HoaS: Tenth Session Log

[pyrephox]

Logfile from SamingaMU.

Morris offers an arm as support to Rice, who leans gingerly on it. Both ensigns quick-step out of the way of the drone as it goes about its business.

Kuznetsov hops on the last drone and rides it back to medbay, bags of limbs and all.

The ensigns follow, the whirr of the drone accompanying their journey back towards medbay, soon easily heard by Paravada.

Anderson just lays there, on the edge of consciousness after the thrashing that the Duct ThingTM gave him, trying to ignore the paid. His face shows that he's not doing a very good job.

Paravada hurries outside, catches sight of Anderson, and just as quickly directs the drone back /inside/ the medbay, while she gathers together bandages and coagulant and painkillers.

The medbay looks considerably better than it did last time the group was here. Most of the obvious...stains have been cleared up, and even the fainter ones now look more harmless and innocent. Anderson and Rice both have been...punctured, Anderson on the upper arm, and Rice through the shoulder.

Paravada pours coagulant into the punctures, as it seems to be the closest thing she has to a useful disinfectant.

The coagulant spills into the wounds, the blood around them immediately clumping and darkening to a blackish color. Deep within the muscles of Anderson's arm, something with a silver gleam is washed over, and stiffens in his living meat, like a needle.

Paravada winces. Then she uses forceps to pull that silver bit /out/.
Anderson's whole body stiffens in pain as the remains of the creature cut deeper into an already painful wound.

The silver wire slides out, going brittle and dull as the coagulant works on it. It...appears to be the only infection in the wound. That Paravada can see.

Paravada administers painkillers before stitching it up, then -- the scanner will show, in time, if she's missed something.

Anderson relaxes visably as Paravada removes the offending bit from him, almost smiling as the pain killers begin to work on him.

Closing up the wounds is done....not exactly easily, as there was some significant tearing from the pulling and tugging the creature did on the crew's flesh, but can eventually be done. That, plus the application of painkillers, helps both crew members feel a little more human.

Paravada does /ask/ both Anderson and Rice before injecting them with the drug, explaining the effects.

Paravada notes, in her shpiel about the stimulants, that it's either this or they need to sleep before they do anything else.

Rice is happy to agree to the stimulant caveats. "Better queasy than dead because I'm too slow, right?"

You paged Kuznetsov with 'Also, your arm itches. Right there in the crook of the elbow. It's not /there/ anymore, but it itches.'.

Anderson shakes his head slowly through the painkillers, "No thank you doctor, I think I'll take my chances falling asleep at the switch." He half heartedly smiles and mumbles, "Not that it's likely once these pain killers start wearing off."

Kuznetsov pages: Phantom arm. That's normal. Happened before the cybernetic was attached the first time. Or so Kuznetsov will keep telling himself.

Paravada injects the stimulant into the Ensign. Almost immediately, it is apparent that something is very, very wrong. Rice's arm jerks, knocking the injector aside as his torso convulses with sudden, massive seizures. Inside his body, it feels like every nerve has just caught fire. The pounding of his heart slams through his head, the THUD THUD THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD....silence.

Paravada hisses a curse, and shouts for more, different drugs and also an electroshock device.

Morris scrambles at the doctor's orders to get the drugs, his hands stuttering as he tries to pick the right ones from the cabinets.

Kuznetsov rushes behind Morris, trying to help as best a one-armed man with no medical training can.

You paged Rice with 'Go with it however you like. You're in massive pain, your body is flailing, and your heart as just stopped, but you're still conscious (Oh, the glories of stimulants).'.

Paravada holds Rice down, and tries to prevent him from swallowing his tongue -- and then runs over to the shelves herself, grabbing at supplies with a practiced hand, heading back, and injecting /them/, before attaching the electroshock pads to Rice's chest and preparing to use the machine.

Rice twitches on the ground, and generally looks like he's regretting his decision on this whole stimulant question.

The electroshock pads fire. Nothing. They fire again, automatically raising the voltage. The small heart reader attached shows...../\...../\.../\ and it seems that Rice's heart starts once more. The additional medications seem to relieve some of the reaction pain, but his lips and fingertips have a bluish cast.

"... well, that was a disaster," Paravada says quietly, and helps Rice into a bed, before giving him oxygen.

