HoaS: Eleventh Session Log

[pyrephox]

Anderson scrambles to his feet and follows Paravada out towards the kitchen area in search of some impromptu weapons of silvery destruction.

Paravada gathers spraybottles and aerosol cans.

Rice is being not at all hesitant to get the heck out of the Corridor of Doom and back towards the Kitchen of Incinerating Weirdness.

Morris sure as heck isn't going to be left behind, and follows close after.

Paravada then takes her various objects back to the medbay to fill them up with coagulant.

The travel back out of the shafts is unremarkable, and the crew cafeteria and kitchen is empty when they arrive. The silent tables and empty counters seem to hold a yearning in their emptiness, as if missing their crew.

Paravada works on diluting the coagulant into five spraybottles.

Rice takes a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the bloody back of his hand warily.

The coagulant is divided up into the proper concentrations, and dissolved into the spray bottles. It reacts slightly with the water, turning it a strange yellowish color.

Paravada hands around the spraybottles, keeping an extra one for Kuznetsov later.

Paravada says "Shall we try this again?"

Morris takes his spraybottle, looking at it a bit dubiously. "I hafta admit," he says with a crooked smile, "I'm kinda missing the flamethrower."

"Flamethrowers have a greater distance, I think," Rice says, but he hefts his spraybottle with an attempt at flair. "Onward to...victory, this time?"

Anderson takes the bottle from Paravada, giving a wry smile to Morris, "If Kuznetsov gets his way I'm sure we'll have another one soon. Let's go back there and see how far we can get now."

"Also, flame. I like watching those bastards burn," Morris points out, that same crooked smile on his face. He stands to attention at Anderson's voice, though, and tosses off a quick salute. "Yessir."

Paravada murmurs something under her breath, amused, about everyone always wanting /explosions/ when there's perfectly good /science/ around.

Anderson heads out of the kitchen area, turning to look back at the rest, "I think perhaps grabbing helmets and sealing up the suits would be a good precaution to take."

Paravada nods, and follows Anderson's lead.

Morris falls in behind the senior officers. The shift room with its lockers and helmets is not very far away, just down the corridor moving back towards the med bay. All still looks clear and deserted.

Kuznetsov comes back, riding on Firebug, the other drones following behind, heavily laden with various Parts and Gear.

The rumble is clearly audible down the corridors, the sound almost familiar now as the drone fleet.

Anderson turns to look down the corridor, helmet in hand, as Kuznetsov returns, "So what've we got that we can use against the larger mass?"

Kuznetsov salutes, then gestures expansively... as expansively as a one-armed man can... back towards his drones. "A new flamethrower, a refuel for Firebug here, a crude compressed-air launcher for some equally crude explosives, and a little bit of armor for one of the shipsuits if I take some time to work with it."

Rice elbows Morris, and grins. "Flamethrowers. There you go."

Morris grins and elbows back. "It's going to be a good day. I can tell."

Anderson nods to Kuznetsov, "Good work. You need any help putting that stuff together? We're going to make another try at that hallway. Seems the silver stuff is coating all the surfaces in that hallway."

Kuznetsov sighs, and nods. "I can use some help," he says, and begins describing what needs doing as he begins setting up the second flamethrower, mounting it on a second bug, constructing the thumpgun, and armoring... someone's shipsuit.

Rice gets up to help with the hauling and anything else that needs doing, since it's generally the ensigns' job to do such things.

Morris is quick to hop to, as well.

Kuznetsov looks to Anderson as it comes time to armor up shipsuits, and lets the Boss make that decision.

Anderson pages: Presuming that this "Best man for the job" skill applies?

You paged Anderson with 'It most certainly does.'.

You paged Anderson with 'So what are the criteria you're trying to find the 'best man' to fill, exactly?'.

Anderson pages: Person who'll get the most use from armoring up. I mean, Kuznetsov has our brains, Paravada is the one patching us up, they seem to really like Rice and Morris.. I could just be a bastard and armor up myself. 9)

Anderson pages: Really.. it's kind of moot since I failed.. unless we just use it as a sort of coin flip.

