Horror on a Spaceship! Seventh Session Log

[pyrephox]

Logfile from SamingaMU.

Kuznetsov looks at Diotrephes grimly. "We'll need more flamethrowers," he declares, simply.

Kronos comes on, its voice hushed and doing a very good impression of worry as it speaks into everyone's ears, "...this does not match the regular speech pattern of Lt. Commander Mobano, but it is coming from his subvocal unit."

"If the damned thing has somehow taught itself to talk..." Paravada mutters.

Diotrephes gives a great, involuntary shudder, then looks back at her superior. "I'm starting to think blowing the whole damned thing out might be the best bet, after all..."

Work stops on the drones, Ampte and Morris looking anxiously up at the ceiling, then down the hallways.

Kuznetsov nods his head, and toggles his subvocal. "Kronos, locate Commander Mobano, and pause the screens in here."

Rice looks over to the other ensign, and says, quietly, "I wonder if Mobano's still...Mobano, in that thing."

Kronos directs his reply to the room with Kuznetsov and Diotrephes as the screens pause. "He remains outside the armory."

Morris grimaces. "I wouldn't bet on it, Rice. I mean, everybody else got turned into spare parts..."

Kuznetsov rubs his forehead and comms again. "Commander Anderson? Did you hear that too?"

Kronos repeats his statement for the benefit of those in the crew cyro deck.

Paravada makes a blackly amused noise. "Unless Mobano's spare part is the brain."

Rice nods to Morris, and looks somewhat relieved to hear someone else say it.

Anderson stares at the nearest speaker unit with a slackjawed expression. Turning back to the Captain he straightens up, "This thing keep throwing curveballs. So, as I was saying, our other options are limited and dangerous to us as it involves going face to face with these things."

The voice of maybe-not-Mobano comes over the widecast again, "HelllllllloooHelloGreetingsHolajambo.”

Anderson opens comms himself, "Roger that Kuznetsov, it seems to be learning new tricks." He smirks a little, but his voice shakes a little as he quips, "I'm holding out for Shakespeare."

Kuznetsov replies, dryly, "Do not encourage it." He looks back to Diotrephes. "So where do we think this thing is?"

Kuznetsov gestures back towards the screens, to ensure clarity as to which "Thing" he's referring to.

Diotrephes frowns, looking confused for a moment. It clearly takes a minute or two for her to get her mind off of the voice, but she turns back. "Um...one of the commanders' quarters would seem to make sense. It looks like our little bloodbath went down fairly quickly, so I'm not sure if they would have had time to put it away. But if they did, it'd probably be back in the armory..."

Kuznetsov nods his head. "Well, if it is back in the armory, we may as well give up on it for now. If it is still HERE..." He pushes up from the seat. "We can search two rooms fairly quickly."

Diotrephes rises with him, still glancing up at the ceiling. "Yeah...the Commanders' rooms aren't far from each other, either." She glances upward again, scowls, and shakes her head. "Let's go and get it done."

"Doctor?" He looks at Paravada, "Your thoughts on the ability of the sealed cryo pods ability to withstand releasing that bioweapon into CargoBay 1?"

Kuznetsov goes with Diotrephes to do this thing.

The Captain is still obviously a little woozy, looking around, then up at the ceiling, then over at the Doctor for her assessment. "If your man is near the armory, then we're going to have to consider a plan for isolating and decontaminating Engineering, as well. That's going to be...tricky."

Paravada considers. "I wouldn't put a guarantee on it -- but the cryotubes are supposed to withstand almost anything. On the other hand, the infestation itself has gotten into them, so they are likely more vulnerable than advertised."
The two engineers walk down the corridor, hanging a right instead of a left to take them to the crew quarters....quarters that they sadly have not gotten to use, and are beginning to feel the lack of. Diotrephes consults her personal unit, then waves towards one of the doors. "Commander Ortega's room is here," she says.

