RP: Die Screaming [Die Screaming] I Shall Not Die From The Cold.

Redhawk scooped up the fire extinguisher and tossed it at the now moving Sgt. Canterbury. "Hot Wheels says we need to activate ESDR mode on a control panel. I'll find one if you keep the fire down. " He began trying to boot up a likely looking panel near the broken hatch that led forward to the cockpit of the now grounded flyer. The screen buzzed in and out but Waller finally found the emergency functions menu and activated ESDR mode. Annnddd.....nothing happened. "DAMNIT HOTWHEELS!!"

Stenkagorad - Finally Awake

Tobias limped for the time being as he walked through the trench, shuddering in the cold as he made his way towards the interior of the shuttle to help evacuate and scavenge what he could. His pants had been torn up a bit badly when he'd been thrown from the shuttle and one leg looked to be in particularly poor condition, with a nasty cut running the front of his thigh and onto his calf. Not likely to stop him from running in an emergency, but very painful for the time being. At least it wasn't bleeding too much. He sighed and searched around his person for the cloak he'd kept for himself, without any success. His memory was still a little bit hazy, but he presumed he must have left it with his own luggage. At least he still had the cigars in his breast pocket, those were expensive and he somehow doubted the rest had survived.

The ex-operative's hearing rang as he gave Kirill a nod of approval while the boy reported the situation. A good head on his shoulders, and he still seemed to be keeping calm for the time being. Francis seemed to be... well, she was the worse for wear but at least she was still alive. Tobias was none-too-sure about the rest of the marines yet. He tried to appear reassuring for the time being, though that wasn't helped by his slight wince when the rear section of the shuttle exploded in the distance.

He surveyed the damage for a moment, resting his leg and shivering against the cold for as long as he could justify it. There was still work to be done, and it needed to be done quickly. He shifted on his feet, beginning to make his way into the shuttle before stopping and turning back to Kirill to ask, "I'm headed into the shuttle to help pull people out of there. While I'm in there, do you know where I could find the emergency transponder in this thing? I can get it on, I just need to find it before this thing goes up like a firecracker."

As he spoke to the young boy, he activated his mindware, searching for connections for a moment before finding Molotra and Carina and sending a message over the mindware network that had been set up back when they were stuck on Ukk. <<Molotra, Carina, are you awake? Can you see anyone we know near you?>> Tobias shivered again as he stood at the threshold between the heat of the fires inside the shuttle and the biting cold outside it. "Nothing burns like the cold..." He repeated the words of the figure who'd found him in the snow, and peered off in that direction. After waiting for Kirill to answer the question about the transponder, he indicated towards the direction he'd come from and asked, "Say, do you know who it was that went off that way looking for survivors? I couldn't make him out when I got out of the snow."

Another happy landing

Quilly's eyes cracked open into stationary chaos. There was wailing, crying, shouting, a familiar burning scent - electrical fire - and she could already feel that it was pretty damn chilly after the temperature regulators had started to fail from the crash. She was sluggish in standing up, her left wing tangled up in the half-equipped coat Tobias had given her. The spike of pain from her flightlimb shot the birb out of her stupor, though, and Quilly stood up with a suppressed cry. She inspected her wing first, giving it a brief set of prods and grasps... It felt sprained to hell and back, a Charlie Horse of abysmal proportions, but nothing felt broken.

"That fire's not going to stop with an extinguisher alone," Quilly called out as she took stock of the situation, seeing Molo try for the equipment. Half-climbing, half-limping, half-running over, Quilly grabbed the extinguisher and pulled its pin, slammed the top against the floor twice, and started shaking. If she was right, these extinguishers were of the slightly older type, and the regulator would break with those slams - and she'd need that pressure to damn near break anything that's on fire. It'll only work once.

What she really needed was a CO2 flooder to deoxygenate the room, but that wasn't an option right now. Too many people.

"Up, up, let's go! Grab a crate or a body and clear out! There's Explosives in summa these! Grab a crate or get out!" She started to shout, the bird's pint-sized form making a startling amount of noise as older instincts started to resurface from their slumber. Ash pulled a half-crying marine out from underneath an overturned chair and carried him out fast, setting him down outside and a bit to the left of the torn-open door. She moved quickly, slipping in between the flows of other rescuers with startling agility as she'd found anything else important to carry, whether it's cargo or a body.

All the while, her fire-killing bomb was at her side.

Looking through the crates Tanya did manage to find some medical supplies. Thankfully she was much stronger than her 5 foot 2 inch frame looked, and dragged the crates over to the ones organizing the collection of the inventory.
"Over here Cousin." She called to the one calling for a marine, and unlocked the crates.
"Get these to the medics, but make sure they take notes on what they use, who they use it on and how much they use." She told them, her held in check anger just enhancing her resting bitch face. "Now, do you have any idea where the rest of my squad is? I should figure out if they need medical attention or not."

