Metal whined in protest as Blue Team's technicians rewired the door's keypad. Fortunately, despite the state of the hull panels around it, the exterior airlock had survived relatively unscathed. The keypad gave a sharp squawk in response to the intrusion, briefly flashing green before the heavy door jutted forward. Hydraulic pistons hummed, barely audible in the thin atmosphere bridging the two craft, pushing the exterior airlock out and sliding it further along the hull. As the exterior lock shifted, a small compartment behind it became visible. Barely large enough for four people, the compartment served to truly isolate the bridge from the void of space through the second interior lock embedded in the wall's far side. Thin it may have been, but the Destiny's atmosphere was sufficient to keep the small chamber pressurized. Within a few seconds, the technicians were through that door as well and the steel slid aside, revealing the Bison's interior.
The bridge bore an eerie similarity to a graveyard. Weak light flickered from some of the transport's displays, most displaying some variation on the same error message. Far more; however, were simply inactive, and the majority of the bridge remained shrouded in darkness. Solar shields were still in place, sealing the bridge's observation windows closed. The floor was some sort of cheap plastic, and it seemed to stick to the Marine's boots as they advanced into the room, sweeping torches across consoles, chairs, handles... A perfect crimson sphere hovered before the team, fluid surface rippling as it drifted slowly across the room like a miniature planet, dancing in the micro-gravity. Beyond that, the room was deadly silent.
Blue One grimaced. Him and his team maneuvered around the sphere.
"Run a bioscan. Anything with a heartbeat."
"Least that works around here."
With a smirk, Blue Three pulled his gear out, setting it up. The rest of Blue Team started to scrounge anything they could. Which wasn't much.
"Solomon, it's cleared for you."
_____________________________
Solomon returned from his space walk, and met up with his two marines before heading into the Bason with his two seconds. Meeting with Blue Team, he shook his head.
"Blue One, take Two and Three and head that way. Blue Four will come with me and these two and we'll check the other way."
Something shifted at the corner of the Marine known as Blue Two's vision. He turned, grasping at a console to maintain his balance in the low gravity. A woman was standing behind one of the consoles, near the door to what would have been the main compartment. Her naval uniform was crumpled and creased and stripes of what looked like blood flecked her arm. Droplets of the crimson fluid detached themselves from a wound on her hand as she raised it in greeting, the gesture coming to an abrupt halt as she took in the armor and weapons of her apparent 'rescuers.' The hand immediately dropped, and her mouth clamped shut.
Whatever would have been said was interrupted by the squawk of the Marine's radio.
There was no denying it. The figure slumped in the matte-gray chair was a soldier. Enlisted, judging by the rank insignia. No physical signs of damage, and the bio-scanner was still registering life signs. As far as the equipment could judge, the man was simply unconscious. A slightly faded name tag identified him as Serviceman Harry Taylor, assigned to the Clearwater, a naval supply ship. He was still secured to one of the crash seats, near where the craft's windows would have been, if the solar shields weren't still frozen in place. Probably a technical operator that had been too late to abandon ship. Or perhaps one that had decided to stay. Either way, it merited a call-in. The Marine tapped his radio.
"Blue Two, report." Came Solomon's Bretonian accent.
Blue Two hit his comm. "Blue Two here. Found a survivor. She's wounded. Going to attempt to get her to the infirmary without using a tranq."
Lowering the comm, the marine slung his rifle and motioned Blue One away. He stepped forward, hand outstretched.
"Ma'am, it's alright. I'm here to help. Please, come with me." He spoke calmly, hands away from his weapons. He was sure she'd see the Eye Of Horus emblem on his shoulder, but right now, he didn't care. "I promise we'll treat you better then the LSF would treat us. You have the word of my CO, Kira."
___________________________
Solomon bent over, checking the man's pulse.
"Got one...we'll bring the body at least, so...the family can have a proper funeral."
Blue Four and Smithers hefted the body as Solomon and Michelle pushed back towards the main area, heading to return to Blue Actual.
Arriving at their location, Solomon took in whatever the scene was.
[font=Palatino Linotype]It had just been a few days ago that Lieutenant Commander Remus Sius was released from Medical at Fort Bragg... His fellow officer and friend, Commander Clark had been waiting for him to recover.
[color=#FFFF33]"Dammit, Sius, you had us worried sick." "It did worked out fine didn't it?", he stayed silent for a moment, letting the clouded memories sink back in... *How long since I was out*
"After we brought you to Fort Bragg Medical Center, Jane wandered off into a storm.", as if answered by irony, clouds began to form above Fort Bragg.... reminding Clark of the day they last saw Remus.
"Any word on her since??" "Well....", the voice trailed off... clearly hinting some bad news. "Well what?", at this point... a circular glow began to appear on Remus' chest distracting Clark a bit. "Well..... Hey, Whats that glow on your chest??", Clark said, trying to avoid the question. "No no no no... I'm not falling for your tricks... Now where's Jane??" " *sighs* Jane was shot down near Planet Manhattan when she was flying the Clearwater... A report came in from a certain Ensign Jordan Browning that Jane and two others didn't managed to escape.", he stopped there knowing full-well that Remus didn't want to hear more...
Remus curled his hand into a fist, almost wanting to strike Clark but he remembered the promise that he had made. At this point, Doctor Gordon came rushing out of Fort Bragg Medical.