Over the widecast, 'Mobano' says, "wecomewecomewelcomeinpeace"

Kuznetsov says, dryly, "...for our Pieces."

Kuznetsov moves towards Ortega's room.

Paravada mutters, "I bet you /do/." in the general direction of the monitor.

Anderson nods to the Captain, "The only member of the crew left from the previous shift barricaded himself inside the armory. I don't think anything is getting in there any time soon. That's what Mobano was doing down there, trying to get that man out."

"Don't give it ideas," Diotrephes mutters as the door to Ortega's room slides open. The room is slightly disheveled, but largely intact. Larger than the other crew rooms, the command berths have a desk, a large screen, and several well-concealed storage areas for clothing and personal effects. The box is nowhere in plain sight.

The Captain raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps he succeeded. If these things 'take over' people like some sort of dominating parasite, could the man in the armory be infected, and have passed that infection along?"

Kuznetsov sets to a rapid search through the room, checking under the desk, behind the bunk, and in the closets.

Paravada says "It honestly depends on what the infection is capable of. Until Mobano began talking, I thought it was primarily a skeletomuscular invasion. But if it can instead infiltrate neural tissue ... more is possible."

Diotrephes does likewise, unobtrusively claiming areas to search that are more likely to take two hands.

Which may have been a mistake, if she was going for the prize...as very shortly after opening the first drawer, Kuznetsov can find the neat red package hastily stuffed under some of Ortega's writing supplies. Apparently he has...had...an affection for calligraphy.

Anderson shakes his head slowly, "Mobano last reported that he was unable to get into the armoury, that it had been sealed from the inside somehow."

Kuznetsov looks it over, trying to identify what it IS.

The Captain paces a little shakily, and nods to Anderson's information. "Kronos," she snaps, "deny any requests from Mobano's comm to access any files, information, or screens from this moment. Allow communications going out only, until Commander Anderson or I tell you otherwise." "Affirmative," Kronos replies. "Terminating access rights now."

The package is about the size of a notebook, although twice as thick. The outer skin is red metal, with the writing imprinted upon it. There's a fingerprint slot along the side, although it looks as if someone has been tampering with the edges, trying to pry it out or hack it.

The work on the drones still hasn't quite resumed, with Morris looking rather paranoid, and Ampte fidgeting uncertainly. "Uh...damn...look. Let's just get this done," he mutters to the other two men, but doesn't sound all that confident.

Kuznetsov shakes his head. "So small," he murmurs, and eyes the fingerprint slot. "Hmm."

"Right," says Rice. "Getting it done." And gets back to work on the drones, as best he can figure things out.

Around this time, Kronos informs those in the crew cyro room, "Lt. Commander Mobano is moving away from the armory."

"In what direction?" Paravada asks.

Kronos replies, "He appears to be heading for the maintenance shafts. When he reaches them, I will not be able to track him as efficiently until he emerges," the computer warns.

"Kronos," Anderson calls, "Seal off the maintenance shafts in that area. Let's keep him where we can see him."

Kuznetsov nods his head. "Let's take this back," he says, and stands up. Best to let the others know BEFORE he goes tampering with Mysterious Weapon Tech.

Diotrephes comes over to peer down at the thing, making a "Huh" under her breath. "Doesn't look incendiary," she remarks as she falls in behind him, "it doesn't seem designed to explode."

Kronos replies, "Confirmed," almost immediately. "All maintenance access points from the Engineering deck have been closed."

Over the widecast, Mobano's voice says, "accessdeniedaccessrequestedopenopenopensesame"

Anderson looks at the Captain with a concerned expression, then Paravada, then back at the speaker unit. He seemed about to say something, but them Mobano's voice cuts through the silence and he smiles, "Answers my question. Guess he didn't make it before we sealed it up."

Kuznetsov shakes his head. "Nyet," he says. "Not an explosive... at least, nothing large and explosive... too small for antimatter containment, I would think..." He frowns. "Unless a very small explosive?"

