Bounding towards Hell

[LePew]

“We are coming up to Edinburgh, Capt’n.”

“Get the systems to guide us through the hole. Once through set course for Tau-31. We need to swing by there for a quick refuel before returning to Gallic space.”

The messenger nodded and went back to his station, calling out the new set of orders. The man he spoke to was Capitane Pierre ‘Bastard’ LePew, who slouched in his command chair. His glorious crew sat around ready for anything, but spoke casually and even joked. LePew didn't like keeping things strict at all times on the bridge. Caused too much tension and gave him a headache.

A notice appeared on his monitor, mentioning how they were entering the jumphole’s gravity well and would be in Edinburgh soon. Seeing as they were safely out of harms way, he decided to get up and stretch. He motioned for his first mate to keep control of the bridge while he went for a walk. As he walked out of the bridge, they began their jump.

LePew wandered down the hall, aimless and bored. He passes a few of his crew and held little conversations to pass the time. He left the men with a quick joke, which they laughed at full heartedly, and moved on down the metal veins that snake through the ship till he reached the lounge. He was hoping he would be able to talk to someone of interest to pass the time.

As he walked in, the intercom opened up.

“We have entered Edinburgh safely and are now enroute to Tau-31. Status green.”

With a grin, he looked around the lounge. Those off duty spent most of their time here, drinking and watching whatever they wanted. LePew made sure the area was outfitted with anything to keep things entertaining. There was everything from pool tables to net connectors, visual projectors and tables for whatever his crew could use them for. An open doorway on the back wall led to a small bar, which was his current destination. A few quick strides across the lounge brought him inside, where it was much quieter. He saw a few of his crew having a good old time on one side of the bar, mentioning how they would bang each other’s wives for 2 more drinks, or something of the sort. The other side of the bar housed a far quieter person who simply relaxed and enjoyed the ride. LePew pulled up a stool next to the person and knocked for a drink to be brought.

He waited until he got his drink before speaking. Once in hand, he spoke warmly.

“Enjoying the dull life on a large ship, Kastille?”

---

[Silver]

Silver whisked her hair to the side with a flick of her neck. The bright red orange hair flew past LePew's eyes and then behind that wave of color, those two grey, intense eyes staring at him.

"I hate bein' in caps, Pierre. A bloody huge arsed coffin'."

She replied, sipping her drink. While she hated to fly in capital ships, Silver was a regular aboard LePew's cruiser. Raging from discussing tactics, to contact the Royal Navy, almost everything that involved Gallia and the Reavers, it went through LePew's cruiser.

"Hmm, even so, thanks for the lift. It would be stupidly boring to fly all the way to New Paris alone or in a frickin' passenger transport, just to get to another meetin' with the King's office.
And those bloody parties they keep inviting me to."

Her fingers, unconsciously, twirled her wedding ring once. And her nose twitched.
LePew stiffened. After all, her nose was already something of a small legend in Sirius. Whenever it twitched, trouble was nearby.

---

[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop

[LePew]

LePew frowned. He understood her odd habits of knowing when things would go south. It saved him multiple times when he worked in Liberty or Bretonia. He looked towards the bartender and signaled for another drink.

“I don’t like it when you do that.”

LePew siped his drink in thought for a second.

“Last time you did that, I almost died.”

---

[Silver]

Her smirk was a tell tale of the quantity of fun that 'last time' LePew mentioned.

"My nose twitches. People die. T'is a fact. Now i suggest we keep our eyes peeled."

She grabbed her glass and got off from the stool, looking at LePew.

"Now, i'll be goin' to my room, and check my gear.. 'Cause this nose never failed. You better prep your people.
After all..
Luck favors the bold.
Death favors no one."

With a jestful wink, she gulped the remaining contents of the glass and then squeezed LePew's shoulder, before heading out of the small bar. And still, she kept twirling the ring in her finger while she walked away.

---

[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop

[LePew]

LePew looked deeply at his glass while he processed the warning he just got. Trouble never means it's for one person over another, it might be them doing the killing. Though most of the time, it was aimed at him.

He downed his drink and got up. He needed to take a walk.

-------------------

A few hours later, LePew left his aimless wandering to go back to the bridge. He had forgotten about the little hint of danger she told him by the time he was back in his seat.

They entered Tau-31 through the jumphole in Edinburgh. Warning signals came up, notifying the crew of a major patrol from Harris that was headed their way and would cut them off from the lanes to Holman. Deciding not to risk it, the Mors Vache went away from the lanes and to the back side of Harris, planning to go directly to Tau-23.

Sighing, LePew slumped in his chair again while looking at reports. He still received public orders from the Crown even though his assignment was to the Reavers. Most of command wanted every ship on the front line in Leeds, which LePew frowned at. Gallia’s fleet was avoiding any reason to fly through the Taus, leaving them packed with pirates, revolutionists and independent groups that festered in and around the area. It was poor planning, but not his place to mention the flaw. He didn’t really care as well.