"Fuuuuck," was Carina's answer to Francis. Only to be echoed to Molotra and Tobias over their little private network. While her ears still rang, the medic performed a quick inspection of herself. Everything appeared to be working as intended. Everything moved. Just with a soreness she hadn't felt since an airbike crash when she was just hitting that halfway point between youthful adolescence and her god-awful teen years. But now on her feet again the cold seemed to want to seep into biosynthetic bones that only gave it the middle finger. Didn't stop it from giving it back to her fleshy and bloody parts though.

Staggering a little until her internals righted themselves and steadied her, the medic scanned any bodies she could readily make out. Most were dead, a few of the survivors were alive already being rescued. Supplies were scattered about. Crates, bags, these were the things she made a bee-line toward. Little concealable items mysteriously disappeared about her person. A medical kit slung over a shoulder, a crate under one arm, the stone thread sling of a rifle on the other. A pistol at her hip, knives up her sleeves, her prized balisong secreted away. An extra ration pack or two inside of her jacket.

Just from the look of her, Carina gave off the appearance of a girl way overloaded with material yet still light on her feet as she danced about through debris, the dead, dying, rescuers, and flickering flames.

<"I'm too busy getting shit for us to survive."> Carina emphasized that final word with a vicious kick toward the part of the blown-out door. The metal shrieked like a redheaded stepchild in protest before bending outward for her to trudge forth with her scraped-up supplies. Finding where a piss-poor example of triage was set up her supplies were unceremoniously dumped all save the weapons and rations. Tightening the strap of the rifle Carina trotted back in to repeat the process while Quilly and Molotra worked. Out of their small group, she was possibly the strongest physically despite her size. And now was leveraging that advantage in their favor as she carted crates and bags to and fro as quickly as she could. Augmented lungs let her breathe easier and her other internal goodies allow her the capacity to keep going and going.

But even she knew she couldn't get everything. And was quietly tagging everything she did nab. Saving it all to her Jane, a private inventory of sorts.

Shuttle Interior

With the hatch opened light flooded inside the dark passageway and lit up the interior enough to see by. There was no clear power going to anything besides base power which did little more than keep passive systems on but nothing active. The ESDR did eventually kick on, albeit late as surface vents began to suck up smoke less effectively than the now venting open hatch making it a bit easier to see and breathe inside the shuttle's cabin.

A side effect of this was the manual unlocking of interior doors due to now active fire protocols as the cockpit hatch unceremoniously flung open due to the angle of the shuttle and bathed the rest of the cabin in the red light of an open oven as embers flew out only to be sucked out by the open vacuum of the nearby emergency hatch. The inside of the cockpit was obscured by the heat haze of the fire raging inside of it and gave an indication that if there was any chance the pilots had survived before it was confirmed now that they were no longer among the living to be in such an inferno.

Slowly helping one another towards the hatch with those able to release themselves towards the now open hatch and out of the suffocating sea of choking and burning smoke, the hatch was poihnted slightly up due to the angle of the shuttle and there would be a clear drop for them with Carina at the furthest from the hatch due to her scrounging the wily young medic tripped suddenly on something and landed hard enough that if not for her feminine traits and padding of loot she may very well have broken her jaw on the deck. Looking behind there was an offending and familiar capsule a bit larger than her head she had tripped over that was wedged between the underside of a nearby seat as the familiar MEC-H capsule of the deceased officer she had been tasked with transporting along with the others in the storage somewhere in the shuttle had tripped her up. Still well intact she was halfway towards reaching for it by sheer unconscious action when a hand shot out from the dark beside her and locked a small feminine but an iron-like grasp of a hand around her wrist.

Golden eyes peered almost hooded from the deck as the elf stared at Carina almost in a daze with her glossy-eyed stare reflected by the fires of the cockpit until they fluttered closed and the grip on her wrist loosened and fell off as the elf began with a cough of blood to begin spasming and seizing into a clear tonic seizure beside her.



"The transponder?" Kirill asked, looking briefly deeper into the shuttle, "In the cockpit, perhaps beneath it were I to guess." He made a clear assumption that he was unsure as they both got out of the way for Francis who came out alone this time.

"Hit your head, Kilgee?" Francis wheezed, clutching her injured side while catching her breath in the freezing but fresh air as she joined them, referring to Tobias the name she was clearly more familiar with and unbeknownst to her the still mystery it presented. "Only saw you come in that way, nothing for at least a hundred meters."

