /best/ wit' computers, missus, don' you worry 'bout a thin'." Not going for a fully submersive 'dive' as it were, Tia seems to do nothing more than stare intently at the console, while meanwhile, in her head and through her datajack and attempt is being made to wirelessly connect to the station's systems.
Vadim leans up from his work, seeing the lights flicker on. Wether or not the lights turn on because of his actions is moot, he's happy enough that nothing blew up in his face. Kneeling up, he finally gets a good look around the bay. "Well. Someone had a disagreement with someone else." But being the curious guy that he is, he comes to one of the pile of bits and kneels, smell be damned. "Hard to say how old this is. Space is a hell of a refridgerator." The howl gets him to glance over at Reilly and after pulling away he has an odd sorta look on his face. It's washed aside before going back to Vicky. "Wanna see if we can make our way to engineering? See how this place's power plant is holding up?"
There's a strange noise that accompanies the rattle of the ventilation systems now. It's a soft slithering noise in the far distance. The noise is growing louder.
The computer Willow is tapping at appears to be unwilling to divulge any more information about the nature of the intruders at this time.
The Dusk Corporations spokeslyiri pads towards Dement, if rather hesitantly. "Can I help you, sir? Have you analysed the extent to which the repairs will need to be conducted to bring power to the rest of the station."
Willow frowns at the computer monitor, but she doesn't try anything else. She actually moves to the side and lets Tiana do her thing. The strange noise draws her attention towards one of the ventilation entrances, and she cants her head to one side. "Uh, do airvents always make that noise?"
Reilly stares at what she's seeing. "Those 'eat signatures aren't false," she confirms over a general broadcast to her fellow contractors. "Be careful. Christ knows what rifted o'er with this 'eap."
"Vaddy, wait." Tia calls, raising her voice so it can't go missed, "Don' go anywhere yet." Turning, the Martian looks over those gathered, though her gaze focuses on the Lyiri spokeswoman and it's a firm one at that, "There /is/ an AI 'ere, an' fancy 'at, i' don' want us 'ere seems like. Seperation ain't a good when we don' know if'n i's malicious or not yet, but ah don' think 'is gore is a good indication."
"Well th-" Vicky pauses in her response, stiffening at the slithering sound within the ducts. "Do you hear that," she murmurs to Vadim, her hard gaze darting, hand drifting to the pistol near her pack.
Dement gives the spokeslyiri a bit of a cold stare, "I have a number of questions." He murmurs, glancing back at Vadim and watching as the Phyrrian's move on their commands, "I think the most pressing of which would be whether you have had a suit-team land on the station prior to our arrival? Only when people start saying things like 'Christ knows what rifted o'er with this 'eap' or 'don' think 'is gore is a good indication' I start to think you're initial appraisal of this station was somewhat illegally negligent." His accents, being the cunning linguist, are remarkably well put out.
Vadim had almost forgotten that Tia was hear, he was so focused for the moment on what eactly what everyone listening to. Granted he was about to head down to try and find the way down to engineering, but that sound plus Tia's warning gives him pause. Enough to slide Dead Hand out of it's holster. "Well da, figured that, tovarisch." he replies to Tai. "Is the AI angry with us or does it want us to leave beacuse whatever the hell is in the vents?" As he asks that, he goes back to standing by Vicky, perhaps slighly protective. "You hear anything?" he stage-whispers to the Sentinel.
Those who are unfortunate enough to not be able to resist the strange telepathic influence can feel a foreign mind burrowing its way into theirs, like a worm tunnelling into their very brains. ~We come.~ The thought forces its way to the front of their minds, and is accompanied by the flashes of images of a creature strange beyond words. Skin of green and brown pulsates and shifts with her movements. Her eyes glow red as coals, spiked and leathery wings spreading, coated in a slick goop behind her. The images fade as soon as they've come, but a slightly dirty feeling remains.
Vicky lets her eyes drift towards the pair of vents near that sealed airlock, taking up her pistol. "Yes," is her simple answer, her weapon humming to life. Oblivious to the... pulsating mind invasion going on, she heads towards the airlock.
A colorful litany of expletives bursts from Reilly's lips, but the broken damn suddenly plugs itself with a silence so abrupt that one might wonder if the Sivadian was stricken dead where she stands. Her multitool drops from numb fingers and clatters on the deck, prologue to the engineer herself buckling into a half-sick slump atop the terminal. Breathing comes in choppy, ragged rattles until the illusion melts away - and for Reilly, it feels like an eternity.
