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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 2] Little Problems

Tweak and Ozz seemed to have finally found the right idea. Despite much thrashing and wiggling on the Muck Shambler's part, enough force applied to holding the joints of its legs in place resulted in very desirable effects. Similar to the ease of holding a crocodiles mouth shut combined with the vice-grip of the clamping-down maw, the Shambler's limbs seemed to have weaker muscles in the aft areas.

The Muck Shambler tried a few more attempts, its murky, smoky roar bellowing loudly, before settling down, its body heaving in deep, concentrated breaths as it settled from its stampeding rage.

---

Meanwhile, up above, Abeck turned and gave his Elite squad a few looks, undoubtedly uncertain about whether or not this strange sub-captain was on the up-and-up.

"Administrator Popjoy," Abeck said again, grainy voice blaring at the suddenly startled volumetric image. "Is this true? What does your surveillance say on the tunnels?"

Purina looked terrified for a moment as her eyes moved away from the screen, staring at something off to the side. The pink-haired scientist, however, suddenly smiled widely and nodded shortly. "They have the creature calmed and in submission. It appears all it needed was to be quelled out of its fright from the Vogel jump...transporting it back safely to my labs should nary be a problem!" Purina exclaimed with great joy.

Abeck hesitated for a moment, then started making nodding motions, small and sporadic. He was talking to his men through their radios.

"Okay," Abeck said after a short while. "Squad, get in there and check it out. Keep your weapons armed. And as for you three..." Abeck pointed an armored finger at Dream, Lucius and Serra. "...you need to get your squadmates out of there so we can do our work."
 
Keziah nodded, and slowly eased herself up, propping her back against the wall of the pipe. Only then did she notice that her visor had been splattered with brown and green muck. She almost wiped at it, when she saw her gauntlet looked the same.

Disgusting.

She snapped her visor open, and was instantly overwhelmed by the stench. Her entire body threatened to heave up whatever it was in her stomach, but she fought it down, breathing slowly, shallowly, until she could handle the sewage. "'kay," she said, and pulled Cyril's sleeve into her mouth, bunching it up and biting on it completely. "Mm re'dy."
 
Cyril winced in in sympathy as Keziah shuddered at the stench surrounding them. But still, a noseful of sewer stench was better then biting through your tongue any day.

Still, better to get this done quickly, if for no other reason then to let her get her visor closed that much faster. Grabbing her shoulder above the joint with his hand, he wrapped his tail around her upper arm. Making sure that he head a good grip, he snapped the arm back into the socket.

"Right, we'll 'ave to get Dream to take look at this, but it's back in place." The bellows from up the pipe seemed to wind down. He hadn't heard anything over the radio, but he was willing to bet that they had restrained the damned shambler. Cyril offered her his hand.

"Come on, we'll get you back to the fresh air."
 
Her teeth dug deeply into the soft, squishy material of the undersuit. It felt like chewing on intestines--she remembered once having to gut some creature hunters had brought in--and bile surged up her throat at the thought. Which just made her clamp down harder, even as she tasted acid on the back of her tongue.

But then Cyril drove her arm back into its socket, and she screamed into the sleeve, tears blurring her vision. Then the pain was over, and she breathed heavily, her uninjured arm now reaching over to her shoulder. The pain was there now, a flare that burned in her shoulder. She sniffed, and wiped at her eyes, her jaw finally relaxing so the sleeve could fall out.

Her gauntlet smelled like sewage, and when she realized what she was doing she whipped it away. The cotton in her brain was gone for the moment, purged by the pain, and she nodded at Cyril, taking his hand and pulling herself to her feet. "That's the best idea I've ever heard." She managed a weak smile before snapping her visor shut again.
 
Dream nodded joyously. "Yeah, they're already on their way out. Ah, by the way, you'd better call a huge hauling droid of some kind to bring the beast back to Pop's zoo."

Code:
The squad's coming down to take your place. Wonderful work everyone. You rocked the house. Get back here so I can give you all a check-up.

She also transmitted a message to Flower. What was his operational condition? Could he make its way back to the armory on his own?
 
Cyril helped Keziah to her feet. He considered offering her his shoulder, but quickly decided not to embarrass her by doing so. It was only a dislocated shoulder, after all.

That didn't stop him from sticking close to her as they made their way back to the armory. Even if the blow to the head apparently didn't cause a concussion, he wasn't going to let her fall and dislocate her shoulder again if they were wrong.

On the plus side, they were apparently mission complete. The Elites, whoever the fuck those guys were, were apparently going to swoop in and take over. Likely take all the credit too. But job done was job done. 'sides, word would get out about who really did the work.

"Wonderful. Maybe some'un else can crawl round in shit fer a change. Better get some 'oses ready, we got a li'tle messy." He radioed to Dream.
 
Tweak took a moment after wrapping up the second leg to measure the remaining cable. She wasn't going to have enough line if she tried connecting them all together. So she tied off the line at the second leg and severed it with a quick snap of her teeth (her back was to Ozz while she did this...with the two scorched holes in her uniform, revealing a pair of horizontal lines at the edge of her shoulder blades), then hopped over the main bulk of the body while tying a new loop in the line to connect it to the end of the leg Ozz was holding.

