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RP: LSDF Akahar [Chapter 2.0] - Answer Me

Merril tried to turn a deaf ear towards Gough and Yar'mak's chatter. Those sorts of thoughts wouldn't do her well, here.

And yet those thoughts consistently arrived. Every bad memory she ever had crept into her head like an invasive species of flora, creaking into her background thoughts. Every near-mauling by an animal. Every second of her crash. On and on, the thoughts flowed.

"Fucking hell. . ." she muttered under her breath, following Bastion through the middle. She did what she could to steady her nerves. "Shut the chatter. We're here to get shit done, not gossip like roosters in a cockhouse!"
 
"Keep moving," Mars said, her own gun checking left to right and up to down, looking for signs of opposition or danger. "We cross this and we are in the clear. Also for goddess' sake don't bloody touch anything. Hellion keep close." Mars wanted Al'ris at an arms lenght, the leader noticed how fidgety the berserkerous fyunnen was earlier. Mars wanted to be able to spot Al'ris fast, should she do something dumb.
 
"Oh. Ok then. Suppose we should still stay away from it in case it suddenly grabs us." Veronica seemed satisfied with the answer. Her helmet was moving every which way, apparently very interested in her surroundings... whether it was her watching for threats or just plain curiosity wasn't clear.

"Fuck you birds are twitchy. Venus or whatever her name is right. Don't touch shit if ya don't want to be eaten alive by moving metal!" Her 'encouragement' was likely not helping anyone's nerves as she floats over by Alris, acting as though she were leisurely floating through a swimming pool.
 
LCS Mok'Ro, Main Cargo Storage
Super Metroid - Brinstar, Red Soil Swampy Area

"Alright, sheesh. Deep breaths, you know?" Gough replied to Merril. He was trying to make light of all this to cope with it. It wasn't an uncommon response to the unknown to try and poke fun at it and make it seem not as bad as it was. "This is ... pretty fuckin' strange stuff I agree."

"We're still here, Soft-Touch," Al'ris said, looking over her shoulder to Merril behind her. The Fyunnen was capable of providing body cover for the nervous medic. "We won't let you down." She nodded down at her.

"I agree with V though. Not getting eaten's probably in our best interests, ahah."
"Gough!" Yar'mak snapped at him.
"Alright, fine, sheesh!" Gough groaned and sighed in his communications. "The back wall's only several metres ahead." He positioned his legs upwards and thrusted ever so gently to slow his forward drifting speed until coming to a complete stop. He looked at the wall and he could see panels of it floating in space awkwardly, wires exposed and partially worked on. It looked as though there was some inspection or maintenance going on before the ship flipped.

Looking further up, the windows to the Captain's suite were intact. One of the windows was open, like a sliding door off to one side. It seemed so much more coherent and intact compared to the rest of the melting innards of the Cargo Bay. Yar'mak put his hand up for pause. "I'll take point," he volunteered, adjusting course to float upwards and be the first set of boots on the wall. His shoes attached to the metal without incident, but he seemed to be watching his step as he walked up the wall - his floor had neat, panel-shaped holes in it from whatever they were working on.

All things considered, he knew it was unwise to step into exposed wires regardless of whether the ship was a man-eating metal machine monster thing. He started to crouch down as he got closer to the open window, eventually on his knees as he pointed the business end of his gun into the room, flashlight on.

This was the living quarters of captain Mara 'Longwalk' Korro Lmanel. Yar'mak could see that the their quarters seemed more or less intact; desk was still there, computer still plugged in but the chair was on the floor. There were books floating in the room, on various theological subjects, including various editions of the annals of Lorath theocracy. They were obviously devout, and thoughtful to a fault. One drifted past Yar'mak's line of fire and obscured the flashlight.

Then Yar'mak looked at the bed to his left against the wall and saw what looked like a person under the covers, someone in an EVA suit, lying on the bed and facing away from him. Yar'mak held up a fist behind him and raised a single finger. Single target ahead. He then beckoned to the others to follow his route.

