"Remember the Orlando's greeting party? When they fled, I picked up one of their sidearms and panic-fired a couple of shots at the Goose. I didn't hit it, it was more so to scare it away."
Failing to mention that he was screaming at the top of his lungs when this event happened, Scotty didn't want to appear like a little wuss in front of Seabourne. A long while ago, Scotty decided to keep that, and the fact he broke the main viewer, all to himself.
"Perhaps there's something close by that could startle it enough to get out of our way."
Rooms 309 to 311 were positioned between the two men and the Goose. Scotty sees the door to 311 was slightly cracked open, and forces it to one side. To both of their surprise, the room was full of plates laden with cake, streamers across the walls and an assortment of glitter between the fibers of the carpet. A curved sign with the words "Happy Birthday Bethany" was hung up on the back wall.
"This... is not what I was expecting, lad. Orbital doesn't pull their punches with crew parties, aye?"
Remembering his time with the Goose, loud bangs did get the Goose to retreat. Scotty rummages through the storage compartments to find something that could have the same effect. With draws pulled out and cabinets wide open, Scotty returns to Seabourne with two handfuls of party poppers. Scotty chuckles and hands one bunch to Seabourne..
"Aim them at the Goose, and pop them on the count of three, lad?"
Starfliers...//...Information...//...Recruitment...//...Discord Server Independent Cartographers, Vector Analysts & Researchers.
Godspeed, Pilots.
Seabourne grabbed the popper but dashed into the room. Ten seconds of rummaging later, he re-emerged wearing a bright red party hat and offered a matching green one to Scotty.
"If we do this, we do it properly."
Seabourne handed over the hat and took the pillowcase off of Scotty's belt. Having long since lost most of its hardware in the ensuing racing through the ship, it hung limply with only a faint jingle of a pair of tenacious bolts in a corner. Seabourne looked around for a few seconds before dipping a finger in some of the goose viscera on the floor that was on the redder end of the spectrum and, more importantly, not smoldering its way through the deck plates. He traced out the words "Happy B-Day Bethany from Scotty and Seabourne!" on the case and flung it into the cabin. He nodded to himself and took up position near Scotty. He pulled out a party horn from his tunic.
"Don't worry, Mr Scotty, this kazoo's from my personal stash."
Seabourne chomped down on the party horn, legs braced, and ready to pull the string on the popper.
Donning the green party hat Seabourne offered, standing next to his red-party-hat-wearing twin, both men take up position near the Goose. They share a look with eachother, and Scotty nods, with Seabourne just staring at him. Hoping Seabourne would nod aswell, Scotty rolls his eyes and looks back at the Goose.
"On three then, lad."
Both men stand firm, poppers in hand, all strings tied together to be fired in unison.
"One..."
Upon hearing the first number, the feathered fiend looks at the two men as if it knew what was about to happen.
"Two..."
The Goose, shifting it's gaze to Seabourne. Somewhat confused, but strong in it's focus on the two men.
"Three!" & "Three!"
Both men yell out the last count and pull the strings. One loud "BANG" fills the area as streamers and glitter shower over and around the Goose. Seabourne gets taken aback a little, and Scotty hums while plugging one of his ears. Thinking they had succeeded with their strange plan, they waited for some sort of response from the Goose. For a few seconds after the pop, everything was silent. Once the streamers and glitter fell to the floor, and the men had eyes on the Goose, they could tell something was about to happen. Eyes closed from the confetti, slowly getting up, it managed to stay standing with great effort. Then, the goose' eyes shot open and screamed as loud as it could, dribbling god knows what all over the floor. Once the roar was near it's end, it lowered it's head and raised it's rear, ready to charge at the two men. Scotty and Seabourne look at the Goose, then at eachother that would say "What now?" The Goose started running on the spot, until it's webbed feet caught traction with the dirty floor and shot forward towards the men. This animal was having none of it. Hell bent on dishing out it's revenge, the Goose closes in on the two party-hat wearing men very quickly.