Oh no. Oh no no no no no. The slow widening of Tia's eyes and quick drain of any colour from her features expresses this quite nicely, her body posture stiffening to the point of rigidity. Her fists clench together so tight her fingernails are near the point of breaking through skin, a gentle tremble soon releasing the rigity to show an obvious and prominent degree of fear. A scream is slow to build up in her throat, but when it's released it's as piercing and wrenching as though someone were in the middle of murdering her, rather than invading her mind.
Vadim's reaction is at best, subtle, but then again it wasn't as bad as it could've been. His head makes a 'tic' motion, followed by twitch of the eyes and a wince. And he just kinda freezes for a moment, gaze going unfocused. When whatever that was decides to release it's grasp, he's holding his head with his free hand. "What the flyin...argh!" So strong it actually forces the Ungstiri to a knee. "Goddamnit!" he grunts, pointing his weapon in a random jerky direction, as if expecting that was a prelude to an attack of some kind. Or a physical one.
Willow's eyes dart from one vent to another, and her brown eyes seem to be searching for something. She takes a step back away from the airlock door, and her fingers curl tightly around the case of the guitar. The intrusion attempt batters her defenses, and she closes her eyes tightly. She takes a step away from Tiana's and her psi blocker and appears to be concentrating hard. "countering," she announces in a very distracted but loud voice. If all goes to plan, she'll try to hit back at the Queen.
Dement is caught frozen, unable to process the events being forced into his mind as he struggles to shake off that morbid feeling that accompanies forced psionics. He murmurs something. The pink suit flees, even before Willow's single word makes any sense to him he is on the boarding ramp of the IND Black Dragonfly. And then the airlock.
Vicky stops dead in her tracks when Reilly curses and Tiana shrieks. She whirls around, expecting, well, some sort of attack, but then Vadim falls to a knee, and Vicky grows a little more than anxious. "What... What's the matter? Vadim?" Well, Willow seems to be trying to do something about it, thankfully. But Vicky's not too keen on remaining unhelpful, and looks around for something to shoot, trying to track that slithering.
The rumbling slithering grows loud enough to hurt ears, loud enough to drown everything else out. It seems like it's never going to end, and then it's gone. Silence descends, so thick that one could wonder if there had ever been a slithering noise at all. A fitting contrast to the telepathic attack which had ravaged those on the landing bay.
The ventilation pipe access points near the airlock explode with about a dozen of little spider aliens. Each one about two feet in diameter, they form a small horde which surges towards the expedition members, namely Tiana and Willow.
The Lyiri spokesperson is banging on the airlock Dement has disappeared inside. "Let me in! Ancestors take you! Let me in!"
There are currently eleven spider aliens in the docking bay.
Dement is unable to tell the Lyiri that he didn't lock the door as he is currently in the on-board toilet, attempting to disappear downwards into the bowl. "Gelieve niet te eten me hersenen monster. Ik ben niet lekker. Ik promice ik ben niet lekker. Ik proef zoals rubber." He whimpers.
Vadim is down, but he's sure as hell not out. Though his vision is starting to clear, it's kinda hard to miss the alien creatures all over. "Gospadi....it's the Olympus all over again." he grunts. Lost Cause is drawn out of from his other holster, both pistols fired up and ready to go. Firing from the hip, he pulls the trigger on both of his weapons.
Tiana Ryoleli, frankly, does nothing but scream and scream, pulling herself into a tight ball.
So what does Willow carry in her guitar case? It's certainly not a guitar, but actually a katana. In a practiced movement, the guitar case is opened, and the weapon removed and held protectively in both hands. "Saints curse you Kamir spawned creatures!" she growls. Of course she does fall back on her tried and tested trick of yelling at the problem in a very loud voice. "Why is every space station that's abandoned have to have psionic thingies in it?! I'm going to slow roast the damn psionists!"
Reilly's brains are still as scrambled as eggs, and she unfortunately maintains only the dimmest sort of awareness about her surroundings. /Danger/ is the only red flag that registers. /Danger. In there. In the station./ And so that therefore is where she directs the full of her efforts, doing her absolute damnedest to hold it together long enough to seal off their present location and blow out the remaining vents and airlocks.
The horde of spider aliens scuttles at speed towards Willow and Tiana. Shots of plasma fire whir over them in lances from Vicky. One of Vadim's shot causes one of the spider beings to explode in a gory mess, but it is quickly trampled by the others.
Reilly's tampering seems to somehow hit the right switch, and the ventilation ducts seal shut with a loud metallic CLUNK. There's a loud rattling noise as the multitude of space spiders still in the ventilation system are vented into space. If one were looking at the station from the outside, they might see several dozen quite surprised space spiders floating out into the inky void.