Looking out into the tundra her estimation was more or less accurate; There were oceans of debris and even a few distant forms moving around another section of wreck likely doing the same as them, but nothing in between but snow and still forms already being dusted over with a blanket of white.

"Side hatch is open!" Somebody shouted, and a few of the mercenaries helping evacuate started outside and around the shuttle to help where they knew there were now survivors. Kirill started off after them and shared a glance with Tobias after finding no other survivors in her last trip Francis did as well.

Cargo Hold

"What are these?" One mercenary questioned, pulling out a large durandium cylinder from the crate Tanya had unlocked and examining the MEC-H closely before cursing at the irony. Each of the crates contained simular contents as dozens of containers were observed and then left to check others. The only ones Tanya could not open were almost certainly personal effects and kit belonging to individual squaddies which were dragged outside the shuttle and piled up together into the snow. One of them she was lucky enough to come across was her own and opened up via her biometric data.

All her personal effects in the world including her weapons which easily had Their trigger locks removed, and spare magazines which no Nepleslian let alone a Kuznyetski would neglect to travel without. There was no Golem armor, useful as the insulation in it might be, but her cold weather gear at least was present and basic travel and survival supplies every marine traveled with.

Eventually, however, she and the others were forced out as a ceiling vent began slowly flooding the cargo hold with smoke from somewhere and she was pushed back into the sub-zero degree arctic if a bit better off now equipped.

Boxes of locked gear crates along with some she could not open bearing the mark of the SAW corps and the NYRDs were piled up in a windbreak as a few mercenaries dug with pieces of the shuttles panels to create a bowl around the entrance to stop the wind from pushing snow inside the cargo hold and sealing it off and to protect them from the harshest of the freezing winds. Perhaps ten feet above and to the side of them a hatch had been opened and someone fell rather than jumped out of the hatch to land in the snow while entwined with a woman in marine fatigues who immediately sputtered awake shocked by the cold as Vai was given the most extreme case of a cold-water wakeup as she fell into the soft but cold-burning snow.

There were others up there, and hot-choking smoke was gushing out from behind them and into the open air as the vacuum it caused stopped the visible cockpit from burning on its exterior as the flames began to pull inside. There were forms rushing from the far end of the shuttle, practically beating a path through the snow towards them as well as seemingly most of the survivors from their part of the shuttle one way or another began to converge towards the cargo hold...

Redhawk hopped out of the hatch, landing in the snow beside Pai, the vomit still flash frozen to her uniform. She seemed like she would be ok. He drug himself up into the bitterly cold winds and began to force a path through the snow to the cargo hold. He needed a weapon. They were sitting ducks, and shooting down a large shuttle like this, someone was likely to come try and do a "damage assessment" before too long.

It's not the heat, its the humidity that will kill you. Ancient philosopher.
Caffran did a head count of his squad. Looked they had all made it out alive. Several of them were already grabbing gear or tending to the wounded. Pretty good for a relatively new unit. The cold was bitter. Caff had experienced cold like this before, but those other times he had been properly suited up for being out in it. This time he wasn't. Quickly he did a self examination. No major cuts or breaks, just miner ones and bruises he could tend to later. First thing to do was to get proper cold weather gear.

He located his duffle he had thrown out of the shuttle and quickly put on the cold weather gear he had packed. Insolated pants, jacket and gloves. Finally over all, he wrapped his camo-cloak around him like a poncho, covering his head and face as well. His camo-cloak was made out of a special material. It was highly durable and would reflect heat back to his body. In fact, it could mask a body from heat scanners and had an uncanny ability to blend into any environment. All without any electronics. It had been used by Nepleslian scouts for centuries and was a trademark apparel for his clan.

Now that he was properly dress, he needed weapons. He moved over to where Carina and Tanya had been stacking crates. A quick scan of them reviled his own personal one. Quickly he entered in his bio code and opened the crate. He drew out each weapon and did a visual inspection while loading them each in turn. M3 Assault Rifle, Sawed off plasma shotgun, two extra pistols with silencers, an extra straight silver knives and a Vibro-Saw. Plus a half dozen grenades' and a few dozen clips for his weapons. Caff also had an emergency transmitter. A little something he had held onto after his brief tour as an IPG commando. It could not only send out an emergency destress signal, but could actually set up a secure transmission for specific updates to command. Caffran geared up, putting as many weapons and extra clips as he could fit and stuffing the others in his ruck, along with two extra med kits and some MREs.