Back at the drones, Morris shudders. "That thing's just creepy. Kronos, can't you shut him up?" Kronos replies, "I have not received orders to terminate Lt. Commander Mobano's communications."

Diotrephes pulls back alongside so she can continue to peek at it. "What good is an explosive that small, though? Anti-personnel mine, maybe, but I can't imagine what good what's his face thought it would do against the invading hordes." She glances up at the ceiling. "And I wish that thing would shut up."

It doesn't take long for the engineers to reach the hallway again. Down at the end, they can see the drone fleet, being...occasionally worked on by Ampte and the two ensigns. Ampte throws them a wave as they come into sight. The door to Shift 1's Cyro room is open.

Kuznetsov lifts an eyebrow, and stops to look over Ampte and the Ensigns' work.
"Kronos, where is Mobano now?" Anderson wonders.

The drone fleet has so far only had one of its members reworked to carry the flamethrower, and they appear to be finishing up that one now. The flamethrower is mounted low on the front, so that the driver/controller can see over it, and looks...ugly as hell, really. But likely functional, at least for a burst or two.

Kuznetsov pats the newly-finished drone. "Good job," he says, patting its "head" again before going into the Cryo Room. "Continue on."

Kronos says, "Mobano is currently on the south end of the Engineering deck, near the sensor consoles."

"Uh, sir?" Ampte speaks up just as Kuznetsov starts to move away. "What are we going to do about...Mobano, sir?"

Anderson blinks, blurting out, "Kronos, revoke all command access for Lt. Mobano."

Morris, meanwhile, eyes the package in the senior engineer's hand with obvious curiosity. He throws Rice a Significant Look.

Kuznetsov responds, without turning towards Ampte, "Give him a decent burial, Lieutenant."

Rice gives the package a quick glance, and then shrugs to Morris, still trying to work out how to refit the next drone without whacking his thumb with something heavy.

Kronos replies, calmly, "Done. All access rights revoked."

Paravada looks toward the package herself. "Where'd you find that?"

Ampte winces, but says, "Yessir." He quickly turns to the next drone, directing Rice to start marking the holes for drilling.

Kuznetsov stops, as he sees the Captain. "Captain Wallis," he says, drawing himself up.

Captain Wallis raises a weary hand in greeting. "Scott. Good to see that you're alive," she nods to him and Magda, then lists in place, stumbling slightly before she catches herself. "Ahem..." she draws herself up and looks at the package. "I see you've found our little prize."

Anderson eyes the Captain, then Kuznetsov, spotting the item he's carrying, "Where'd you get that?"

Kronos chimes in helpfully, "Mobano's life signs are becoming irregular."

Kuznetsov smiles, holding it out. "A little detective work, Commander, and we figured out where Shift 9 hid it... Commander Ortega's quarters. It looks like he may have tried to open it up -- or Mr. Briggs did."

Anderson hrms, turning to Wallis, "So who all knew about this item?"

Diotrephes looks around at the command-staff-type people, then touches Kuznetsov lightly on the shoulder. "Sir, I'm going to go help Ampte, if that's okay? The sooner we get this stuff done, the better."

Kuznetsov nods to Diotrephes. "Of course."

Wallis says, "Officially? Myself, and Admiral Edgars and his staff. The chances of running into any hostile aliens were considered low enough that it was not deemed necessary to make this common knowledge. Unofficially, the ship had to be put together, and the holding area and package installed." She shrugs, one hand going to her temple to rub lightly at it. "The only thing faster than light is rumor."

Diotrephes heads back down the hall to the workers, surveying the scene with pursed lips. She thumps Ampte lightly on the back of the head, but says, "Not bad, sir. Not bad at all. Lift that thing up a little higher," she tells the two ensigns, "so that we don't risk it dragging. Might want to put a counterweight on the back, too..."

You paged Rice with 'You're hearing thumping again. From just underneath where you're working on the drone. And this time, you're pretty sure all crew have been accounted for...'.