Kuznetsov says, quietly, "If we have an option, perhaps I shall stick merely to a few cups of very strong tea."

Morris hovers, helping to lift his crewmate to one of the hard steel beds, and peering anxiously into his face. "You...you okay? Hey, no fair dying," he tries to joke.

Anderson watches all of this quietly, his face a cast of marble as Paravada works to save Rice's life.

Paravada says "I ... I think that might be best."

Rice says, weakly, "Serves me right for not reading the small print."

Paravada sort of /fusses/ at Rice, which is not that usual for her. But then, she hardly ever almost kills people.

Morris eyes the doctor warily. "I, um...I think I'll take the tea, too, doctor. I mean, if that's okay..."

"That's fine, Morris," Paravada says, quickly.

Kuznetsov nods, and commandeers one of the drones to assist him in going to the cafeteria and returning with enough tea for everyone still upright.

The drone trundles off with Kuznetsov, a hulking robotic dog walking its human.

Anderson tries to slide himself up the bed up a bit so he can sit up.
The bed is slide-able. In fact, it can even be adjusted with a touch or two to give a more 'chair-like' feel.

You paged Kuznetsov with 'Is there anything else you'd like to do while out getting tea, or just that?'.

Rice is being rather more still than is typical for him, though he's managed a chipper smile for Morris. Movement... just doesn't seem like a good idea right now.

Morris pats Rice gingerly on his non-impaled shoulder, and grimaces. "Well...okay. I mean, at least we're all still alive? And, hey, doc!" He brightens. "We killed the big thing in the vents. The thing that got Ampte!"

Kuznetsov pages: A quick check on a screen to make sure there isn't anything New And Unusual that Kronos detects and that we really ARE down to Cargo Bay 1.

You paged Kuznetsov with 'Nothing new or unusual that Kronos has noted. As far as unusual life signs, you can only detect CB1, and Mobano's Legs in Security.'.

"That's good," Paravada says, absently. She's going around putting things away and trying to calm herself down.

Anderson, now in a sitting position, smiles a little and nods, "That we did. Now we have to go after the things in Cargo Bay 1."

Rice says "One down, one...large, multi-faceted variant to go?"

Paravada says "Something like that."

Morris grimaces. "Yeah. There is that..."

Kuznetsov pages: Good. A quick check: as far as Kronos knows, we're still on course, right?

Rice grins at Morris. "Look at it this way. We're getting /experienced/ at dealing with this thing."

You paged Kuznetsov with 'Kronos confirms course heading.'.

Morris laughs. "Okay, yeah. At least we're winning, I think."

Kuznetsov pages: Excellent. Then, a tray loaded with tea on the drone, we go on back to Medbay.

You paged Kuznetsov with 'You can load tray! For great justice! And nothing attempts to kill you on the way back.'.

Rice looks to the doctor. "Can I have one of the cups of tea when they arrive, or should I stop while I'm ahead?"

Anderson smiles a little bigger, something that's so far been not a common sight, "As the old saying goes, the bigger they are, the harder they fall right?”

"At the moment, I wouldn't drink anything but water, Rice," Paravada says apologetically.

Rice nods. "Figured," he says, with a shrug.

Kuznetsov returns, with a drone -- and tea, which he dispenses. "I presume next," he says, "We shall be retaking Engineering, and securing that?"

Morris gives Rice another apologetic pat, then moves to Kuznetsov, to offer to help dispersing tea. "If we can crack the armory, we might have something that could blow the hell out of whatever's in the bay..."

Paravada nods. "We need all the firepower we can get, I suspect."

Anderson accepts a cup of tea as it comes around, "That or we get into the main medbay and see what kind of supply of Coagulant we can get our hands on. It didn't seem to take that much to at least stop that thing even if it didn't outright kill it."

Paravada says "Some combination of both, perhaps? Coagulant to slow it down, explosives to kill it?"

Kuznetsov nods. "There is always the bioweapon, if nothing else."

Rice says, quietly, "I was sort of hoping we'd come up with a something else."

Morris takes his own tea and sips at it. With a slight, lopsided smile, he says, "Sirs, if it's not presumptuous, I'll say I favor any plan that involves blowing the hell out of this stuff." He glances at the filled tables with the battered crew, and grimaces.