Suited up Caffran made his way over towards Tobias. Tobias had been the leader of the old guard in the squad and was an IPG agent himself. The man also had impressive skills with electronics. "Corporal Carrick." Caffran waved the man over and handed him the transmitter. "We're in a real fix. I'm not sure what exactly happened but I know we need to regroup and be prepared for anything." Caff nodded towards the transmitter. "See if you can use that to pick up any chatter. I'd like to know before hand if anyone is coming to inspect the crash and the intentions of said people before we start broadcasting a distress signal that can be heard by anyone."

Near the Cargo Hold

"...Don't call me hotwheels you lanky c**t, or I'll shorten you down to my size." Molotra met Redhawk's lack of empathy by mentally going into talking to pirates and general thugs mode. Her head was still ringing. She was not in the mood for idle humour. "Ship is fucked, d'ya want me to do?"

<"Tobias, everyone else looks in one piece here... Pai is out like a light. I'll hack their mech-legs upright in a mo, worse case."> A transmission sent out whilst they stumbled towards the cargo hold, pivoting their legs upright again to stop panicking stragglers from falling over them. Queasy with the blaring lights spinning around the inside of their skull, they put some fingers against the plug socket in the back of their head, wondering if it had been damaged somehow. She hoped people were actually receiving her communications. <"Carina... I'll... meet you in cargo...">

Following Quilly's ramble-rousing, they bumped into Tanya in the process.

"Big girl out cold. Think it's safe to wake 'er up?" A quick snippet to the unfamiliar face, pointing them towards the other new woman. Not a great time for small talk. "Don't get split up, we should all form up wherever Caffran is..."

Before that, the short tank had to find her personal container. Not just for the cold weather gear.

Followed it's transponder signal to find the large green tube, licked the biometric scanner to get it to open.

Inside, her voidwalker suit- Not exactly standard issue, but not much choice now. The familiar orange padding of the auto-heated pants felt like a sauna, compared to the blazing chill now infesting her ice-cold metal limbs.

Next, unfurled from an extensive roll of bubble wrap, her one and only. A four-barrelled metal bazooka the thickness and weight of a tree trunk, impossible to even lift for all but the power armoured or insanely modified. Based on the components of a Novacorp PA pulse laser, it chirped and clunked as the onboard computer recognised the forklift's cherishing grasp.

"I missed you too, baby."

<"...Anybody know how far from the settlement we splashed down?... If we gotta walk to the other side of the ice-rock to Stenkagorad, we really are screwed... Never mind fighter attacks, can we even carry supplies that far?...">

Their digital mind wandered to the transponder. Best to get as much information out of it as possible, before it all went up in smoke.

Lupin retrieved his own crate and carried it a little deeper into the wreck, using the makeshift bandanna to wipe some of the blood from his brow before tossing it aside with the rest of the debris littering the area, what did it matter when there was so much mess everywhere already.

The nanomachines in the sniper's veins cracked through his case's ID-lock as he placed it down, arms extending to prop the case open so the young man could go over all his belongings.


A short while later Lupin re-emerged in gear more befitting the current situation. Black gloves and a high-necked shirt of a similar colour poking out from what was otherwise a standard-issue cold-weather uniform, broken up by the lines of a fully populated plate-carrier, long-rifle and a collapsed carbine, the bag on his back bulging with any extra gear he could grab before the smoke became intolerable.

Under each arm, and carried with surprising ease even for a man of Lupin's build, was another pair of heavy-set crates that he promptly added to the windbreak.

"Do we at least know what the ship's bearing was before she went down?" Lupin offered as a question in-line with Molotra's, squinting as his eyes scanned the horizon, small specks of snow gathering on the young man's thick eyelashes and the synthetic-woollen beanie atop his head.

"I don't like the idea of hoofing it there on foot, but I equally dislike the idea of staying the night out on this plane without a solid plan, something would have picked up our scent by now~" he continued, fiddling with one glove as a healthy blush of warmth fell across the secret prince's bronze features.

"Sergeant, a few of us could try and secure that treeline so that we can ferry the wounded somewhere away from the smoke and wind while you get them stable and prep some stretchers. It's your call," Lupin offered as an idea, something, anything to keep them all going while they still had that initial adrenaline high of surviving such a devastating crash.

He turned to Borok and some of his mercenaries who were up and about, "And one of your men if you could spare them, Borok, a good navigator," Lupin humbly requested, swinging his long-gun around to sit comfortably in the crook of his arms, taking some comfort in the familiar feeling of checkered wood against his palm. He knew the weight of that request, and so soon after their situation had become apparent, but being proactive would help them out in the long-run. He just hoped the mercenary leader could follow that train of thought.