Rice hesitates in the midst of helping Morris lift a section of the drone. "Hey, does anyone else hear that?"

Morris looks puzzled. "Hear what?" he asks, and both the engineers look up...just as a section of flooring underneath Diotrephes collapses, revealing a shining mass of silver-and-pink flesh that she's falling into.

Ropey lengths of flesh, with disembodied fingers poking out of the twining muscles, slide around the broken floor tile, reaching up for Diotrephes, who screams in rage, and avoids them only narrowly as she draws her concussion gun.

Rice yanks out his gun as well, scrambling backwards as best he can.

Morris follows Rice's very sound example, pulling out his gun and climbing to higher ground ontop of the nearest drone. Ampte, on the other hand, hefts the wrench he happened to be holding just previous, and charges forward, showing Diotrephes' name as he swings at one of the tendrils.

The wrench impacts with a flat, wet sound, sinking into the flesh until the creature recoils from the impact, that rope sliding back down out of sight.

Upon hearing the scream, Wallis' signs of fatigue vanish, and she spins on her heel, racing for the source of the disturbance. She stumbles as she sees one of the monsters for the first time, her eyes growing wide. She skids to a halt at the edge of the hole, reaching out to try and snatch Diotrephes up.

Instead, however, her hand clamps down on the engineer's shoulder, causing Diotrephes to jerk back, and both women tumble into the hole, Captain Wallis cursing fluently as tentacles reach up to try and grab them.

This time, neither of them are lucky. Silver ropes fasten about both women's necks, the flesh becoming instantly stained a deep and spreading scarlet. Diotrephes gurgles furiously, trying to turn the gun on the tendril choking her.

The shot goes wide, the air rippling harmlessly towards the ceiling.

Rice shoots, as best he can, looking not so much terrified this time around as seriously pissed off.

The thrum of Rice's concussion gun sounds...apparently a sound this particular monster remembers, as the tentacles jerk abruptly to the side, letting the shot pass them by.

Kuznetsov follows out the door... and leaps for the one fully-equipped drone to prime its flamethrower.

Anderson dashes out the door on Kuznetsov's heel. He gives the scene a quick glance, blinks as he just catches the Captain disappearing down the hole. He runs over and takes hold of a grab-handle on the nearest drone, reaching down to make a grab for Captain Wallis.

Anderson's hand grabs at one of Wallis' flailing arms...and catches. With a mighty heave, he tears the Captain from the creature's grasp, yanking her out of the hole...although leaving a good amount of skin behind. The Captain's neck bleeds profusely as she stumbles into Anderson, tiny silver strands wiggling like fish on her bloody flesh.

Morris, his gun now out, sidesteps to get Ampte out of his line of fire, and squeezes the trigger. But the tentacles avoid the concussive blast with ease.

Paravada takes off running for Medbay, shouting over her shoulder, "Back in a second!"

Completely oblivious to what else is going on, Ampte screams Diotrephes' name again, his voice anguished, and slams the wrench into the creature's flesh again and again, actually reaching down with his other, bare, hand to tear at its tough substance.

The Captain gags convulsively, blood pouring down the front of her cyrosuit, the raw flesh of her throat slick and gleaming in the ship's lights. She sags, then collapses completely, in a dead faint. The monster's tentacle waves, seeming almost bewildered, before it reaches out for another annoyance...Ampte.

Ampte is snatched up by the creature, the tentacle rising high, pulling him entirely off the ground so that his wrench swings at empty air. Diotrephes grunts and thrashes in its grip, blood now visible at her own neck as well, trickles of it sliding down and spattering her ship suit as she tries once again to fire.

Her trembling hand doesn't even come close to a good shot, then sags, her thrashing becoming more desperate, and weaker, all at the same time.

Rice tries to take better aim, eyes narrowed. He's not sure that shooting is really doing any good, but he's not quite the action hero enough to try diving in and wrestling the monster, given the options available.