You paged Anderson with 'It was a significant check, not a major one, since you're not in a life-or-death stituation, so you passed. It's linked to Soul, yes? And as for armored up...Rice is the one who is the most injured, and would benefit the most in a real way from armor.'.

Anderson pages: Alrighty then. 8)

Anderson looks the crew over, then jabs a thumb over at Rice, "Ensign Rice can help you get this stuff sorted, then you can see about armoring up his suit. He seems to attract more than his fair share of negative attention and we don't need anyone else wandering off to into the long night."

Rice nods in fervent agreement, then moves over to help with sorting stuff.

Anderson dons his helmet and makes sure it's sealed tight, "Alright, while you take care of that, we'll see how far we can get down towards engineering." He motions to Paravada and Morris, "Let's go."

Morris puts down the tools he was sorting, salutes, and falls in. He spares Rice a sympathetic look.

Paravada follows Anderson.

It's only a few minutes before the group, now reduced to the trio, is standing before the service shaft door again. Morris grips his bottle like he wishes it were a flamethrower.

Paravada steels herself and gestures for Anderson to open the door.

Anderson keys the door open, his spray bottle at the ready just in case.

The door gapes open, and the silver corridor lies beyond, dimly lit.

Anderson stops before entering the service corridor, "Kronos, assign Lt. Commander Paravada authorization for all command level door seals on this deck." He glances sideways at Paravada, "Just in case."

Paravada smiles, wryly. "Understood."

"Authorization granted," Kronos replies smoothly.

Anderson nods, and leads the way into the corridor, warily watching above him as he moves. He slows as they reach the point where the silvery stuff was the last time they were in here.

The corridor continues to look innocent and neutral, the silver tones of the metal walls, floor, and ceiling unchanging, even as they reach the place where the filaments attacked before.

Paravada tentatively sprays the ceiling with coagulant.

There's a sound. First, the soft hiss of the spray, and then, even softer...like spider webs drifting from the ceiling, filaments fall, turning a duller shade of grey, then striking the floor like needles, delicate rings of metal against metal.

"Oh, that's not creepy at /all/," Paravada breathes.

Anderson takes a tentative step back, then points his bottle at the floor and gives it a squirt.

Morris follows suit, although he aims his bottle at the left wall. On the floor, tiny cracks seem to appear, racing across the floor from the touch of the spray. Not cracks, on closer inspection, but thin lines which have gone a duller grey than the rest of the corridor. And from the left wall, other filaments peel away, tumbling downwards to the floor, which now seems to have heaps of fine, metal sticks on it. From the other wall, though, /living/ threads detach themselves, and begin to elongate, reaching for the group.

Paravada changes her aim, spraying the living threads.

Anderson steps forward some a gives the ceiling another shot.

The living threads recoil immediately, wilting from the tip back, shudders passing through them. There's a rustling down the corridor, as if paper is sliding along the walls, trying to move away from them.

Paravada progresses down the hall, then, spraying as she goes. It's like insect fumigation.

Anderson moves along as well, spraying at the floor and ceiling alternately every few steps.

The hissing of the retreating threads is almost like rainfall, now, an invisible rain of soft sound, punctuated by the tiny pings of frozen metal hitting the floor. The hall rounds a corner, and there, suspended in the middle of the silver web, like some grotesque spider's meal, is Senior Security Ensign Jones, very little but bones and shipsuit remaining.

Anderson stops and looks at the web, and another of his missing crewmen entangled in it. He shakes his head slowly, speaking solemnly "Well, at least she didn't get used for spare parts."

Morris shudders, his throat working hard as he looks away. He squirts viciously at the wall a couple of more times, watching the filaments crack and fall away with dark satisfaction.

"... when we have time, she should be brought down and given a proper burial," Paravada says quietly.

Morris points out, "We going to have to bring her down if we want to get through there..."

Paravada sighs, nods, and aims her coagulant spray at the web.