"Single being, IFF unknown," he radioed under his breath, flashlight fixated at the figure under the bed. It seemed to stir beneath his sheets, and Yar'mak's hand tensed on the forward grip of his weapon. "Movement," he said, voice raised a little. "Hurry." Gough's head perked up and he landed where Yar'mak landed and started walking up the wall, Silva rifle raised.

Yar'mak could see that whoever was under the bed seemed to be waking up from a deep sleep. Yar'mak saw the figure rise from the bed with the cover draped over them, rubbing the helmet of their EVA suit. The silence of space meant that not a single thing could be heard - not the sheets shuffling, not the scratching of fingers against helmet, just breathing and the crackle of idle radio. They didn't look they were part of the ship at all. The emblems on the EVA suit's shoulders were those of the Mok'ro. The rank bars were on the other shoulder, but he couldn't see them from where he was standing.

They then looked directly into Yar'mak's flashlight and raised a hand to shield themselves, then pulled the cover over themselves and tried to fall behind the bed for protection, but in the lack of gravity, they ended up flailing in space on their bed, dragging the bedsheets with them. Not a word could be heard from them nor could their face be seen under their EVA helmet from the flashlight's glare and the bedsheets.

Yar'mak lowered his rifle. "Possible friendly, probably disoriented," he said before changing who he was translating to, "Keib, you might wanna look at this."
 
Merril's eyes flicked over the surroundings, trying to take in the immediate area so nothing would catch her off guard. But, upon noticing the figure, her rifle went to point straight at it.

Damn form-fitting suits. . . she mentally grumbled to herself, feeling one of those itches that come along when you have no feasible way of scratching them around her neck. Still, her aim didn't waver.
 
"Soft-touch, check the survivor, or whoever it is." Mars said to her team. She was busy making sure no one was jumping their back. "But be careful. Surviving on vacuum filled ship in EVA suit for this long? That does not look right to me." It sure was strange that anyone would survive here for months in an EVA suit, even if there were systems that could replenis oxygen of the suit, and possible some way to get proteins and energy into you, something else would get to you. Either you would go crazy or cook within your own filth.
 
Merril nodded, pulling out her lens from before and scanning the individual.

She really hoped that he was just damn lucky and not something freakish like the last guy.
 
LCS Mok'Ro, Main Cargo Storage
Merril looked through the lens at the suited figure, who floated into the ceiling and grabbed it, casting the blankets she was tangled in aside, then pushing herself down and letting her boots lock against the floor magnetically, allowing Merril to scan them clearly. On their previously concealed shoulder was their rank patch, and they were the Captain of the LCS Mok'ro.
Merril's Sensor Monocle said:
ID: Mara 'Longwalk' Korro Lmanel
Vessel: LCS Mok'Ro


Heart Rate: 83 BPM
Breathing: Agitated
Radiation Level: Acceptable

- Currently suffering from Severe Malnutrition
- Currently suffering from Prolonged Clean Oxygen Deprivation
- Currently suffering from Chafing
- Recommend Food, Water, Shelter, Oxygen, Hygiene

Long Term non-invasive Medical Attention Required
Further looking at them to the naked eye showed that their ribs were visible against their EVA suit, and they'd been wearing it for an extended period. "Y-you. You're alive. You're not from here," the figure in the suit stated the obvious, voice weak and emaciated, looking around the room.

A floating piece of Lorath religious text bumped into her arm as she flailed with joy, sending it across the room and bumping into a wall, "Goddess preserve me! My prayers have been answered!" She looked at the patches of the Away team and her head tilted beneath her helmet, "Ah...Akahar? Isn't that... Isn't that the heretic ship?"

Gough faked a cough and groaned. On the private communication channel amongst the rest of the squad he groaned: "Everyone's heard of us it seems."
"Comes with the territory," Yar'mak replied as he lowered his rifle and stood up, adopting a relaxed stance.