Rice's shot goes off, slamming into the tentacles near their base, where they join the masses of silver and pink goo. The fallen tile heaves as flesh is shredded, the creature shuddering in silent, but obvious, pain.

Kuznetsov thinks a moment, then slides from the current flamethrower to reach his arm back for the one still lying next to the other drone. He lifts it in one arm and heaves it towards the fleshy maw of the Thing.

The flamethrower, bulky though it may be, is hefted in Kuznetsov's remaining arm, and flung...a nearly perfect shot, the weapon bouncing off the edge of the hole before falling in with a metallic clang.

Anderson takes a deep fortifying breath, and while keeping a good grip on the drone with one hand, he plunges his other hand back into the hole and makes a grab for Dio this time.

With an idea of the reach required, Anderson is able to reach out and snatch at Diotrephes' hand and even make it look almost graceful, until he pulls back with a wrench, tearing the woman's body from the monster's grasp. The stark white cartilage of her trachea is clearly visible as she is hauled out of the hole, blood pouring in deadly quantities from her wounds, shot with silver thread.

Morris' eyes widen as he views Diotrephes' ruined throat, then he screams, raises his gun, and fires off several wild shots.

All four shots, ill aimed as they were, go wild, but on the 'bright' side, he does seem to have gotten the monster's attention, as a few of the protusions orient towards the Ensign.

Paravada grabs a laser scalpel, a first aid kit, bandages, and a coagulant. And runs back.

As the doctor scoops her kit into her arms and starts to pelt back down the hallway, Ampte gurgles furiously, his mood apparently not at all changed by now being the target of the creature. He slams the wrench at the tentacle holding him.

This time, however, his angle is bad, and the wrench only glances off the creature's oily flesh. The creature, apparently unhappy with losing its previous meals, takes the opportunity to wind another tentacle around his waist, and begins to retreat, pulling the engineer down towards the darkness of the ventilation shaft.

Dio snarls weakly and fights against Anderson's grip, twisting around to fire a wild shot off.

Unsurprisingly, in her condition, it goes completely wild.

Rice stands his ground, shooting steadily at the creature.

Kuznetsov begins punching controls on the drone rapidly, adjusting angles and trying to get the drone to fire the flamethrower low, hopefully not hitting Ampte. Much.

The flame bursts from the nozzle of the rigged flamethrower, scorching past Anderson and his rescuees, the backwash of heat tightening their skin. It splashes against the creature's chimerical form, but does not manage to set off the flamethrower in the hole. Still, the creature heaves again in pain, tentacles flailing.

Apologizing profusely under his breath, Anderson takes a hold of Dio's and Wallis' suits and begins to haul them both bodily off towards Medbay, dragging them along the floor.

Morris sees the creature retreating, and bares his teeth savagely, stepping into the still heated air in the wake of the flamethrower to fire off down the hole.

This time, he actually hits with one of his wild shots, blowing a tentacle--already scorched by flame-- clear off, the severed thing flopping to the floor of the corridor and squirming hideously.

Paravada drops to her knees next to Diotrephes, and tries to -- well. Stop her from dying, basically.

It's a sloppy job, but liberal and frantic application of the coagulant to the pulsing rawness of Diotrephes' neck seems to slow the bleeding to something more manageable. Curiously enough, the small silver threads also seem to squirm away from the coagulant, their movements growing slower and stiffer as they go.

Meanwhile Ampte screams in a breathless way as he sees his imminent doom ahead of him. He raises the wrench and tries to pry the tentacles off of his body.

Ampte shrieks again as his hand sinks /into/ the tentacle, and then the creature pulls him below, the flow beneath the crew making grinding sounds as it retreats rapidly through the ductwork, Ampte's screams growing muffled and peculiar.

Paravada shifts her attention to Captain Wallace, and attempts to coat /her/ wounds with coagulant as well.