On one of his monitors, a reading flashed up. A lone ship was stranded and seemingly dead. The front of the ship was wedged into one of the ice pits as if it drifted into it. LePew asked for a scan of the ship quickly, and was told there was little to no life on board. Life support was still on, but the ship seemed dead.

The ship itself was large, a tad smaller than a Liberty Dreadnought. A quick search brought up a match for an early Osiris build, though heavily modified. The turrets matched Maltese weaponry while the outside plating was some mysterious metal that gave the ship a hardened look. Whoever owned the ship did not use it for its original purpose.

The Mors Vache did a final scan to make sure the ship was offline, then moved next to it to get a proper reading. Up close, the ship was heavily damaged. Portions of the ship were missing, massive holes opened up sections of the interior to the hostile void. Oddly enough, the holes were patched from the inside. The craters were left in the ship and the old interior was abandoned and boarded up with heavy, unknown metals.

LePew continued to look at the ship while his crew ran multiple scans on the unknown ship. Results showed how only vital components of the ship were still functional. All secondary areas such as offices, kitchens, and hallways were unused. Everything else had life support.

Understanding came to LePew as he looked over the scans again. The ship was literally made for war when it was repurposed. Whoever ran the ship used the unneeded sections of the ship as a buffer when being attacked. The truly important parts of the ship was covered in thick hull plating.

The ship was a goldmine. The crew began to quickly discuss what to do with it. Mark it and come back to it later? Call the Navy to deal with the remains?

Both wouldn’t work. The entire crew, LePew included, was interested in this ship. LePew also wanted it for himself. He switched on the mic to the intercom system.

“Seems we have found a valuable wreck, so we are going to be on standby for a bit. I want all crew on alert, and those active to ready the tractor beams and salvaging equipment.”

LePew grinned, but suddenly remembered what Silver had said. He suddenly had a dreadful feeling something would go wrong, but he pushed it aside. He had a ship to loot.

---

[LePew]

The ships onboard tractor beams and salvaging arms were already at work picking apart loose bits of metal or other dangerous materials that floated around the ship. At one point, an entire section of the ship broke off and floated away. There was no use to fetch it, as it was completely scrap at that point. As it was noticed before, most of the ship was used simply as a metal buffer. No harm came from incoming fire hitting the dead regions of the ship. Nothing would be affected.

What was found quickly enough was a network of working hallways and rooms that contained life support. The actual reading was blurred and hazy, due to the interior being as much of a mess as the inside. One could still make out how the hallways led from the bridge to the core components, a few service sections for weapon systems and power routing, and to the small hangar-mooring point. This proved that the ship was indeed still flyable, given the systems wasn’t completely shot.
With this in mind, LePew grinned and walked out of the bridge. It was much easier to fly a ship than tow it, and that was exactly what he planned to do.

He got a team of 50 or so people together, including engineers, standard crew, and a few onboard security detail. They brought along a large case of equipment to hardwire the ship if the ship didn’t accept their flight codes. Along with other smaller equipment to deal with leaks and oxygen poor areas, most geared up for the off chance someone was inside. Some equipped holstered pistols while the security carried short barreled boarding cannons, as they do little damage to the surrounding walls. LePew armed himself with a standard issue captain's laser pistol and an old hunting rifle, which he carried on his back.

As they were loading up in the boarding shuttle, Silver walked into the hangar, ready to go in. LePew glanced and shook his head. There was no stopping her from doing as she pleased, and as a guest on his ship, he would allow her to risk her own life. He doubted anything would happen, but he was a bit glad to have a sure shot near him.

The boarding party split into two shuttles, around 25 crew in each. The boarding shuttles were designed for a quick thrust at a ship, then ramming and sealing a pathway into the interior. Two rows of seats lined the sides, each seat with a harness to keep the passengers safe from the boarding process.

LePew took his seat, sighed and waited. After about 5 mins, a red light flashed on. The crew inside pulled down the harness over their chests, then strapped in. The pilot walked up and down checking each person, then with a nod towards LePew, walked into the small cockpit where he strapped himself in. The red light flashed 4 times, then turned blue.

The docking locks disengaged and the ship drifted away from the Mors Veau. Once free of the ship, the two shuttles began to charge their short range cruise engines. The blue light began to flash, and on the tenth flash, turned red once again while all interior lights were shut off. The engines blared behind, and propelled the shuttles towards the wrecked ship. Even though they were in space, the shaking from the shuttle’s engines caused the ride to be extremely uncomfortable. The pilot triggered a count down on a clock above the door to the cockpit. It started from 30 and counted down. LePew understood it was meant to show when impact would happen, but he informed the pilot to set the clock back a few seconds, so they would impact before the countdown finished. It was a good way to break nerves after impact.

