Mora Station, located near the edge of the Amadora asteroid field, was originally constructed as a forward exploration and guard outpost using equipment and supplies left over from the failed Braga project. During the earliest days of The Order's expansion into Omicron 100, Mora served as a small outpost to resupply Order patrol craft defending the coreward sections of the system against Nomad incursion, specifically incursion via the Omicron 92 jump hole.
Following the conclusion of the Nomad war and the routing of Nomad forces in Omicron 92, the bulk of The Order's militant forces stationed at Mora were withdrawn to support The Order's endeavors in other locations throughout Sirius - only a skeleton crew was left behind to ensure that Mora would be operational if the need for a fallback base ever arose.
Over the course of several years, Mora fell into a state of disrepair, with the only addition to the station's personnel being a small group of scientists tasked with studying the Omicron 92 jump hole and the derelict nomad facility that lay beyond it. Eventually even these personnel abandoned the station, returning to more important work and leaving Mora as devoid of life as the smaller asteroids that surrounded it.
Now, seeking to establish a base of operations seperate from the Militaristic side of the organization, the Order Science Division has returned to Mora to reclaim it, moving dozens of scientists, engineers, and their equipment to the near-forgotten Amadoran outpost to begin their work anew...
Kaylee stepped off the unloading ramp of the personnel transport into the dark, abandoned flight deck of Mora Station. Half an inch of dust, mixed intermittently with grease, fuel, and oil, covered the floor, making it feel as if she was stepping onto an immense sponge. The air was stale, and laced with the stringent odor of old machinery.
"Well, this isnt quite what I was expecting... it's going to take ages to get this place running again." She mentioned as a security guard helped her down from the shuttle. Shortly after, workers began unloading supplies from the shuttle to the flight deck, leaving streaks and wheel tracks as they moved in new equipment.
The first order of business was restoring power. Mora station had an old nuclear reactor at it's core, spanning both the central and upper levels - it wasnt the most advanced technology, but it was reliable, and easy to work with. Two workers carrying a shielded case full of plutonium fuel rods shuffled by her towards the small lift leading up from the flight deck, and Kaylee followed their lead. The flight deck itself was relatively empty, with only one ancient - and apparently damaged - Anubis class fighter left in its hangar.
The lift had to be temporarily powered by a portable generator, and as the doors opened to the mid-level crew deck Kaylee was met with a pressurized blast of air reaking of death - whether it was a person or some animal that had been left behind, she didnt know. She and her entourage quickly made their way down the hallway towards the next lift, fighting the urge to vomit as they hooked up the portable generator once more.
Fortunately, the upper command deck met them with no such ill odors, only pitch black hallways and the eerie, resonating sounds of solar radiation bombarding the thin rock ceilings above them. Such sounds are common on asteroid bases, especially those in the near vicinity of a large star, but the superstitious often assumed it to be the wailing of ghosts. Once the station was powered up again, the hum of power cables and electromagnetic shielding would drown out these 'ghosts'.
The team split up, with Kaylee and her security escort heading to the flight control room while the engineers and workers made their way towards the reactor. One of the guards pryed open the control room door and Kaylee stepped in, making her way towards the communications console to hook up the portable generator. Through the iced-over windows at the front of the control room, she could see the carrier Bastet looming in the distance.
Once the generator was active, Kaylee dusted off the communications panel and opened a channel to the Bastet, "Come in, Bastet, this is Commander Staite, do you copy?"
"Reading you, Commander, but just barely, scans are showing the station's transmitter array has been damaged, probably from an asteroid impact."
Kaylee sighed, this place was a wreck, but it was all they had, "Copy that, the engineering team is refueling the reactor as we speak, start sending over cleanup and repair crews, this is going to take a while..."
A small docking bay door on the flight deck of Mora began to creak...