"Then consider this your redemption if you bring me back and take me home!" Korro pleaded, approaching Gough. "I have only subsisted on the Suit's ability to keep me alive for many months - I've lost track of. Uh. Time, but! Time is but an illusion in the face of my devotion." Gough leaned back, eyes wide beneath his helmet as he could see into the bloodshot eyes of Korro. "Please."

"Help." Gough sternly whispered into his communications.
Al'ris sighed over the squad communication and asked Mars, "Do we really have to take her with us?"

LSDF Akahar, Bridge
Keib looked at what the away team was seeing and his jaw dropped. She was alive, somehow. "Well I'll be damned," he said to himself as he scratched his temple. He was a sceptic when it came to the power of the Goddess. "That's some divine intervention right there that saved her." He looked over to Greg and said, "Please fetch me a cuppa."

Greg mumbled back in reply and waddled off happily. Keib then sent the images and audio over to Aiesu with the note: 'I don't believe this.' before he looked back at the screens. "Well. If it isn't too much I'd like to talk to them, please. This is incredibly valuable, we have a survivor." This was valuable for all parties, the survival of them meant well for the LSDF, well for Lazarus, and even better for Keib's reputation. It was a win-win-win if they could make it out of this alive. Greg returned with a cup of tea for Keib, and he grabbed it and took a sip, smiling ear to ear.

What couldn't escape his mind was how long it'd take for this to finish. This survivor might slow them down. He looked over to the Bridge Bunnies, "I want the entire Hangar converted into a quarantine zone. Anything coming into it, including our shuttle is to remain there until our pickup arrives."
"On it sir, commencing lockdowns and quarantine protocols."
"What is the ETA for our pickup?"
"Seven hours, thirty five minutes," Keib replied.

The remaining Engineering and general staff aboard the Akahar started scurrying into activity. Vithr was also there to watch things, working alongside Bes'linn's men and women to ensure that everything would be airtight for the arrivals. "C'mon, I want this place tighter than the restrictions levied upon Yamataians visiting Nyli!" he cajoled.
 
"She's the captain, alright. And not jacked up like the wall-guy back there, either," Merril said, passing along what she knew. "She's gonna need a lot of care when we get back, though. It looks like she's been stuck in this room without anything for a while."
 
Veronica had been standing outside the door for a bit. She'd been strangely quiet the past few minutes, which would be odd until her vitals pinged a sudden rush. She was apparently administering a drug right in the middle of their mission. Her flagrant misuse of her time on mission not withstanding, she finally took an interest as people started talking in the other room. The Geshrin leaned into the doorway. "Hoooly shit, you got a live bird in here? They're supposed to die before the miners aren't they?" She makes an unintelligible noise that could be mistaken for a laugh.

"Can we keep her? I'll feed her 'n shit." Her racism apparently lost its muffler when she was high. The idea that she could keep even an actual pet alive seemed dubious at best.
 
". . . Veronica, shut the fuck up," Merril growled at the Geshrin, somehow resisting the urge to smack the Geshrin upside the head. "Keep that up and you ain't gettin' any."
 
"Yeah we do," Mars answered to Al'ris. She sighed and looked over to the survivor. How did the woman survive here for so long? Even EVA suit could not protect her for months and months alone. It was not possible. Something was fishy. "But we take her straight to carantine."

Mars looked away and conecter to her private line to Keib. "Keib, we have survivor. It is the captain. She seemed to lost few cogs in her head, but she is alive." The woman reported to the captain of Akahar. "It is fishy though, there is no life support here and she states that her EVA suit helped her survive for months. I suggest heavy carantine on our arrival. Also she is severly malnourished and in bad state, we should get her to Akahar and into scanner as soon as possible."

Mars then looked at the engineer in her group. "So could you get power up in here back on, once we disable the FTL?" She asked him.
 