Tanya when she first found her crate didn't waste time, she simply grabbed what was needed and her guns and ammo, before locking it again. Quickly putting on the cold-weather gear and equipment. Her weapons, her issued combat knife, HHG, M43 Nova Rifle and ammunition for such. In addition to these she slipped on the back holster for her baby, the weapon she made for her coming of age ceremony. A pump-action 4-gauge hybrid shotgun that worked like her issued HHG, just on a much larger and deadlier scale.

She helped get the crates out of the cargo hold and stacked, looking for whatever could be useful for the current situation while at it.
Her anger lessened somewhat at the arrival of her squad, thankful that none of them were dead.
She didn't speak much as her squad and her cousins worked around her and with her. Part of it was just concentrating on the work in front of them.
Other than that well... she was kind of embarrassed that she had completely missed her squads arrival on the dropship, her silence more to stop her from blurting out something embarrassing or just plain stupid. She didn't after all know these people, not like she knew her cousins. She didn't know what to say other than just what was required to get the job done.

Clayton thankfully found his gear using the sleve of his soot covered shirt to whipe the sweat forming over his brow from the heat of the plan but also due to the devastation all of it would have brought if it were to cook off. Unlocking the crate he began heaving out the contents and applying it to himself. A short while later he would be in his cold weather gear with a plate carrier packed to the gills with mags of both standard ammo for his M3 and quake ammo. as well as multiple bandoleers one across his waist and across his shoulder containing "normal" mags and a couple drum mags for his gjallarhorn strapped to his back.

Making his way to the others, Lock stocked and ready to rock Clayton would walk over to Molotra, "Hey you doing alright Big girl? Hope this counts as better than the pea shooter." Digging his hand into one of the bandoleers he pulled out of of the three Potassium Spike Grenade. "Here it aint much but hope it makes up for shooting you back then."

Crashed Shuttle
They didn't even shoot us down right...

Quilly had thrown her half-bomb, half-fire-extinguisher improvisation into the firebox that USED TO BE the cockpit of the megashuttle, after the draft picked up from the suddenly-opened hatch. With a chaotic BANG the extinguisher ruptured, sending suppressant and gas all over the hungry fire - quelling it for the shortest of moments before it came back with a vengeance.

"Damn, that didn't last! Move, move! Cold's better than fire people!" The pipsqueak bird shouted to try her best to herd the uncoordinated, disoriented and conscious out of harm's way. With one body deposited into the scaldingly-cold snow, Quilly wasted no time clambering into the shuttle once more and pulling another out. And another. Once the people were clear she helped drag out anything resembling a container that she could find in the cabin.

Their supplies were limited, but so was their time. She didn't bother trying to unseal any biometrics since it seemed other people were already working on popping those seals.

Crash Entrance -> Passenger Cabin Storage Compartment

After warning Kirill and Francis to "Keep an eye out" regarding any figures in the distance, Tobias entered the ship. As he picked his way through the wreckage he noticed Quilly's attempts to put out the fire in the cockpit and had written off the possibility of retrieving the transceiver from there. Changing direction, he began trying to find his way back to the section of the seating area he'd been assigned before being blown out of the ship. If he was lucky, he'd be able to find his duffel there before trying to make his way towards the cargo bay where the others were retrieving their crates of gear, which had been stowed there by the baggage handlers. The seating area was on the way to the back, so it made sense to take a moment to stop. <"I've got no idea yet. If we can figure out a way to get a signal down here, I should be able to geolocate us, but the transceiver's in that oven up front.">

As he passed Caffran, he took the transmitter from the sergeant with a nod, just the thing he'd been needing. "I'll see what I can do after I grab my stuff. I'm not eager to walk very far in this mess." He said, gesturing to his tattered clothes. Finally making his way to his seating area, Tobias was relieved to find that his area had been spared too much fire, and spent a moment fiddling with the lock to one of the overhead storage compartments before bags came tumbling out. Quickly grabbing his duffel and slinging it over his shoulder, the operative began to hurry in the direction that he'd seen others going and returning from with their larger personal storage boxes.

As he entered the cargo hold, Tobias saw Tanya, Clayton, and Molotra all unpacking items from their crates, and shook his head at them as he began to search for his own. "Just get your boxes and carry them out," He advised, though in a tone of voice that made it clear that argument wasn't an option, "We can unpack once we're safely away from the ticking time bomb."

The man winced as he slid his crate out from underneath a few others and picked it up. At least it was only standard reinforced plastic instead of metal. With his duffel over one shoulder, and his crate held in both arms, he began to make his way out of the ship, back to where the survivors were rallying. Glancing around, he made his way over to Kirill and told the young man, "You're doing great so far, once everyone's out, you ought to try and get a head count of your father's men." He glanced over to where the boy's sister still sat and added "And... I'm sorry for your family's loss."