Right when the clock hit five, the ship lurched upwards, then shook violently as impact tore through the hull of the wreckage. Seconds later, the shaking stopped. As the crew recollected their heads, hissing and loud pops echoed through the front of the ship near the ramming equipment. The ship was sealing itself into the hole it made using concrete foam, along with opening the latches to keep the shuttle in place.

The crew unlocked themselves from their seats and grabbed their gear. The countdown clock was running again, from 60 this time. LePew found his helmet for his suit and slotted it over his head, locking it into place with a slight turn and a few automated locks. As the timer went down, the crew stared at the door. The hissing of the sealant could still be heard, and large boarding locks pushed into the ship, then back into the inside to keep a firm grip. Right as the counter hit zero, the latch on the main door unlocked and the air pressure changed.

The first images inside the wreckage were horrid. The area they breached was one of the main hallways halfway between the engines and the bridge. It was about ten meters wide and five meters tall. Interior lights were dim, which led to a few people to turn on their torches. What could be seen from inside the shuttle was half broken walls, metal supports falling from the ceiling, and random bits of litter. The worst part was the red/black colour, which LePew noted was distinctly blood. There wasn’t much, but it was everywhere, as if some major fight happened inside. Perhaps they weren’t the first to board the ship. LePew hoped they weren’t over their heads.

Stepping inside the hallway, more of the same from their original view was displayed. More wreckage, spots of the ship falling apart, blood. Something wasn’t right. LePew’s crew stood awkwardly at the situation, not sure what to do.

LePew shook his head.

“Alright, we will split up into two teams. I’ll take half and head for the bridge. The other half will be Kastille’s to check the engines and life support. If those are blown, we have no use staying here.”

He looked at everyone around, and most were a bit skittish of the place. He understood, but they had a job to do.

---

[Virus]

An alarm sounded on the bridge, the spinning glow of the orange warning light the only illumination in the dusty room.

The figure lowly stirred to life, his silent slumber interrupted by the wailing klaxon. The months the ship drifted through space left darkness in his mind. Where once was clarity of purpose, now confusion and static. One more test of his will.

Someone was close, already on board. Slow moving fingers swept over a console silencing the alarm and inputting new commands into the ship's computer systems. Defense drones creaked to life in the deep interior of the ship as other automated defenses activated in the occupied sections of the ship. These machines existed for a singular purpose: evict or annihilate the interlopers, protect the sanctuary of the ship.

Pushing the fog of sleep from his mind he straightened himself upright in his command chair. The lights on his armor blinking to life as the helmet rendered the view of the bridge to his once biological eyes. A light blinked on a nearby console standing starkly in the poorly lit room. He leaned closer, carefully wiping the grit from the display with a gauntleted hand before activating the console.

For the first time what could have been years a long, distorted laugh was coaxed forth and ran its course through his throat echoing across the empty room.

Mors Vache.
Cruiser-class. Gallic design.

The unmistakeable outline of another vessel come to claim the spoils of a dead ship. The Death Cow. Its name a testament the illusion of invincibility held by children. Wishful thinking.

With a single push of a button the Hellbound woke from it's slumber, the powerful turrets lining the hull of the ship springing to life to unleash their fury on the unsuspecting ship. Cleansing them from the mortal plane with hellfire.

---

Into the Maelstrom - A Measure of Salvation - Reaver Company Database

[LePew]

A wail of sirens echoed through the ship suddenly, breaking the awkward silence that held the boarding crew in a nervous state. Their origin was unknown, as the echoing bounced everywhere, even through the walls.

As quickly as the siren’s moan came lurking into existence, it faded out. Not knowing what to make of it, the crew glanced around and even looked at each other to confirm they heard what they did. That’s when the metal around them began to shake violently. The distinct feel of ozone washed over the crew. LePew was about to call for everyone to retreat back to the boarding shuttles when the ship lurched sideways, causing cracks in the walls to appear and scrap to fall from the ceiling. Someone pointed towards a viewport, which was quickly had everyone looking through.

Beams of energy was ripping the Mors Vache apart. The beams were an ugly colour of poor energy release. The result was the same as any other weapon versus another ship. The Mors Vache was being torn apart.

Looking down the hull of the ship they were in, a weapon platform towards the front overloaded and exploded. It never took a hit, poor repair must of taken a hit on the stability of the turret and made it leak enough energy to completely melt down. The onslaught didn’t halt.
The Mors Vache never had time to react. It was not ready for an attack like this. Right as it’s shields raised, a hit blew one of the main generators and it dropped and backlashed back into the ship. The collapsing shields tore through the ship. The first thing to go was the engines, which quickly flashed blue as energy leaked out then rushed into the ship and outwards into space. The interior became the exterior as the ship ripped apart.