The alien spiders nearest to Willow jump at her and Tiana. A smaller group, aggravated by weapons fire, breaks off and runs at Vadim and Vicky.
Vicky doesn't stop firing, searing hot bolts of energy grazing the blood-spattered floor where she misses her mark. One of the spiders goes PAFF from Vadim's shot and she gives his shoulder a quick tap with her barrel before Reilly's success makes the ducts seal and launches the hapless into space. She /tries/ to keep an eye on the ball of Tia, but quickly gets distracted with the smaller group skittering for her and Vadim. She fires into the small pack again.
Vadim is still a little wobbly as he gets up to his feet, already moving his aim as he blows one of the spiders into a much. Sidestepping to avoid being flanked he moves towards Vicky, trackin the barrel of both Dead Hand and Lost Cause to bear on two more. Then he gets to wear he wants to be, the back of his shoulder bumping against the Phyrrian's back. "Just me." he growls lowly, pulling the triggers.
Smack! Tia gets smucked by a spider alien, bloodied tears appearing on her arms and a lesion or two marking her head where those nasty claws get her. Immediately her screams are redoubled, the girl flailing wildly at the beast.
Willow twists away from the spider, and with the side of her blade deflects it away from herself. It's all performed in a graceful movement, though her priorities have shifted from protecting herself to now trying to protect the Tiana ball. "I'm here!" she calls, as she tries to slice into the creature that's attacking the other woman, and also avoid hurting the woman currently being attacked.
Such swift annihilation of the station's resident arachnid population comes at a price: Reilly is oblivious to the skittering approach of one of the eight-legged freaks still present in the docking bay. There are two screams when it lunges for the back of her neck - its own shrill, murderous skree, and the girlish, high-pitched yelp from the woman herself, both of which devolve into furious shrieks and grunts as each wars for dominance over the other. Its fangs find her skin and the point of her multi-tool its eyes, again and again and again, until black ichor and red blood spackle the deck beneath them. When their flailing, violent dance reaches its end, the spider is dead - but the Sivadian is prone and incoherent, bitten in half a hundred places and swimming in venom.
Vadim's shots once again find a target, one of the spider aliens heading for him and Vicky gets shot through the head, causing it to come to a shuddering half. The others in that small group heading for the president and the phyrrian are close enough to pounce now, claw tipped legs flailing to burrow into flesh, venom dripping fangs seeking tender skin!
The alien on Tiana hovers over her back, and appears to be about to insert some kind of stinger into the base of her neck when Willow cuts the spider clean in half. The fight is far from over though, as another spider jumps at Willow's legs.
Vicky manages to get the hell out of the way of those fangs JUST before they bury into a heel. By now she's pretty splotched with spider blood, which slings from her as she whirls her pistol on the creature attacking Vadim. "No!" The tip of her pistol glows a blinding blue before discharging, hopefully upon the chitinous body.
Vadim makes another mess on the floor. Er, with his gun, that is. However the one that was he had missed gets close enough to leap at him, all multi-limbed claws and limbs reaching to tear at him. The creature manages to slash across his chest, slicing shirt and skin. About to kick it off him when it too is blasted away before him by Vicky's ultra-steady Phyrrian aim. The glance at her is quick and brief, but thankful. No time to do anything as, there's more coming. Re-setting his fire he outstretches his arms, taking aim and trying thin down that herde that think they're all lunch.
"Outoutoutout." Tia murmurs between hoarse breaths, her previous position resumed once the spider alien has been taken care of, and as if it had never happened in the first place. She rocks gently, hands with splayed fingers pressed to her face and the lesions all over her body, "Stayouttam'ead." Tears welling in her eyes, the girl seems to remain oblivious to anything not directly interacting with her.
Indeed that space alien spider does take out Willow's legs, and the nuller hits the ground with a cry of pain when her knee hits the floor. She doesn't lose her sword though, and maintains a tight grip on it. She's in a rather awkward position to be fighting in, and so she tries to rely on her flexibility to try and twist so that she can try to remove the spider's legs.
Spider guts are flying! Both of Vadim's shots paint the landing bay in gooey black alien guts. By now the sickly scent alien flesh is hanging heavy in the air about the landing bay. Willow manages to slice into the spider alien attacking her, leaving only three left in the landing bay. Three spider aliens which don't have to share a glance to tell that shit has hit the fan. They high tail it back towards the ventilation system, which is still sealed shut.