LCS Mok'Ro, Main Cargo Storage
"I don't think the power ever ran out," Kam'kebek observed as he looked around the room. Up until now, he'd been following the Away Team quietly, keeping his thoughts to himself on how this mission was. Initially, it just seemed like an elaborate practical joke until the seriousness and strangeness of the situation dawned on him. "There are still power signals but whatever's gotten a hold of the ship has ruined some of the connections or the fuse hub, hence why we're not seeing anything properly powered right now."

He turned around to look at the body of the diseased ship he'd just floated through, all of its gross and uncanny imagery an affront to how his profession as a tech sentry taught him to see things. See things in the rational, the logical, this reacted to that like so. These were documented reactions that were repeatable. What was unfolding here was undocumented, unrepeatable, and downright bizarre. It just conflicted with his worldview.

"As for the FTL, I think it might be possible to make a clean break with it - if that's what the Captain wants," he nodded.
"Yeah but why remove just the FTL?" Yar'mak asked. "Means the ship can't go anywhere."
"I think pickup will take care of that," Kam'kebek nodded. "Surely it's going to be big enough to fit this little ship in it, we could fit it in ours too."

"Doesn't blowing up FTL kill the power too?" Gough asked.
"Nah," Kam'kebek pointed out. "They're separate things. If they were linked and got taken out, the ship would be as good as dead."

"We're not dead though!" Korro babbled as she stuck close to Mars now. "We're just beginning to live now! This is the prime time of our life!"

LSDF Akahar, Bridge
Keib was quietly beginning to wonder what Veronica's angle on this was. The canary metaphor made the sides of his mouth tug into a sly grin,

When Mars told him who the survivor was, he snapped to attention. "The Captain?" Keib asked, leaning into the screen, his voice over transmission raising in volume. "That's... for lack of a better word, miraculous." His thoughts on the Lorath faith were still cast into doubt after his beliefs were shattered, but it seems the beliefs of others existed and were gratified too, the Goddess dealing them a more favourable hand in light of a terrible situation. "See if you can patch me through to their suit. I have a lot of questions to ask them."

He then sent a message to Aiesu as he kept her on the line: 'We have a survivor. They don't look infected.'

"Proceed with getting the ARIA Core and Black Box. They should be out the door and a floor beneath you. Also if possible, feed the survivor. Can't let that malnutrition get any worse."
 
"Right, right," Merril affirmed, reaching into her medipack for a nutrient injector - made for situations with starved spaceborne survivors. She finally turned her attention fully on the survivor, placing one hand on her shoulder while looking about for an injection port. Memories of her youth cropped up in the back of her head as she administered the good stuff, of her orthodox mother and teachings of their forebears. But, the passages of the books were elusive, and the lines of wisdom seemed to escape Merril, just barely, this time.

"Gimme a sec and you'll be right as rain," she told her patient as well as Mars, letting the team leader know that they'd be ready to move in mere seconds.
 
The patient responded as Merril placed the nutrient injector into the administration port and pushed the button down. Her system was flooded with nutrients that fed the system as efficiently as possible to stave off malnutrition in hibernating Llmanel in survival situations. Korro sighed a sigh of relief as she looked to the Medic as she realised what she'd been injected with. "My, you have my thanks," she said, reddened eyes gazing into her.

She seemed to limber up as the nutrient paste travelled through her system, rolling on the balls of her feet and her toes. She seemed to be waiting for Bastion's lead.
 
"Yeah yeah, time of your lives. Enjoy the food shot. Want a cracker?" Astonishingly, somehow, Veronica did indeed reach into a pouch on her gear and pull out a saltine cracker. How she got it in there, why she had it there, what she thought the Llmanel was going to do with a cracker that was outside her suit, were all a mystery to those around her. Though most of it could probably be answered by 'Veronica is a racist jerk'.
 