Shuttle

"Those are not trees as you know them." Borok spared a glance to where Lupin had been looking and shook his head in response to the request. "Things grow big here; Trees, animals, all of them. Those there will be taller than a hive spire and thicker than most starships. They may look close but those giants I would be are twenty kilometers or more distant and you'll not make it there before nightfall."

From the same general direction, and the advice to watch for others a couple of other mercenaries had begun clomping through the thick snow toward them from another segment of the crash and within a few minutes were at their position and taking shelter in the snow brake.

"Good to see you, boss." One greeted between baited breaths while the other moved off towards the underside of the shuttle to the wounded.

"Report," Borok demanded, his attention split between the man and looking up towards the shuttle expectantly.

"Shuttle broke in three pieces. Other than yours or ours the tail end's practically all over the place and most of our kit is buried deep. We got basics but little enough small arms and until we can get a recovery team from Stenka our suits are buried or busted. We think we can get one up-and-op if just for tha commo but SOP got most of them drained and needin ah charge so we aint flyin it outa here no time soon."

"Do it. Get Rammi if hes alive he knows the local channels and use it to dig up what you can. What else?"

"Outridahs are scrap and caravans are lost. We not walkin outa here either."

Before he could finish the other mercenary rejoined them with a grim expression on her face.

"With yours we got sixteen standin and fifty-two layin down wounded all told. Some of them is pretty grim and wont make a few hours more so I say if we get pickup in the next twelve hours we can maybe save three of the most crit but we gonna lose at least two or more an hour to shock. Most of tac-med was near the rear of the shutt when it went down and that part tossed em all out at thirty-thousand feet so not more we can do than make em comfy till a bird finds us."

Borok was stone-faced at the response that of his several hundred men barely a pittance were still alive. Kirill, however, doubled over and vomited on the ground which steamed in the cold and froze almost instantly prompting a followup from the merc.

"It early spring so gonna get real cold soon; Maybe neg-fifty by zero-dark this time of year. Too many wounded on our end to move em all and we all burn too much energy if we try but we situated not too bad in the hull so we'll sit tight. Once we get commo up and running we'll have Rammi run over new comm so we can keep up at night."

The mercenaries and their boss kept on like this for some time, discussing the logistics and situation of the company. It became clear that unless someone tracked them down soon they would be there overnight at least and if the weather was clear enough could navigate by the stars to find their position of the crash and guestimate a rescue-response from the settlement.

While this went on the younger mercenary lingered about Tobias and Caffran when the latter spoke up and gauged the younger merc.

"Your elysian friend tried something earlier and it failed but I think with the vacuum now-" He paused, the thought of the cockpit and the interior they had all been in jogging some memory. "There was another of you, a woman, was there not? Did she also?" The question lingered as something else clearly rose as he almost slipped in the snow with a curse of "Grandmother!" and ran towards the back of the shuttle.

Now alone there was the transmitter to consider. It was a basic-issue lifeline that while seemingly small and unimportant contained a very small and short-ranged subspace transmitter. It would not transmit out of the system, but could and would easily transmit a distress call to any and all SMDIoN vessels within several AU that an operator was in distress and to move with all haste to support them.

The implications, however, were in those actions.

Any SMDIoN vessel narrowed it down to possibly only one that they knew of in the system from their briefing packet.

And the Hard Charles was limp in orbit...

The system still had Rooks and a Bulwark in orbit though. And while it contained neither navy or marines as of yet it would still have Central Corps controllers for its functions by design that if nothing else would be monitoring most military frequencies.

Tobias broke the seal, exposing the plunger on the device, and activated it. There was no outward indication that it was working other than a now passive signal detectable in his mindware originating from it.

Shuttle interior

The elfs seizure was short-lived but the aftermath still raged as her body spasmed sporadically and jerked as the ancient woman gagged and coughed up blood. There was a steadily growing pool of something dark with the faint smell of copper as some wound continued to leak. With the strained and pinned movements on one side of the womans body it was clear something had her pinned but still before Carina could act there was a violent twist and pull with an audible ripping sound of fabric and sinew and the Elf was freed somehow only to flop onto her side to face Carina as the now empty sleeve that once contained her left arm spurted a slow drizzle of blood over her chest while the aforementioned limb seemed pinched between a break in the shuttle wall where it had practically pinched and then cut it almost the whole way off only for the uncontrolled spasms to pull the final tendons.

The elf Trilliana ceased her jerking and breathed heavily on the deck with shallow, clipped breaths. The whole ordeal had taken mere seconds and had been so spasmodic that the Marine could have barely helped before it had been over even if she tried.