Even though it’s target was dead, the beams and turrets continued to rail on the hull. LePew ushered his crew down a hallway he spotted. He has a feeling the turrets were supposed to turn off by now, and something was causing them not to.

His instinct was right. As they passed the archway, automated doors closed and locked right as the sounds of explosions and the reek of ozone was everywhere. Other weapons melted down from over use. The dim lights in the corridor the small group was in flickered as the energy from the weapons went through the ship.

After a moment, everything was calm. LePew checked his comm system to the Mors Vache, but found it dead. Someone on this ship just blew up his pride, and he wasn’t about to let them get away with it.

“Silver. Generators and engines. I got the bridge.”

LePew’s face was a mask of anger. He unslung the old rifle from his back, smacked in a round and began walking towards the bridge.

---

[Silver]

Removing a small stain from her helmet visor with her fingertip, Silver nodded at LePew and checked if her laser auto-repeater was in condition.

"Don't get killed, LePew. Sirius isn't done with ya yet."

She said, and then signaled her group to move out. Not even two minutes later, one of the men tripped what seemed a small motion detector, and a wall mounted turret started to discharge unforgiving fire in a rate that only machines can.
Precise. Never failing. Without flaw or fault.

"Shiz."

She said, opening up a comm to LePew and giving room to her people in the corridor.

"Dunno 'bout you, love, but seems the place is rigged. Keep yer eyes peeled to the walls, floor and ceiling.
We just met an automated turret."

Silver then tapped the shoulder of one of the men, signaling him to make a sprint to the nearest wall, throwing the automated turret sight out of their position.

The man gulped, but did has she asked. A fast sprint, lasers shots following his footsteps until he dived behind a broken piece of wall.

She didn't wasted time, and with a dexterous move, removed a small round chip. To some, it was a poker chip. To others, the big Reaver like "R" called all attention.

But for Silver, as she threw it in the direction of the turret, what called her attention was the five second countdown in her mind.

The chip magnetically clamped on the turret, that now focused on where Silver was moments before and then the ship section shook as it exploded, leaving a hole, wide open to adjacent empty rooms and electric wiring.

While all the men in her group were surprised by the blast, Silver slowly opened a comm again to LePew.

"Dealt with. We're movin'."

---

[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop

[LePew]

A hail of laser fire flew over LePew’s head. He was ducking behind a place where the wall fell into the hallway. That’s when Silver’s warning came through.

LePew rolled his eyes and opened the comm.

“Yeah, someone triggered them in this area.”

An engineer further up ahead blew the turret apart with a close ranged boarding cannon round. Unfortunately shrapnel flew towards him and ripped him apart as well the man behind him.

“We’re moving forward.”

LePew closed the comm and looked down the hallway. Luckily, there wasn’t anything else blocking their path. He motioned for them to continue on. When passing the turret, he saw how rusted it was. The cannon blast as overkill. They could have thrown a rock at it and had the same effect.

Nerves were on end as they made their way towards the bridge. Nothing else ambushed them, but they spotted other auto turrets which were completely rusted over or had no power. After turning a corner, they came to an elevator which was of no use. Next to it was a staircase. His group moaned but started walking to the top.

After about twenty flights, one of the doors showed it was the route to the bridge. They got off and caught their breath. LePew looked around and saw the hallway leading to the actual bridge. The doorway was oddly large for a the main entrance, large enough to allow three people to go through without touching. He pointed and walked towards it. Doing so triggered a siren to go off, and loud clanking echoed down the hallway opposite of where the bridge archway was.

The noise was from automated death droids. The metal and plating was ripped and falling off, rust covered them. They were a horrible sight, but before LePew could study them any longer, one lifted a heavy laser rifle mounted on it’s arm and opened fire.

LePew shouted and pointed to the archway. His men ran towards it to find two hallways perpendicular to the one they were just in. They took cover around the corner and returned fire. LePew put away his pistol he was carrying and unslung the rifle. Loading a round, he aimed for the first one he saw and fired. A burst of magma poured out and fried the death droid. As it fell, three more took it’s place. The hallway was flooded with them now, all charging towards them.

Taking his comm out again, he turned it on to the channel they were using to communicate to the other team.

“Kas', we are getting rushed by dozens of droids. I’m not sure-”

The device died as a round went through it, along with his hand. Looking towards it, his hand was a bloody mess. He dropped the remains of the communicator and pulled his hand towards his chest. His eyes studied the bridge.

“You two, with me. We are going in and seeing if we can stop those.”

Without hesitation, LePew rushed out of cover and ducked into the bridge. The two he mentioned hesitated, them followed.

Inside, LePew was met by a large command throne. Wires littered the ground and snaked to the throne where a figure sat in some type of power suit. LePew was about to speak when the two behind him were shot down. The thing sitting in the throne lowered it’s left arm.

LePew raised the plasma rifle.

---