Vicky wipes her black-smeared cheek with a coat sleeve, eying the remaining trio of spiders as they make a break for it. With a rather emotive growl of anger, she runs after them to light up the floor with a string of energy, aiming for their bodies.
He may be covered in black spider viscera, but Vadim doesn't particuarlly notice that. He'll just take a long shower later and hopes his clothes will be salvagable, nevermind the blood that seeps to soak his shirt. Adreneline is still pumping for the most part, so he's not going to feel that cut until after everything is said and done. And it won't be until those three are taken care of. Or rather, hopefully there'll just be one. Two more pulse shots; one blue one red lance at a pair of creatures.
Willow scrambles forward once the spider attacking her is dead, and she slowly and gingerly gets to her feet and seems to be favoring one leg over the other. She takes a few moments to scan for hostiles, and then stands by Tiana to once again act as a guard. The katana is held protectively in front of her again. "Uh, anyone know how to clean spider guts off swords?" she squeaks.
Vadim takes out one of the pests, but the other two manage to avoid being splattered across the ground. The ventilation ducts may be sealed, but that doesn't stop these particular pests from burrowing into the metal itself, using sharp claws to disappear inside the maintenance passageways. It makes one wonder how many holes are like that in the station that these things could be using to get around?
"I think that concludes our tour of the landing bay..." Murmurs a rather shaky Lyiri standing beside the boarding ramp to the dragonfly, and trying not to look too scared.
Vadim lowers his arms, air escaping his lungs in a slow draw. With the twin arm jerks of motion, he holsters both of his weapons. Looking around, his expression is that of the Grim Kapitan that's so familiar. "Hoop. This is the second time this has happened." he mutters, hissing when he looks down and touches the gash on his chest. Not going to need stitches but, it's going to hurt for awhile. "You find an abandoned station and full surprises." That's when he notices two people on the ground. Since Willow is atending to Tia, he trots over to Reilly. "Hey, hey. You still with us?" he snaps his fingers in front of her face. Having enough wherewithall to check for a pulse, he can tell she's still alive, before putting his arms around the Sivadian and throwing her into a firemen's carry over his shoulder. "This one is going to need to see a medic."
Vicky resists the great and sudden urge to hurl her gun to the ground in frustration. But eh, they're gone, or at least not attacking. "Well," she frowns, "There is more of a pest problem than we had assumed. We might need to gas this place." She wearily looks back to Vadim, and rushes to join him and poor Reilly. "You were bit! Are you all right? You shouldn't lift anyone if you're injured!"
"Did... Did those things just go through the hull?" Willow says in surprise, as she stares at where the spider vanished. She gives a single swipe of the sword to clear the spider blood away. She kneels down beside Tiana, and presses her hands to where the claws had sliced through stockings and skin. "Miss Ryoleli... Miss Ryoleli, focus on my voice."
Tiana's muttering has devolved into Martian Latin, the utterings, for those who can understand it, nothing more than the same things - that she wants the voices out, for the most part. Willow isn't even taken note of until her touch is felt, tear streaked face lifting up to focus on Willow. However, she simply continues to mutter in Latin.
"We at Dusk... Corporations... would like to remind..." The Lyiri spokesperson can't seem to finish her sentence, tears streaking down into her furry cheeks. She taps her commlink on. "The Landing Bay is secure... secure as any part of the station! This is a grave! This will be the home of our bodies!"
"Be fine, Vik." Vadim grunts. Sure, it hurts, but so does a lot of things. "Ain't nothing new." Ungstiri seel'niy; don't ever that Vadim isn't. Carrying Reilly as he is, he looks back to where Willow and Tia are. "We should get the hell outta here and someplace with an acutal damn doctor." Closing on the ship with the panicing Lyiri, he frowns deeper. "Ma'am...-ma'am-, need to calm down, da? They ain't coming back for right now, but you're gonna need a hoopin lot more people if you're gonna claim this station for your company." Pending on wether or not is words have any impact on her, he looks at the Sentinel and jerks his head the spokeswoman a 'you wanna try?' kind of gesture.
Vicky does little more than roll her eyes at the Lyiri carrying on. Vadim's gesture gets a mildly bemused grin, but she doesn't actually go over there to slap a bitch. Instead, her attention is drawn to Willow and Tiana, who has remained on the floor. "Tam- er, Willow, ought we get Miss Ryoleli onto the ship? We shouldn't linger here for long." The bot kneels to /try/ and take Tiana up in her arms, if the Martian will allow it.