Elves were not neko. Not Nepleslia or Sol or any hardy species. They had been conquered and subjugated by Carinas ancestors ages before and even then without the technological advantage would have stood no chance against most Nepleslians. They were small, weak, and fragile as a species with their longevity and wisdom gained from it being their greatest asset.

They also sometimes made no sense. As was reinforced when the nearly-dead woman infront of Carina opened her eyes with a strange lack of clarity and studied her with a lucidity that should not be possible with someone having lost as much blood and being clearly in shock as she was.

Golden eyes stared deep into a place Carina could not fathom that some might call the soul and saw her every secret, every deed, ever insecurity and weakness. And then saw deeper. Eyes of gold, unblinking pierced her to-

Unblinking...

Her chest no longer rose or fell. And when she shifted slightly the hawkish eyes did not shift to follow. Even the blood flow had staunched not from coagulation of non-existent elf magics or miracle hemosynth unpossessed by the woman but because her heart no longer beat.

The great and ancient elf matriarch of a Kuzynetski clan and her story ended in a freezing cold shuttle in the presence of a stranger as even the beautiful amber-gold luster of her incredible eyes seemed to fade and pale from glory as even a cynicist like Carina Sanroma could recognize that a priceless piece of art, of beauty, of history, was lost and now replaced with a desecrated statue of a once-perfect muse now broken. Even the heat from the burning cockpit had faded from a combination of snow, of wind, and liberal application of fire-extinguisher-based-bombing.

Quilly had left and all that was left in the shuttle was Carina and the dead. The latter was reinforced by the gentle weight of the MEC-H capsule still gently leaning against her ankle. The elf might have had an ST backup... It was rare, and highly unlikely, especially living amongst the Kuznyetski, but there was a small chance. The jar with the hidden dead-officers head and a cargo bay with numerous more could however still be revived. It was what Kokuten would have, what Valentine would have made for a choice; The lives that could be saved took priority, and their lessons taught her that much.


Transponder

The Black Box Transponder of the shuttle was crude and older than Molotra herself if the data was any indication, but was a good sign to start with that it was still intact. While it was not clear if the pilots had given a Mayday, or what their communication had been beyond a wall of encryption it was clear that it was functioning then and was still doing so now.

There was still a collection of now redundant data that while not a means of communication was tethered like a web to all forms of data in the polysentience and could be followed like a string. Like a crude guide or indicator, they led off to mostly bounce-off the stratosphere or be muffled by their oppressive and cold surroundings but some threads still went off into the distance and were connected to other signals though too distant to follow or interact or even send data packets to.

Most pointed skywards, a couple groundwards, and off into the distance in the east to be lost over the horizon at some installation planetside. One pointed towards the very-distant trees and was almost flickering from a weak signal likely lost from some interference but was likely closer than the beyond-horizon former ones.

The box still worked and was transmitting and receiving data but it was unclear what and if anyone was even noticing or looking for it...

Clayton looks around to the group. Their situation is bad at best and he would rather not think of the at worst. Something needed to be done and walking was out of the question. Turning around clayton would take note that the wounded would be going no where fast "Fuck it." Clayton exclaimed as he knelt down and began undoing his bandoleers and removing his winter jacket and termal gear for sleeping handing it off to whoever was in charge of the mercs right now, "Give those to the wounded, we are going no where fast and by this rate people will be dropping like flies if we dont come up with something. Now if anyone wants to help me we can start making snow caves to have someplace to hunker down from the cold but we have to work fast." Clayton said a bit louder.

As he would take out his combat knife and start stacking boxes that were already gone threw to make a windwall. "Look my pa tought me how to survive in several climates we can make a snow cave so long as everyone pitches in and we can get it done in four hours big enough to hold the wounded and us away from the cold. body heat and a small fire keeping us all warm until we can get the radio going." Drawing a diagram with his knife in the snow for others to see what hes talking about.

Waller secured his gear from his personal locker. His combat axe secured in a holster at his waist, and his knife on his chest rig. His chest rig held spare magazines for his M43 Nova and his HHG. A dozen cartridges for 20mm underslung Gjallahorn launcher rounded out the outfit. He double checked his ammunition, water, and broke down the MREs he had, stuffing various edibles into a variety of his pockets for easy access.

Now that his prep work had been completed he went to find Sgt. Canterbury to see what his instructions were.

Carina had just stood and watched as the Elf passed from her death throes. The scent of copper and iron, that sickly smell of blood all combined with the stench of burnt-out circuitry and fire co-mingling into something that could make one's eyes water. Those eyes had been startling, staring at her so. Leaving her feeling naked. Vulnerable. The young Medic found something warm and wet, rapidly cooling trickling down a cheek. Pawing at it, the Nepleslian girl found a faint bit of wetness there.