Suddenly, the jammed door snapped open, and seemed to bend out of shape as it turned inwards. The pressure seal hadn't been engaged for years, and the metal crept to the point of deformity. The door wouldn't seal again if closed, and the airlock definitely wouldn't function until it had been replaced. "Ah, crap...", the figure mumbled to himself.
He along the deck in the dim light, lit only by the low glow of the ship lights slipping through the gap the door had left. Sebastien walked around near aimlessly on the deck, not apparently sure of what he was doing. He'd seen the Bastet moored outside, knew Commander Staite was somewhere on board, and that his job was to help her. He stubbed his toe on the dark floor and only narrowly avoided tripping flat on his face.
"Ack-" he muffled his pain. "Right then..." he spoke softly as if to avoid being heard, and pulled the standard torch out of his standard body armour pack, stubbornly, as was standard for him. Wandering on he saw an elevator cracked open. Drawing closer to it he froze, experiencing the same odour of some reeking death that Staite and her crew had suffered earlier. He put on his gas mask, and continued up to the elevators, preferring the temporarily powered lift as he disdainfully glanced at whatever might've caused such a smell.
He stepped in, and the doors twisted shut around him. "Let's see... where to..." he mumbled to himself. "Maintenance... Quarters... ooh.. Labs...". His voice modestly excited and his eyes brightened at the idea of seeing the Laboratories of Mora, as he read over the decks. "Upper Command Deck?" *He chuckles to himself* "Sounds like her..." And with that he activated the lift, the temporary power dragging it to its destination at a pace that didn't do justice to the true capability of the system.
After another 3 minutes, the lift seemed to stop, and Sebastien was jerked out of the lull by the idea of getting out. He pulled at the doors to open them, with seemingly no effect. "Right...". He strained himself, pulling at the doors with the strength he could muster, his face going red and his skin and suit taut as he grimaced at the door to open.
As if instantly and with a loud snap, the doors flew open as if without resistance at all. Startled, Staite and the others aboard the deck flung around on reflex, their guns drawn and pointed squarely at Sebastien.
"HmHmHm" *His short and muffled chuckle did little to ease the crew* "You alright Commander Staite?" *He beamed* "You look like you've seen one of those ghosts!"
Kaylee motioned at the command crew to stand down, and they holstered their sidearms one by one. She turned back to Sebastien with a somewhat embarassed look on her face, "Sorry, everyone here has been on edge lately with the security breach in ninety-two. Welcome to Mora Station, the stinking rear end of the Order." She motioned towards a console near the wall, "Make sure you sign in on the station database, or you dont get paid for your time on shift. Whenever you're ready, find something to clean or repair and get to work on it, this station is a mess and it's not getting any better on its own."
"Yes ma'am." He paused for a moment, contemplative: "I don't suppose you've got any spare docking bay doors lying around?" He grinned at the thought of his slight misfortune, and made his way over to the console.
He activated the interface and the screen flickered on. It was dusty to say the least. "Right then...", he spoke to himself quietly, as he navigated through the system and entered his name, callsign and user code. "This place really is out of date. We'll have to update the entire station's identification infrastructure."
Still working on the console as he talked, he was confident someone was listening. "We'll retrofit the new ID Card and Retina system that's been implemented..." he thought... "Well, everywhere else."
He had already entered his information on the console, but rather spent some time digging through the system for any records or maps that may have been of use. The laboratory file archives remained untouched, he didn't even want to have to think about what might need to be cleaned up in there yet.
"So Commander, I assume your team has been working on that reactor? How long until we've got power, do you think?"
He leaned himself on one of the consoles more towards the centre of the room, where no doubt some mundane flight traffic controller worked years ago.
"Not exactly sure what I should be working on, otherwise. Power's the first priority. And if you ask me, security the second." He sat down, a little bored, but more thinking about what the heck he could be doing, while he stared blankly at the consoles and desks beside him.
"Oh, that does make me think though. I wouldn't open up any new sections of the station without a Biohazard team with HAZMAT Class A suits, Commander."