Anderson nods, "Indeed. The upside to using conventional means, is that we know they work, and they don't require us to take any further special precaution in handling it."

Kuznetsov nods his head. "I still want to see just what is inside the Armory, and verify all is well with the engines." He pauses. "As well, we still have a ... hopefully mostly harmless specimen running around on my deck; perhaps we can use it for further experimentation."

Anderson slowly sips his tea, whether he's deep in thought or still a little hopped up on the painkillers it's hard to tell, "We have to get down there first, so we'll need to prepare for a potential fight getting there."

Kuznetsov nods his head. "I can go through and see if there's anything else I can cobble together out of the supply closets... and see just what is hiding back there that... the thing... was using. Maybe it can give us an idea of just what is going on in Cargo Bay 1."

Paravada nods. "That sounds like a plan."

Paravada informs them that at the moment, they are not harboring metallic parasites.

Rice finishes off a glass of water post-scanner. "I think I'm as ready as I'm going to get without a lot more rest, sir."

Morris moves himself over to Rice's side to offer unobtrusive support, if the other Ensign wishes. "I'm ready."

Paravada nods to Anderson. "As am I."

Anderson rolls his injured shoulder slowly, testing it and wincing, "Kuznetsov, see what you can cobble together from the storerooms, take who you need. I'll take the rest and we'll go have a look at the service tunnel entrance to see what we're facing."

Kuznetsov shakes his head. "I and the drones should be able to handle it," he says. "You will need all the rest of the crew with you, I imagine." He pats one of the drones on the "head" and begins heading in that direction, teacup still in hand.

The entrance to the service tunnels that Mobano and his assistant took is not the same as the tunnels that Kuznetsov and the others were taking to Cargo Bay 1. This entrance is over near the crew quarters. It stands, locked and silent.

Anderson heads out of the Medbay and off towards the airlock into the service tunnel. He moves with a certain amount of paranoia, and as he approaches the door he examines is thoroughly.

The door is a steel portal, windowless. It opens by sliding upwards, and seals air-tight should that be required. It shows no marks of damage or disarray.

Paravada says "... nothing /looks/ like they're lying in wait for us..."

The door is as innocent as a door can be.

"Kronos, open the service tunnel door." Anderson orders, still looking wary as the door rises.

The door rises with a quiet hiss of machinery. Kronos says, in a slightly worried voice, "Please be aware, Commander, that I have no sensors other than those installed in your ship suits inside the service shafts. I will not be able to see you."

You paged (Paravada, Anderson) with 'Kronos' voice has an unusual hitch/pause to it when it mentions it will be unable to see the crew. Almost like a catch in a scared man's throat.'.

To (Paravada, GM), Anderson pages: Ai ya.. don't tell me Kronos is going all HAL on us.

To (Anderson, GM), Paravada pages: Thank you for making Paravada TOTALLY PARANOID.

You paged (Paravada, Anderson) with 'My pleasure!'.

Paravada looks briefly disturbed. She turns to Anderson. "... bit -- worried. For an AI."

Anderson turns his head to look at the nearest speaker grill, then giving Paravada a sideways look, "So it seems. "

Anderson looks down the service tunnel carefully before heading down the tunnel slowly and cautiously.

Rice follows along with a recently acquired nervous habit of checking the ceiling and floors as he goes along.

Paravada follows as well.

And so the party proceeds. The lighting in the tunnel is a few degrees lower than that in the main hallways, for energy efficiency. It still makes a comforting blue-white glow in the narrow shaft, as the party makes its way 'down' towards the Engineering deck. The corridor takes several turns, twisting to avoid other quarters, or machinery. There are marked panels to both sides and below, with indications of what machinery lies beyond them.

You paged (Rice, Anderson) with 'As you begin to round one of the corners, you two notice the light shining off of what looks like a delicate silver thread, as it lowers itself carefully, slowly, from the ceiling towards your warm, living bodies.'.

You paged Rice with 'You then notice, quite quickly, that there are several /more/ threads detaching from the very walls off to the sides, reaching out for y'all's feet.'.

To (Rice, GM), Anderson pages: As in right on top of us or coming up in the corridor?