"Holy hell! I've had enough of this beast. Run to the pod!"
Scotty sprints for the escape pod.
Starfliers...//...Information...//...Recruitment...//...Discord Server Independent Cartographers, Vector Analysts & Researchers.
Godspeed, Pilots.
Seabourne had never run for an Orbital life pod before. He had been thrown unconscious into one for his only prior experience with the things. Of course, he had never run for his life from a wild creature, let alone one whose physical composure was best described as non-Newtonian, bordering on non-Euclidean. Seabourne doubted his ability to outrun the beast in front of him. Given Scotty's headstart, he also doubted his ability to outrun his partner. That left one option. The captain squared up his stance, took off the party hat, and blew defiantly.
"TOOOOOOOOOT!"
The party horn shot out its tongue-like protrusion. Deep inside the goose's brain, some primal evolutionary safeguard against Gaia's snake-like creatures triggered.
It snapped momentarily out of its charge. The head reared back and the beak closed for a second while the rest of the brain figured out which side of the fight or flight equation this encounter now landed on. A second was all Seabourne needed. His human brain worked in mysterious ways, but it worked damned quick when it had to.
The captain shoved the conical hat firmly over the bill of the goose. He winced as his injured wrist slipped the elastic band around the rooster like crest on top. He slid his hand out of the way as the band pulled tight around the head of the bird. The creature hissed and spat, but the ejected substance was caught by the cone at least for the time being. The cardboard smoldered as the bird thrashed about blindly, shooting more of the caustic spittle into its own face with each lunge.
Seabourne knew the hat would only hold for so long, but while he was doubtful about outrunning the goose in a fair race, he was confident he could outpace one that was blinded and gagged. He took off down the hallway after Scotty, breathing in through his nose and out through the kazoo still in his mouth.
It didn't take long before Scotty had to lean against the wall for some air. He's not the running kind of guy, more like the sit-on-his-ass and work on the NX-01 kind. After a few deep breaths, the sound of tooting grew louder and louder. There's no mistaking it, as Seabourne raced around the corner and flew past Scotty. For an Orbital Captain, he's pretty fit to keep going after this distance.
"Wait for me, Seabourne!"
Wincing in pain, with now a newly formed stitch in his side, Scotty pushes through his exhaustion to try catch up to Seabourne. The scape pod was close by at this point, but even this short of distance was a long way for Scotty to run. Deck One was where the pods were at, and being on the deck below the goose at this point, all he had to do was go down the luxurious staircase once more and head down one of the corridors. Turning the corner, Scotty places himself on the wall again. This time, dragging himself across it as he sloppily walks towards the pod. With the exit and Seabourne in sight and in between long gasps of air, Scotty yells out,
Seabourne screeched to a halt, snapping his feet together and sliding on his heels. It looked like something out of an old cartoon. Every experience with the real world screamed that that sort of thing never actually happens, like slipping on a banana peel or wandering off a cliff and not beginning to fall until you actually look down. Seabourne's grip on reality was tenuous at best. Sometimes, it looked like reality's grip on him was also less than fully secure.
"I leave no man behind!"
He helped Scotty to his feet as a gargle/hiss/roar echoed down the hall.
"Avians are much more negotiable though, come on! The pod should be right... here!"
The entrance to the pods were clearly marked, unlike the crew access corridors. The evacuation deck doubled as a promenade/overlook for the commercial deck. There was a clear line where Orbital's lights, advertisements, holosculptures, and other assaults on the senses suddenly gave way to utilitarian green arrows with universal escape iconography. Orbital knew better than to obscure an escape route. Well, it NOW knew better. Experience may be the teacher of fools, but lawsuits were the teachers of corporations.
All of the pods were currently missing, which was standard protocol for a ship in dry dock undergoing a long term re-fit. The explosive bolts on the pods would only fire them directly into the scaffolding. Since Orlando was now well into the ice fields, the probability of firing a pod directly into an obstacle was significantly reduced. One pod was still attached, marked off with caution tape.