Anderson nods, shaking his head a little once more before turning his own spray bottle on the web, a determined look on his face.

As soon as the first spray hits the web, the entire structure trembles, 'clean' threats yanking themselves away from the hardening, spray-coated threads, and drawing back into the skeleton. It falls to the ground...and catches itself, knees bending in a crouch, then slowly standing. The bone seems lit from within by the silver goo, as empty eyesockets turn towards the source of the pain, and the skeleton lumbers towards the group.

The creature lunges out, swiping broadly and recklessly at Anderson's face.

Anderson backs away a half step to avoid the clumsy swing at him, bringing the spray bottle up and giving it a face full of the anticoagulant mix.

The bottle swings upward, and the creature suddenly reverses its swipe, catching the bottle with the back of its skeletal hand, sending it flying from Anderson's grip and rolling down the corridor, past the creature.

Paravada takes aim, breathing evenly, and sprays the creature.

The air fills with the fine mist, prickling where it touches the humans' skins. But the creature doesn't seem to notice, and Morris curses, dropping the coagulant bottle as useless, and pulling his concussion gun. The skeleton shuffles forward closer, taking another swipe at Anderson's face.

Anderson takes several hurried steps backwards, trying to get out of melee range of this thing while drawing his sidearm and preparing to fire.

As the senior officers draw their chosen weapons, Morris steps up to find a space between them, and fires his concussion gun at the head of the thing.

The skeleton moves in a way that clearly indicates that little things like 'tendons' are no longer controlling form, then lunges forward to leap upon Morris. Its weight bares the Ensign to the ground, and he screams in high panic and fear.

Anderson bellows out several creative curses and bolts for his knocked away spray bottle, scrambling to return to the scuffle as quickly as possible.

Paravada drops to her knees next to Morris and the skeleton, unstoppering the bottle of coagulant. Heedless of the silver threads, she leans in and pours the coagulant into the skeleton through a gap in the bones.

As Paravada tries to pour the coagulant on the creature, it shrugs...well, parts of the back of its ribs rise up through the shipsuit, tearing it, and bat her hand away, spilling the liquid uselessly on the ground. Morris shrieks and tries to draw his feet up to kill the creature off of him.

Desperation is apparently good for the soul, or at least the legs, for his kick connects, and the skeleton is shoved through the air, landing in a heap a few feet away. It doesn't bother to stand, instead it shifts, bones snapping and emerging from the shipsuit, giving it a millipede-like form. It moves forward again, snapping at Anderson as he reaches for his bottle.

The creature finds the Commander's arm, and latches on, its teeth biting deep into the flesh, far deeper than a human would be capable of on its own. Blood gushes forth in a rich, crimson stream.

Anderson yelps in pain briefly before clamping down on the noise, his face tight with pain as he raises his sidearm from his good hand and tries to shoot the thing in the body, hoping to rip larger holes in the shipsuit.

Paravada shouts, "Kronos! Tell Rice and Kuznetsov to get down here now, and bring the flamethrowers!". Then she runs toward Anderson and the skeletonthing, aiming with her spraybottle.

Kronos simply relays the exact recorded words of the doctor directly into Kuznetsov and Rice's ears.

The doctor's spray settles over the creature, firmly, this time, and it shudders, silver going dull and stiff as it hardens. It tries to pull away from them, now, retreating down the corridor.

Morris stands, shaking and shuddering, his gun wavering in his hand too much to fire.

Anderson cradles his arm tightly against his chest as he tries to get up and move back a bit before taking another shot at the retreating creature.

And Anderson's shot strikes directly in the portion of the creature weakened by Paravada's spray; the skeleton literally seems to burst apart, silver goo and bone and shipsuit shredding, then falling motionless to the bulkhead.

Paravada stares at it. "... ah. Kronos, belay that message. I think we won."

Kronos sounds apologetic, "I have already sent it, as it seemed a high priority. However, I can connect you with the other crew members if you like."

Paravada says "Yes, please."