She'd been silent through it all. It left her a little bewildered. Was it the combination of smells and smoke lacing the air? Or some small part of her that may well feel remorse at the look in those eyes as they seemed to go from seeing all to nothing? The chances of the woman's survival would have been slim, and moving her would have been dangerous if she'd had internal injuries or bleeding. Even with what she had on hand. She blinked, the image of the elf burned into her Jane's memory to send on to the authorities if they ever escaped this unending hell.

"Sorry lady." was all she could muster. Little more than a whisper under her breath. Picking up the MEC-H jar from her side, Carina turned to leave. Paused, looked over her shoulder once more at the rapidly cooling body. Sighing she left.

<"The elf died. Dunno if I could'a saved her in time or not."> She sent to Molotra and Tobias.

"Yeah, build your igloo Yeti-man." Carina said gruffly as she passed Clayton carrying odd-looking canisters under her arms. She still hadn't forgiven the man for being a trigger-happy loon when they'd first encountered the other group. And watched them covertly from time to time.

Caffran tried to keep moving. Partly to help him stay warm but also it helped focus his mind on the problem at hand. It also allowed him to take stock, not only of supplies, but of people too. He could see how many were injured and how badly but also see how those who were up and about were handling things. Most got to their gear and weapons as fast as possible and loaded up for what was to come. That he could appreciate. If he had to be in command of a group of people it was good to know that these people knew what they should be doing without being ordered to do so.

Caffran saw Waller and Lupin both geared up and ready to go. He waved them both over to him. "Take a quick circle around the crash sites, at least half a klick out. See if you can find anything else of value or any other survivors. Our short waves sets are working so if you see anything radio it in. Go."

With that Caffran moved towards the larger group of mercenaries looking for Borok. When he found the big man he went over to him. "Borok, this is your home. You know the elements way better than I do. We're all in this together so for the time being my men and I are at your disposal." Caffran was smart enough to defer to local wisdom. If swallowing his pride and asking for help got him and those under his responsibility out alive Caffran would do it.

Out In The Snow

The black box being in an area rearward of the cockpit helped- Damp from Quilly's airbomb was at least keeping the smouldering fire from destroying it before Molotra's mindware could access it at a distance.

<"Flight control system is borked and the black box is encrypted, I don't think we are going to get directional data from this."> A gruff voice huffed over the radio into Lupin's ear. <"Might be able to figure it out from stellar cartography at night, but doesn't sound like waiting for that is a good idea...">

Now that the painkillers were kicking in and her concussion fading, the short tank's mood was settling into a surprisingly blank state of euphoria. But they were still torn between the classic survival advice of never leaving the vehicle, and the fact that it was clearly on the edge of some catastrophic meltdown. There were just so many parts that it felt wrong to abandon. Useful tools and supplies. The type two in her couldn't ignore that infrastructure, and the certain death that awaited them all without it...

<"Tobias, I am sending you a 3D visualisation of the current transmission model, please review it."> A practical way to use the data, and share it out. Without context it just looked like a strange spiderweb-constellation of glowing green points, with only distance markers as an indicator of real-world relevance. <"I don't know if the object in the tree line is a piece of the shuttle or something else, but it could be shelter... No useful directional data. Unless you can decrypt these ID headers...">

Back in meatspace, this interaction was interrupted by Clayton talking to her, handing them some grenades of a type they didn't quite recognise. After a moments pause, she nodded with that kind of blank, far-too-calm, rather doll like expression.

"...I... wasn't actually that angry." The sea green eyes observed his tall form, as if struggling to perceive the man's more frank emotions. "You... Neplesians just seem to like capitalism... Just figured... a trade of valuable goods would solve the tension. But... thank you?"

Value exchange ritual complete. They could potentially meet the criteria for friends now.

Begrudgingly, she followed him out into the cold, grabbing a hefty emergency ration crate under one arm, and a box of undistributed hull repair kits under the other... Tobias was going to get annoyed about the whole 'standing in an explosive ship' situation.

Carina's message came as their treads hit the snow. Euphoria continued. None of this felt real.

Logic... Distant emotions... Death was occurring. Therefore, a more timely and dynamic plan was in order.

<"Doc... Sarge... Spook... Need some coordination here."> A blunt mix of mindware and standard communicator transmissions, directed back at her as well as Caffran and Tobias once more. <"Broken ship equals available technological parts. No problem to throw together a little scout gravity plating skidder, a quick shelter, a digging machine... Insufficient time to do all three... Ergo, please input the method of action.">