You paged (Rice, Anderson) with 'Riiiiiight above you.'.

To (Rice, GM), Anderson pages: Yipes!

Rice yelps, scrambling back quickly. "...stuff!" He waves towards the ceiling and the walls. "With the stuff! And the walls!"

Paravada backs up quickly.

Anderson stops and blinks a second as his brain suddenly clicks in, "Move!" He turns, grabbing Paravada bodily as he dives back down the corridor from where they came.

Paravada goes flying, pulled after Anderson.

Morris yelps as Rice and Anderson react, and begins backing up with the rest. He gapes and points above the group, where delicate, web-like silver tendrils are pulling down from the ceiling...and yes, sideways from the walls, reaching out with lazy, beckoning motions towards the retreating humans.

Morris and Paravada scramble back away from the fibers, but two reach out and with careless grace, loop over Rice's hand and the back of Anderson's hair. The touch is a sudden burst of freezing cold, then a spreading numbness...

Anderson grits his teeth and tries to scramble away from the grip of the silver tendrils, heading back down the corridor they came from.

Rice is not doing so well with the backing up, and is doing something more along the lines of panicked running back for the door at this point.

The fibers actually pull free, leaving ropes of skinless flesh, as if it was neatly cut. They float down, several dozen now visible as a waving, undulating curtain of silver...and then, slowly, they retract towards the ceiling and walls again, blending in perfectly with the shade of the metal. Morris moves to try and grab and stop Rice from panicking.

Anderson remains on the floor, breathing hard as he turns to watch the tendrils sink back to the walls and ceiling. He reaches back to touch the back of his head where the tendrils caught him.

Rice jerks to an unsteady halt at Morris's grab. "That's--stuff! From the walls!" He takes a deep breath. "I think it touched me. I need to--get scanned, or something?" He looks to the doctor for confirmation.

Paravada says "... when we get back to a scanner, yes."

Morris eyes the walls and ceiling around them with little, frightened jerks of his head. "We could be /walking/ on this stuff..." he says, in a hushed voice.

Rice shudders, and scrubs at his hand. "How are we supposed to get through that?"

Rice's hand bleeds as he scrubs at it, the bright red smearing over his skin.
Paravada says "Are there other useable shafts?"

[OOC] GM says "Only this one goes to Engineering from Crew deck. You could try to plot a route around, but it might be a several mile hike.

Anderson clambers to his feet, still rubbing at at the back of his head. "Maybe we should put a few drops of the coagulant on the floor and see what happens.
Rice waves his hand at Paravada. "Is there enough coagulant for this?" he asks plaintively.

Rice . o O ( It's on my /hands/ and it's going to /eat/ me and wow but this is going to be the most amazing documentary every if I live through this. )

Paravada nods. "It's an idea. And -- Rice first, yes." She smears some of the coagulant on his hand, before warily shaking a few drops of it onto the floor.
The coagulant makes Rice's new wound draw up and stop bleeding in short order. It also itches, faintly. The drops splattered on the floor lie there docile and still.

Paravada sighs. "I really wish I had an aerosol gun full of this stuff."

Anderson nods to Paravada, "No kidding. Well, at least we know that this section of the floor is clear of those tendrils."

Rice stuffs one hand in a pocket to stop rubbing at the other. "Something like a spray bottle, you mean? Mist the floor and see if it reacts..."

Paravada says "Exactly like."

Rice smiles nervously. "My mother had those all over the house, for the cats. But, um, no cats here, so I don't really have one on me. Maybe some of the cleaning stuff in the kitchen would have a bottle like that?"

Paravada considers. "It might be worth a try."

Anderson continues to rub at the back of his head nervously, "We aren't going to get past here without something to test the path."

As he rubs, Anderson pulls free a few loose patches of hair, and his own share of blood.

Paravada goes over to Anderson and administers more coagulant to /his/ injuries. "To the kitchen, then?"

The coagulant prickles coolly as it settles on Anderson's scalp.

Anderson pulls his hand back, looking briefly at the hair and blood on his hand before shaking it to the floor. He nods to Paravada as she administers the coagulant, "Thanks."