Anderson crumples to the floor again, dropping his sidearm as he tries to stem the flow of blood from his injured arm. It's obvious from his face that he's still in a significant amount of pain.

There's a tiny click in Paravada, Kuznetsov's, and Rice's ears, signifying an 'open line' between them.

"... no need to come down," Paravada says to them, as she goes over to Anderson and uses some of the coagulant for its /intended/ purpose.

Morris stumbles forward, and offers his help to the Commander as much as he can.
Kuznetsov is driving one of the drones towards the maintenance shafts when he hears the call. "Are you certain, Doctor?"

Paravada says "I think so."

Kuznetsov looks at Rice, dubiously, but says only, "Is the way clear?"

Paravada says "Barring further surprises, yes."

Rice looks to Kuznetsov. "Do we...keep working here, sir? Or go help them?"

Kuznetsov grimaces, and stops his drone. "We finish the work." He looks at Rice. "At least. I think." His eyes narrow. "Kronos, end the line." After a moment, "There exists the very, very slim possibility that what spoke to us was not actually Paravada, but..." He looks to Rice. "What do you think, Ensign?":

Rice hesitates. "I think... I think if something else had been talking to us, it would have been less coherent. Though maybe we can--Kronos, are any of them showing those weird life signs, since they left?"

Kronos responds, "Their lifesigns are currently elevated, with Commander Anderson's showing some instability indicative of physical trauma." Kronos sounds a touch worried. "I cannot give confirmation that events support these lifesigns as normal."

Kuznetsov nods to Rice. "I am given to agree with you, Mister Rice." He pauses, and dismounts the drone. "All right, where were we?"

Rice scratches the back of his hand absently. "Well, at some point we were going to do more armor for my suit, which I'm all in favor of."

The bleeding may have stopped, but Anderson still looks to be in a not insignificant amount of pain, "Thank you Doctor." He tries to get his feet under him to stand but with the adrenalin wearing off he's shaking badly enough to make this all but impossible.

Paravada winces. Digging into her portable first aid kit, she hands Anderson painkillers.

Morris quickly moves to offer his Commander a shoulder to lean on, should he so choose.

Anderson stop trying to stand for the moment, gratefully taking the painkillers and remaining on the floor for the moment to wait for the drugs to kick in, "We should spray that thing down with some of the coagulant solution just to make sure it's not going to get back up again."

Paravada nods. "A very good idea." She goes to do so.

Morris also jumps to the order, squirting with much vigor over every bit of exposed bone Paravada doesn't get to first. And then giving it a kick for good measure.

Anderson takes a deep breath and levers himself to his knees, still clutching his wounded arm. "We should get moving." He shakily rises to his feet and moves to retrieve his bottle of coagulant solution.

Morris gives the bones another solid kick, scattering them towards the walls, out of the middle path, then goes to hover by the Commander.

The group slowly continues down the shaft, a thankfully quiet journey that eventually comes to the bulkhead between the Engineering deck and the Crew deck. The bulkhead is currently locked and closed.

Anderson pulls out his PDA, "Kronos, display camera feed from the other side of this door on my PDA."

The screen of the PML flares, and displays a slow pan of Engineering from the other side of the door...or as close as the sensors can get. Various items float lazily through the air. From this angle, there is no sign of Mobano's Legs.

Anderson taps controls on his PML, panning the camera to look around the room and get a good look at the state of things before they enter.

On the whole, Engineering looks undamaged. Mobano's legs are still missing, and there's some sort of equipment attached to the front bottom of the armory door, but largely...it looks intact.

Anderson nods slightly, still looking a little grim, "Ok, everything seems ok in there, but Mobano's legs are not showing. They have to be in there since the room is completely sealed so be on guard." He puts his PML away, and takes the spray bottle in his good hand, "Kronos, reinstate gravity to this section. Unseal and open this door only."

There is no sound as Kronos reinstates gravity, as the bulkhead door is much too thick for that. The sound of the door unsealing and sliding open is only a touch louder than silence. Then, the expanse of Engineering lies before the three, quiet, still, and with an air of waiting.