"Come on," Willow says to Tiana, as she moves a little closer. "Let's get you on your feet and away from here." She looks back to Vicky and offers a nod to the Phyrrian. "You're more suited to moving her than I am," she says in agreement. She shakily gets to her feet and makes her way towards where the guitar case was abandoned. The Lyiri gets a look, and a little shake of her head.
Hopping on the ship seems to be a good decision. With everyone seeming to be heading towards the ship, or inside it, the Lyiri isn't far behind. "Grey? Grey are you reading? We're going to need a lot more money to sink into this place. What? You /do/ it!" Can be heard as she disappears through the hatch into the dragonfly.
"Vik, I'm ridin' back to Materi Syna with you." Vadim replies walking up the ramp of the Dragonfly long enough to deposit Reilly into bunk/chair/couch/toliet/whatever is around before coming back out. Glancing back that solider who came with him, he frown at the man. "Alotta help you were. Get on the damn Dust. Be with you in a bit."
Tiana isn't resistant to being picked up, gaze slowly turning towards Vicky, wide eyes almost distant in their look - like she's not quite with this reality anymore, "Servo lemma sicco. Commodo commodo , servo lemma sicco." She whispers to Vicky, over and over again, clinging like a frightened child.
Willow returns the katana to where it belongs, and she takes a few moments to make sure her clothing is in a neat order again. Excusing the spider blood that has stained. "Damn it, I need a dry cleaner. Again. Oh damn it, I've got a hole in these stockings. I've only just brought them!" she complains, as she walks back towards the ship that brought them in. "What's up with Grey?" she asks the Lyiri.
"Sure thing." Vicky takes a quick digital count of the repair bots, then summons what's left of them back to the ships. When Tiana starts whispering in clearer words, Vicky only lifts a brow, but is sure to keep her grip tight as she totes her back onto the Dragonfly. "Fas omne est, nemo venit ad vos adepto." Setting Tiana down on the nearest bunk she can find, she waves Willow over to hopefully look after the apparently horror-stricken Martian before making her way back to the Dust.
Not much else to do, so Vadim gives a glance over his should to make sure Vicky is heading the Dust's way before disapearing into the ship.
Back on the dragonfly, our nameless Lyiri spokesperson shuts off her commlink with a soft sniff. She jumps as Willow appears, perhaps expecting more spider aliens. "Oh... he's not happy." She replies with a frown. "/He's/ not happy. Like it was /him/ in the firing line today."
"It's not your fault," Willow says to the spokeswoman, as she makes her way over to Tiana and she sits down beside the woman. "I've got an idea, though. It might help out with the next attempt." She reaches out to rest a hand on Tia's shoulder, and regards the Lyiri. "We gas the station. Judging by the holes in the metal, it should be easy to pump the station full of toxic gases. Of course it would require a considerable amount."
PILLOW, HUGGED. Tia hides her face against the soft construct, flinching slightly at Willow's touch, "Keep 'em outta m'ead." She mumbles towards Willow.
The Lyiri offers Willow a stiff smile as the human talks to her. "Anything if it means that we don't have to fight those things again... that's it, you know? I'm a spokesperson! Not a warrior." She stifles a shiver and shakes her head. "If we can access what passes for a central control hub, we might be able to get control of the systems required to fill the station with gas..." In her paws she cradles her PDA, several camera modules are blinking to inform her that what transpired tonight has been recorded. "The Phyrrians and the Orion Confederacy have our thanks." She says at last, tapping her commlink on to make sure Vadim and Vicky receive the message. "Without your assistance, this expedition may have ended a lot sooner."
"Da." Vadim states over the comms, on board the Dusk. "It wasn't a problem, that's what the Confederacy is here for. If you plan on takin another whack at this place. Let me know. Next time, I'll try to bring a bigger gun."
Willow moves her hand to brush it through Tia's hair, in an almost sisterly fashion. "It's alright," she says softly to the other woman. "I'm here, I'm not going to let them get into your head." Her eyes shift back to the Lyiri, and she gives a little nod. "Hey, don't beat yourself up like that. No one knew what was going to happen. As for the AI core, I have no idea where that is on that thing." She slips a thin PDA out of her pocket and considers the now cracked screen.
"T'AI core woul' be somewhere near engineerin'." Tia mutters, her words spit out so quickly, and in such a jittery way, they may be misunderstood, "I' may not be obviously accessable, an', an' s'prolly 'idden behind access panels."
"We will. Thank you again, President, Ancestors know peace." The Lyiri spokesperson slumps back in her seat and brushes a paw through the fur of her forehead, sticky with sweat. "I'm done." She says. "Grey can fix his own damn station."