"Sir, I don't know what you are planning... but you are not yet cleared to fly." "I -have- to do this.... Where is my datapad?!?!", he grabbed Doctor Gordon by the shoulders. "Ca-ca-calm down, sir! I...I have it right here.", the datapad was pulled from beneath the coat of the doctor. "Remus, I hope you know what you're doing..." "I know fully well what I'm doing.", and with that he hailed for a jeep and took off to one of the launching pads. The rain had started to fall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[font=Palatino Linotype]At one of Fort Bragg's launching the pads, the MacArthur was preparing for launch... Several marines clad in fully-armored suits began to check their weapons. Remus himself was in a similar outfit.
[color=#FFFFFF]"Sir, I do hope you know what you are doing...", said one of the marines. "Barnes, do you have to repeat that every now and then??" "It's become of a habit now, sir." "Ho' kay... based on that Ensign's report... the transport went missing behind Planet Manhattan... so atleast we got a bearing. I'm trusting TIM's been fine and dandy during my absence?", the suit's were fully equipped with a highly advanced computer systems to view incoming updates and situational reports.
"Yes sir... the AI... I mean... TIM has not been causing any mishaps..." "Right then... tell the men to saddle up. We're going in five... I trust the engineer have installed the protective paneling?" "Yes sir, we've ensured everything is safe after your incident." "Lets move."
Remus, Barnes, and the marines began to enter the Gunboat and docking crew were preparing to leave the launch pad. As the engines of the Gunboat begin to engage, a load roar erupted at the launch pad.
"This is Fort Bragg Air Traffic Control Center to LNS-MacArthur, you are cleared for launch."
It was raining still when the Gunboat flew off the launch pad... it pierced the darkening clouds of Planet Manhattan and small ray of light shone through for a few seconds before being swallowed by grey clouds.
The woman tensed as the Marine's hand touched the rifle, her hands balling into fists. It wasn't until he began to speak that she unclenched them, hands dropping to her side, if not quite relaxing. She blinked a few times, struggling to adjust to the harsh electric light now flooding the bridge, courtesy of Soloman's power up-link. Shoulders that had been hunched when the Marine entered slid back as the woman straightened up, attempting to maintain some dignity, even aboard a ship that was little more then scrap.
"Your C.O's word doesn't count for much seeing as you're the one with the rifle. What's your name Marine?" There was no way she should have been able to piece together his role as a Marine. Plenty of smaller ships just armed sailors. It had to be coincidence, or habit. She coughed. Her voice was dry beyond what the comment merited, it sounded as though she hadn't drunk in days. With the condition of the ship, the situation was all too likely. "Don't look like I've got a lot of choice here either way. Have you found anyone else?"
Soloman doubled back through the corridor, ducking under buckled panels. There was something odd about the remains. Energy weapons didn't usually cause such extensive structural damage, it was far more efficient to punch holes in a warship and let the vacuum do the hard work. Another question, and the wreck offered no answers. The Order Agent strode on deck, emerging behind Blue Two.
"He's Blue Two. I am Solomon." Solomon cut in front of Blue Two' arms crossed. "AI'll ask what happened after we get onto the ship." Solomon frowned slightly, then clicked his Comm.
"To the idiot who went EVA l, we have the sole survivor."
Answering Hartman's quiestion, he put forth onr of his own.
"Jane Hartman I presume?"
Onboard the Destiny's Embrace, Rika was relieving stress by baking cookies.
Only Rika would bake cookies in such a situation.
Only her.
[font=Palatino Linotype]Days passed with them circling the whole field. Even with the help the ship's AI "TIM", Remus couldn't find the missing ship inside the Jersey Debris field.
[color=#333333]"Barnes, any word on the transport??", said Remus, he was still searching for anything that might help them track the transport's location. Eye bags began to form under his eyes, he hadn't slept yet.
"Nothing to report... Remu- I mean sir. We've been searching for some days now with no other clues but that Ensign's report.", replied one of the personnel manning the navigational systems. Normally "TIM" would have picked up a distress beacon, comm transmissions, or any other type of signal emitted by a ship in trouble.
*There must be something wrong*, thought Remus. He could think of the many scenarios that might have happened to the Clearwater but something in him said otherwise.
At this point, the ship grounded to a halt... neither Remus or any other bridge operators were notified of the sudden stop. An electronic voice began to speak, <<<Lifeforms detected... Distance: 5 clicks due North>>>
"Finally! Any resemblance of the Bison??", exclaimed Remus. <<<ERROR... Unable to scan vessel... Reflective armor detected>>>
Even if the range of the device was short, the TMR was powerful enough to scan and pierce through man-made paneling, it had been designed to only scan for lifeforms. The core holding the delicate device was surrounded by a combination of crystal and metal plating, that had been made up of melted-down K'hara artifacts. After the incident that happened to Remus, the scientists at Willard found a way to deter the unknown radiation emitted by the device and focus it on an antennae at the top of the Gunboat. But the TMR was unable to give identity to the ship.
Aboard the Clearwater, the hulk's occupants continued their conversation, heedless of the approaching gunboat.
"I'm Lieutenant Commander Hartman." She acknowledged, turning to face the new agent, Soloman. Light from the Marine's torch flashed across her face as she did, illuminating a scar stretching across the bridge of her nose. He knew her name. As her exhaustion-addled brain struggled with this latest piece of information, the rest of the man's words finally hit home. We have the sole survivor. The woman paused, watching the airlock behind Soloman with an air of silent detachment that was somewhat unnerving. "You're saying no-one else made it?" It had to be a mistake. The ship had had pods, she'd given the abandon ship order minutes before Clearwater went up.
Solomon rubbed his brow. "Sole other survivor. We have one man and he's already off to medical. Let's go Lieutenant Commander."
Solomon stepped back to give her room. He had imparted some knowledge to her - the knowledge the Order was watching and was up to date on current events.
"Once you're checked over, we'll transfer you over to that very annoying LABC."
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