Screams can be heard, again and again, growing fainter....then abruptly stopping. But Paravada's hands remain steady as she applies the coagulant to the lesser wounds on the Captain's neck. The bleeding slows, and so do the filiment, freezing in place.

"That’s /really/ interesting," Paravada murmurs. "And useful." She stands up, lifting Diotrephes as best she can, and attempts to move her to the medbay for further treatment.

Rice lowers his gun, slowly. "Fuck," he says, quietly. He looks over to Morris. "You okay?"

As he's still standing right there, Anderson takes the other end of Diotrephes and helps Paravada get her into the Medbay.

Diotrephes can be moved; she went limp and semi-conscious the moment the creature sank out of sight, and doesn't struggle. The Captain is still out cold. Morris trembles, his gun still pointed at the hole, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Kuznetsov slowly rises off the drone, and stumbles around the pit, a little wobbly in the knees. He pauses to look down into the new hole.
Rice tucks his gun away, not without one last wary look at the hole, then moves over next to Morris. "We need to help them move the people out here who still need help," he says, quietly. "You with me?"

Anderson looks over his shoulder at Rice and Morris, "Rice, Morris, grab Captain Wallis and bring her to Medbay. Carefully."

The ventilation shaft yawns beneath, almost deep enough for a tall man to walk upright in. The metal looks all shiny, as if freshly polished, and a few flecks of silver goo cling to the edges of the hole, squirming faintly. Morris flinches as Rice approaches, the gun jerking in the other ensign's direction for a moment, then he lowers it, his skin pale and ghostlike. "Here," he rasps. He jumps nearly out of his seat at Anderson's order, then holsters his gun and shuffles towards the Captain, deadeyed.

Rice hurries over to help lift the Captain, keeping a close eye on the other Ensign.

The Captain is easily lifted, and hauled into the medlab.

Kuznetsov stares for a long moment into the shaft. Perhaps the shaft looks long into him. Either way, he shakes his head and whispers a goodbye to Ampte into the shaft, and then sets off towards the medlab with the rest of the group.

Paravada begins to treat Diotrephes with some of the more /serious/ equipment she has at her disposal -- skin grafts, pressure bandages, antibiotics.

After they lay the Captain down on an empty medlab table, Morris backs away shakily until he reaches the counter, and then just leans on it, his body shaking silently. Diotrephes is easily, perhaps even gratefully, doped up and set into a pressure bandage. It seems that the coagulants have made the silver threads easy to pick off, as they gnaw lazily at her exposed flesh.

You paged Rice with 'Everyone seems pretty shaken up, obviously, with Morris the worst (or at least the most demonstrative) of the lot. He's feeling useless and helpless, that someone who was standing practically RIGHT NEXT TO HIM could be taken away so quickly, and he didn't do a damn thing about it. The best tack is probably not to leave him to his own devices, but to try and help him realize that he did the best he could to stop it.'.

Rice moves over towards Morris, now that the Captain's set aside. "We got two of three back," he says, quietly. "Not what we might have wanted, but it could have been a lot worse. If you hadn't distracted that thing, it might've gotten hooks into more people than it managed, especially the ones who couldn't exactly fight back."

Morris' breath is ragged in his throat, and he doesn't look at Rice at all. "I should have done more. He...was...he was right there. I could have grabbed him, held on to him...I should have stopped it..." his voice is low, but intense for all of that.

Kuznetsov flops down somewhere not far from Anderson. His voice is low as he asks, "How many more can we lose?"

Anderson doesn't immediately look up, his voice just loud enough to be audible, "Doctor." He then raises his head to make eye contact with Paravada, "What's their status?" His voice and eyes both seem cold, and devoid of emotion. Kronos seems like a comedian by comparison.

You paged Paravada with 'Both look like they'll live. If they're not infected.'.

"You could have grabbed him and gotten pulled in too," Rice says, leaning against the counter beside Morris. "You made the smartest decision you could, to try shooting it. And it's not like we're exactly combat troops who are supposed to be all cool under fire, you know? We're doing the best we can. Don't beat yourself up about it because it didn't work this one time. I mean, you helped me get free when that thing grabbed my face, remember?"