"That's our huckleberry!"
The two men hobbled over to the door and tore down the tape. The faint splat-splat-splat of webbed feet on fluid soaked floors was getting louder but not in a linear fashion. The goose was making its way to its targets via a blind Brownian motion, it seemed. They had time, but not a lot of it. Seabourne opened the door.
"Ooooooooh, this ain't orbital standard issue."
An Orbital life pod nominally sat 10 people who were willing to get very cozy with each other. Given that the alternative was a fiery death if you're lucky or slow suffocation if you're not, it usually wasn't hard to get people on board with the idea, literally and figuratively. The mandated lifeboat drills had been a hassle for passengers until Seabourne had made it into an event on the Breezewood. It was the first one on the passengers' itineraries, a nice bookend for the singing of "Auld Lang Syne" at the end. "Be nice to your podmates," he had always said during the drills, "otherwise they might leave without you!"
Seaboune stepped into the pod, a tight squeeze as the modifications only left room for one person.
"Only one seat? And a bed? The transponder's been removed! The supplies are all still there, but it's still for ten people for three days. Why would one man need 30 days worth of supplies?
Seabourne seemed to have a blind spot for the assembled electronics jammed into every corner along with the giant steel and glass column in the middle of the pod where seats 4-8 should have been. Blue-green swirls made their way around its core beneath its frosted glass as the machinery hummed. A faint smell of ozone said the device had been active, though in standby, for a while. Instead of messing with switches or displays, Seabourne picked up a three ring binder left on the bed and leafed to the table of contents as he stepped back onto Orlando's evacuation deck.
Scotty never had to run so far and fast in his life. Having his body pulled and placed next to the escape pod entrance, he had a prime view of inside the escape pod. Though, his vision wasn't the best, as it was pulsing and blurry. Something that happens to a slightly overweight engineer when he runs for his life. One big detail that Scotty did not notice however was that the two levers to eject the pod were engaged, something that could prematurely, and without warning, send the pod out into space. An unfocused look at the pod, noticing an all white bed and chair, and hearing Seabourne talk about a child's game,
"Hide and seek? We have to go now, lad. Enough games."
The pod's entrance was open and Seabourne was busy flipping through pages of the binder. Scotty took it upon himself to crawl into the pod and situate himself on the chair. The control panels for the pod were located between him and the pod's door. One look, and Scotty knew what was going on. The standard issue escape pods were the same across all ships of the same class. Fortunately, his familiarity came from the NX-01. Pressing a handful of buttons, he finds that the pod's ejection power circuits were reversed, something that happens when you're installing a new pod after the space has been vacated. Little did he know that fixing this power problem would re-engage the ejection sequence.
"I'll rest here, and try to fix this damn pod. Keep a lookout for that Goose, aye?"
The panel comes off with ease and the area inside the control box was a mess. Scotty gets to work on repairing the unit.
Starfliers...//...Information...//...Recruitment...//...Discord Server Independent Cartographers, Vector Analysts & Researchers.
Godspeed, Pilots.
Seabourne flipped through the binder, unimpressed with the font selection. It was all sans serif, and not even a fun sans serif like comic sans. He considered opening up the digital file to insert some well placed wingdings and some jokerman when a word caught his eye.
"Scotty, is an intrasystem jump drive what I think it is?"
Jumping from system to system requires a tremendous amount of energy, like the amount supplied by a capital ship engine. Making time and space do things that would turn even Seabourne's stomach within a single star system requires significantly less. Say, 90% of the power output of a luxury liner. Seabourne looked up to the tube. The glowy bits were glowing faster.
"What kind of idiot proposed hide and seek with a blindly jumping escape pod?"
He flipped to the section containing the minutes of an Orbital board meeting where it had been first proposed.
"Huh. That was pre-accident even. Wonder what I was thinking."