* * *

The small army of drones follows Kuznetsov down the corridor, rumbling and buzzing contentedly to themselves as they reach the supply area again. It still reeks in here, of scorched metal and flesh. There's a hole in the ceiling, and a wide, blackened area of the corridor where it was finally barbecued. The floor is strewn with broken glass from the vials.

Kuznetsov eyes the glass, and instructs one of the drones to sweep it up. Meanwhile, he begins taking a short walking tour of the supply rooms, just to eyeball what's still left on the shelves, for various projects -- refilling Firebug, building a thump-gun and some basic explosives, and the like -- just in case the Armory's been swept clean. Besides, it focuses his mind nicely from the events of the past few hours.

The supply rooms are mostly still filled, and many of the things Kuznetsov needs seem to be around...a thump-gun may be difficult, but in the cleaning supplies and machine fluids, he finds enough to rig up some crude explosives and refill the 'Bug. One door, when he opens it, exudes a rich, tangy organic smell. This room is dark.

Kuznetsov frowns. "Kronos, illuminate this supply room."

Kronos says, a touch of professional regret in his voice, "Unable to comply. It appears that this room has suffered a failure of the lighting panels. Repair request logged."

Kuznetsov gestures towards one of the drones. "Turn your light on that room.

The drone complies with a whirr, moving up as its headbeams flare to life. Several rows of pallets and crates, stacked about nine feet high, are revealed.

Kuznetsov follows along, slowly, behind. He draws his pistol. With the other drones, he begins to move into the room, on edge and wary.

The engineer and the drones move cautiously into the room. The smell is stronger, here, seeming to crawl inside the nose and claw at the brain. Its pungency has a quality much like manure, but more acidic. Despite the smell, however, there doesn't seem to be any movement or anything out of place at the front of the room. Long, narrow spaces extend between the rows of crates, back to the back of the room.

Kuznetsov continues to advance, a drone ahead and a drone behind him, headed for the back of the room. He instructs the drones to move their lights up and down, checking the higher rows, just in case. Maybe there's something still in here.
As they reach the back of the room, it becomes apparent that something is out of place. Several of the last rows of crates have been....eaten through, somehow, and are spilling their contents all over the floor. Rich, organic sludge, meant to ensure that any crops planted in the first year of colonization would be entirely well fed, is heaped and spread over the back of the supply room. The ventilation vent above it has been...it almost looks like /melted/...outward.

Kuznetsov takes a step back, looking over the crates.

Kuznetsov checks on his comm. "Kronos, what's the manifest say we have of fertilizer on board? Looks like the Things have been in it."

Kronos pauses for a moment, then says, "There are approximately eight thousand pounds of concentrated fertilizer on board. When properly treated and diluted, this amount can boost the productivity of two hundred thousand acres of earth-like farmland."

Kuznetsov nods, slowly. "How many crates did it take to carry eight thousand pounds of fertilizer?"

Kuznetsov begins stepping backwards, keeping his gun pointed at the mounds of sludge.

"One hundred," Kronos replies instantly.

The sludge lies there, sludge like.

Kuznetsov nods and begins moving the drones about -- moving Firebug up, moving two others forward to move the crates that are UNDAMAGED away from the damaged ones. The plan is simple: clear away a good-sized space around the probably-contaminated sludge, and burn it.
Kuznetsov says, entirely to himself, "At least we won't need all two hundred thousand acres to feed everyone. We'll be lucky if we have half the colonists."

The drones take their orders like the good little robots they are, and start clearing the 'clean' crates away from the damaged ones. Despite their small size, they move the heavy stacks as whole entities, and without apparent struggle. Within about ten minutes, the sludge and the broken crates stand alone, like goths at a Baptist revival.

WHOOOSH! The flame spills out from Firebug, bathing the room in hot, red light. The sludge of the crates sputters, then catches, burning with an eerie purple and blue flame from the chemicals within. After a few moments, a high-pitched screaming can be heard. Or maybe it's just air escaping from the crates.

Kuznetsov watches it burn, quietly, turning one of the drones' lights up on the hole, just in case.

The hole remains silent and nonthreatening as the flames sputter and burn. Eventually, the screaming rises to a shriek, then fades out completely. And not too soon after that, the flames themselves begin to die, the rich organic compounds having now been burned to lumps and ash.