Paravada sighs and smiles faintly. "They'll live. If I don't have to cut into them to get the parasite out, that is."

You paged Paravada with 'The Captain 'just' had her skin ripped away, like a really nasty rugburn. She seems to be mostly in shock, from this and the detubing combined. A good five or six hours rest, and should be fine.'.

Morris glances at Rice, then quickly away, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I...guess. It's just hard...I keep seeing it, thinking of everything I could have done. But all I could do is try and /kill/ that thing, and for a moment...I didn't care if I hit Ampte or not. I...maybe I should have killed him. Better me than that thing..."

Anderson stares straight ahead at first, "We couldn't afford to lose one." The sentiment in his words is lost in the deadness of his voice.

Paravada goes over to touch Anderson's shoulder lightly. "We haven't. Though it'll be hours before the Captain is functional and -- longer. For Diotrephes."
<> Kuznetsov says "How do the vent shafts go around the medbay?"

"Tell you what," Rice says, and gives Morris a small smile. "If anything like that happens to me, I give you permission now to shoot me with a clear conscience, okay? It's--I mean, we don't exactly want more of this, but it's the kind of thing only experience makes any easier. You're doing a damn good job under the circumstances, because it's not like any of us is managing to save the day just yet either. We'll work this out together, and get that damn thing dead one way or another."

Kuznetsov slowly gets to his feet and moves to the back wall. He rests his head against the wall, pressing his ear to it.

Anderson looks up at Paravada, the cold in his eyes hardening slightly, "And what of Ampte Doctor? What are his odds of survival?"

Morris starts, then chuckles weakly at that. "Only if you'll do the same for me," he says...he tries to make a joke of it, but it comes out sounding flat and serious. "And...yeah...I guess we will kill that sonofabitch, one way or another." It sounds like a promise.

Paravada looks blank. "As Ampte? Nil."

You paged Kuznetsov with 'All is silent in the halls of the dead. All is quiet in the halls of the dead. The silence is...so very loud.'.

Kuznetsov shudders and moves away from the wall.

"Fair is fair." Rice chuckles along, shaking his head. "You know, once we get out of this, this is going to make the most /bizarre/ documentary ever. Stellar ratings. I mean, assuming they don't classify the whole thing. I figure, I can't die. Who else in this crew would know how to put together a show?"

Anderson turns away from Paravada and looks quizzically at Kuznetsov, "What is it?"

Kuznetsov shakes his head. "Nothing. ...which is eerie in itself."

Morris snickers, and reaches up to punch the other man lightly on his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Always talking about your stellar future in show business. When we make planetfall, you're getting the news station, y'know." He smiles, then glances over at Kuznetsov, his expression vulnerable again. "Nothing from Ampte?"

Kuznetsov shakes his head.

"Someone's gotta be the star," Rice says quietly, and then turns his attention to the other people in the room with more information.

Morris sighs, crosses his arms over his chest.

Anderson rises from his seat, still looking quizzical as he copies Kuznetsov and presses an ear to the wall.

You paged Anderson with 'There's a low vibration, more felt than heard, as if something is thumping and bumping around in there. It's far away, though, and seems to be retreating.'.

Anderson furrows his brow, eyeing Kuznetsov, "There's something there, but it's moving away. I'd guess that all the ventilation ducts have been compromised."

Comments

[dreadmouse.livejournal.com]

This is all hella creepy and very well done. Pyrephox, you are an evil genius.

[pyrephox.livejournal.com]

Mwuahahahhaa! Thank you. :)

Although, the thing about horror games is that you /have/ to have good players to make it work, and I've got some of the best I've played with, so. :D

[dreadmouse.livejournal.com]

I absolutely agree that good players are a must, especially in horror. But good players without a good setting, atmosphere, NPC's, and plot wouldn't have much to work with.