A slow, menacing SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT drew Seabourne's attention from the binder. Miraculously, the goose was still alive. Even more miraculously, the cardboard core of the party hat was still holding though the red foil on the outside had long since disintegrated through the color spectrum to an ominous shade of black. The goose let out its gargle/hiss/roar again, though the gargle factor was significantly higher than before.
Seabourne considered the situation. Scotty was in no shape to run, but it was in a perfect place to hide. Seabourne would just have to close the pod's access door and then get another starship hull between him and the goose. Such as the doors of PuddleJumper, still docked on the port side.
"Scotty, hold tight, I have something dangerously close to a plan buzzing around the ol' brain box."
Before Scotty could react, Seabourne slammed his hand on the door panel, shutting the door to the pod. Had he been a more observant man, or at least a more sane one not staring down a homicidal goose, he might have noticed that both the pod and the ship's doors closed when he had only pressed the button to seal the pod's. Instead, he turned to his foe, whose outstretched wings were now blocking the fastest route back to PuddleJumper.
"Alright bird-o. I doubt either of us saw things going this way today, but-"
The bird made some unnaturally moist choking sounds and keeled over, its throat visibly swollen with what Seabourne presumed was its own secretions. He thanked the goddess for the bit of good fortune.
He heard the unmistakable sound of explosive bolts firing behind him.
He remembered that his is not a benevolent goddess.
"Scotty, is an intrasystem jump drive what I think it is?"
"Didn't think Orbital would be interested in that kind of tech, lad."
A large spark springs out from the unit Scotty is working on. He ripped out one of the cables, and placed it on the floor.
"They're typically on the smaller side because they use less power, lad. Though they're dependant on a secondary vessel providing it with Rift-Jumping data, usually over wireless transmissions. If it doesn't have that, I imagine the drive randomly relocates itself a few hundred meters away when used. They aren't that powerful."
Scotty pulls one end out of the other cable and prepares to attach it in the correct spot.
"Why, lad? Is that what this thing is?"
Scotty nods upwards at the direction of the gigantic whirring device he's sitting next to. With one power conduit remaining, he gets to work installing the last circuit. After a moment or two, Scotty prepares to attach the last end of the cable to it's port.
"Scotty, hold tight, I have something dangerously close to a plan buzzing around the ol' brain box."
The door gets shut. Seabourne is seen looking intently off to the side. Thinking that the goose finally caught up to them, Scotty fumbles to get the last cable into it's position. Once positioned, he rotates the cable to lock it into place. The escape pod fires up and startles Scotty. He didn't engage the sequence and wondered what could have set it off. Any thoughts Scotty had about who, what, when, how and why didn't matter. As the bolts shifted into position inside the door and the escape pod's announcer starts counting down. An emergency bypass button starts to flash, for those who are in need to go as soon as possible, however to Scotty, it looked like Seabourne had other ideas. No matter what Scotty said or did, it didn't look like Seabourne could hear him. The thickness of the pod itself was part of it's safety rating, but the downside is that it prevents those outside from hearing anyone inside them. Putting each arm through the seat belts, Scotty secures himself in his chair and watches as Seabourne moves out of frame. The door's window was magnified, mainly used to look at starships from far away when in use. Since the distance here was a few meters, taking one step would make you disappear. Closing his eyes, and praying to live through this, Scotty hears the release of the clamps and the hissing of pistons. Accepting the fact this is happening, and there's no way for Seabourne to join him, the bypass button is hit with a fist and the pod is launched into the Ice Fields of the Cortez System. A few seconds later, lights start to brighten as the intra-system jump drive powers up. The view of the Orlando and Puddle Jumper slowly shrinks until the flash of light changes the scene to ice crystals.
"Godspeed, Seabourne. You crazy bastard..."
Now in a comfy chair, held in place by safety belts, our exhausted Starflier falls asleep...
Starfliers...//...Information...//...Recruitment...//...Discord Server Independent Cartographers, Vector Analysts & Researchers.
Godspeed, Pilots.
![[Image: PVArGCT.png]](https://i.imgur.com/PVArGCT.png)