"All right troopers," Mars cut into the merry racism Veronica was enjoying at the time. "Okay let's go get the Aria. Eyes peeled and yadda yadda. You know the drill. 'Cat watch over the Mok'ro captain. Veronica watch over our little medic be so kind or something. We move out." With that she turned to the exit and moved for the Aria. She knew Keib will handle the direction if needed. Not that it was a long way anyway.
 
LCS Mok'Ro, Primary Engineering
"Yes ma'am."
"Roger."
"On it."

Came the chorus of acknowledgements from Al'ris, Gough and Yar'mak respectively as they fell into line with Mars. Gough, however had an inappropriate smile on his face from Veronica's gibes.

"Hey pass me that after will ya?" he joked. For his contribution, he got a jab in the ribs from Al'ris that threatened to knock him over before he fell in line and sighed. Al'ris sighed like a disapproving school teacher. The team started heading out the Captain's room.

Merril noticed that Korro was following them, acting kind of birdlike as she tried to look into Merril's eyes. It was understandable - after all she'd just provided them with food and nourishment and they required medical supervision. "I have the authorisation keys too. Convenient no?" she broadcasted to the others as they passed through the door out to the hallways, and down the stairs. Once the Away Team left the relative safety of the Captain's room, they found that those unfamiliar surroundings were coming back again.

"Mars, remember," Keib's voice was in her ear as they took the stairs down, finding more of the technologic to blend with the organic. "Deactivate the FTL first. Get Kam'kebek to do a controlled hardware burnout, explode it out clean and into space; or the safest bet I can think of if you can't do the others is to dump the Antimatter canisters so there's no fuel for the FTL."

The waypoints came up on Mars and Kam'kebek's HUDs. "The cannisters shouldn't be far from the FTL or ARIA. My gut's telling me that if we move the ARIA first, whatever has the Mok'ro might..." He paused to find a word. "Act on instinct." The imagery she was seeing and Keib's choice of words didn't quite gel together. He was treating the ship like a living thing. "Keib out, good luck and hang in there - you're all doing a good job so far."

The radio fizzled out and Mars and her team were standing there in Primary engineering, peering at the Brain of the Mok'ro. The ARIA core seemed to be throbbing gently as veins seemed to be snaking into it from the floor, formerly power and data cables. Not far behind them was the FTL Core, which the Mok'ro had seemed to have grown on some more. Intake pipes for Antimatter were still leading towards the Antimatter cannisters, and being on the peripheries of the ship, they looked more technologic than organic, thankfully.

Mars' soldiers held their tongues as they looked around. However, Korro didn't seem to have any of that, "I miss this place when it wasn't as veiny." Korro told Merril on a babbling tangent. "I don't think it draws the room together, I mean, that ARIA in the middle is the centre of attention, being the ship's brain and all."

And now that she mentioned it, it did seem to look a bit like a brain rather than a standard pair of cylinder-shaped servers. "Looks kind of gross doesn't it?"
 
"All right, secure the room," Mars said as she watched the 'brain' in the middle of the room. Things were getting even more creepy as they proceeded. Also how the fuck should they recover Aria when it was like that. "Kam, deal with the FTL. You are the brain guy, so I leave it to you. Just try to not blow us up, will you?"

With that the gian Fyunnen walked to Veronica. "So what do you think about all this shit? I could use outsiders point of view by this point." She asked the feisty pirate.
 
Merril easily batted Korro away whenever they tried to look at her head on - she didn't need somebody hovering around the front of her vision blocking it. The team came across their objective, and what they saw sickened Merril. Not in the usual sort of "oh god what have they done" sense, either. A wave of nausea ran down her spine and into her stomach as she sized up the neurologically-aestheticized computer brain.

"That ain't fucking right. . ." Soft Touch mumbled under her breath, clutching her stomach. Her skin crawled at the sight. She thought long and hard about this, staving off the sickness with the power of thought alone.

I am strong. I am strong. I am strong.
 
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