"Thanks," she said to him with a smile through her visor. She fastened the line to the leg and then wrapped it a couple times. Noticing the creature calming, she glanced over at the last leg and then at Ozz.

"Are you okay? I think I can take the last leg if you need checked out," she said, noting his biometrics on her visor. A couple of alerts, one at a higher level than the other, blinked over Kez's and Cyril's status indicators. Minor injuries...but then she noticed that her own biometric indicator was...well, it was sort of odd. Blinking an overheat warning, while the voice in her head, the one that usually told her about danger, wasn't saying anything. Instead, it was busy measuring the strength and noting where the cables had been weakened in the first attempt at stopping the Shambler.

Without waiting for Ozz's answer because she was distracted by the biometrics monitor, Tweak hopped over with the last section of line and tied up the final leg, managing to tighten it close enough to the third leg that she had more than enough line left. The neko quirked an eyebrow when she brought up her full physical status record for the mission. No injuries and four reported breeches of her suit (two sealed), those she was aware of. But it also showed an abnormally high body temperature -- several degrees over one hundred Fahrenheit -- throughout the mission. In fact...now that she thought about it, the warning had been going off ever since she put on the suit. She didn't feel like she was overheated...so it must be a faulty sensor, she decided, and finished the leg in a matter of seconds since the Shambler had stopped struggling.

"Need a hand getting down?" she called back at Ozz as she hopped back to where he was. Even down, the creature wasn't exactly a short drop.

Tweak to Dream said:
Mission complete. The Shambler's limbs are all secured and it's acting a lot calmer now. We've got a few injured, all by the thing sliding down the tube like it did... [glances down from the Shambler and sees Cyril and Kez making their way back] ...everyone's heading back to the hatch. I can stay with the Shambler if needed, though. Cyril is in good enough shape to help anyone back.
 
Ozz used everything he had to keep that leg down. Now, that it calmed....he had nothing left. With a deep breath, he realized Tweak's back was facing him. He coughed briefly and noticed the scorched holes on Tweak's uniform.

He briefly wiped the continuous seeping blood from his mouth and responded, "You're welcome, but honestly.....I didn't do much, but get beat up." He finished with a strained but sincere smile.

"Anyway, to be honest I'm pretty beat up. If you think you got it here, I'm going to let you have it. Also, if you could radio the squad and let them know I'm coming in, I've seem to have lost my helmet." he added.

Ozz nodded finally to Tweak and shuffled on his arse towards the downward slope of the Shambler's rotund body. He carefully inched his way towards the edge, being careful not to drop suddenly.

"I think I can manage getting down." he said as he smiled at Tweak.

As soon as he finished those words, his injuries caused him to lose balance and he toppled off the Shambler. While the height was high, a welcoming pile of sewage awaited him, softening the impact against the ground, face first of course.

With a grumble and a grimace, Ozz braced his ribs and shoulder awkwardly and pulled himself up. He made the walk back to the hatch in silence. He was helpful, but he was beat up. Tweak barely had a scratch on her. What -was- she made of? He hoped the rest of the squad was all right, especially Keziah and Cyril. Either way, being lost in his thoughts brought him back to the hole where he struggled to climb through.

With a final large exertion of energy, Ozz popped back into the armory and collapsed on the floor. He fell with a grunt and looked at his squad members and the CSS Elite.

With a smirk he simply said, "With a few personal touches, someone could live quite comfortably down there."

His wit was closely followed with a grimace.
 
Code:
There... are some hoses, but they're used to pump industrial-grade cleaning chemicals. I wouldn't use them anywhere near carbon-based lifeforms. Better just get all up here and get a good old shower. A long one.

"Oh, welcome back Ozz." She beamed as he climbed his way out of the hatch. "Great work down there! Are you alright? Anything hurts? Anything you need?" She asked.
 
TBonDc said:
"I think I can manage getting down." he said as he smiled at Tweak.
Tweak started to nod until Ozz toppled off of the Shambler...she dropped down next to him to see if he was alright, but he got up and managed to make it back to the armory. So she followed, since Dream had told her to return, giving the Shambler a small pat on the side before leaving it for the Elites to retrieve.

She lagged behind the group, half out of programming/training (the least damaged soldier should watch the group's back) and half because she wanted to do some repairs on the other holes in her uniform. Hemosynthing thread was much easier than metal, even though it took a while to figure out exactly what kind of thread and weave had been used. But she sealed up the exhaust holes quick enough and looked at the rest of her squad.

They were all pretty beaten up. Tweak realized that, by jumping onto the Shambler, she had avoided mucking through the muck and chasing, then being chased, by the creature, as well as the impact damage that made up the rest of the squad's injuries from when Flower had finally brought the Shambler down. She was the only clean one in the group, aside from splashes and the sewage they were walking through right then.

Tweak to Dream said:
What about Flower? Is he able to make it back himself?
She offered to give a step-up to help her teammates reach the hanging bottom of the mangled catwalk under the access ladder that lead to the hatch. Ozz passed the offer up, which admittedly surprised Tweak given the extent of his injuries. But he made it. She looked over at Cyril and Keziah.
 
Ozz sprawled onto some upon floor aware but uncaring of the CSS Elite squad that stood nearby. For the first time, in what seemed forever, he was able to take a breath. In fact, each glorious breath was short, shallow and accompanied by pain in his chest. Even in the moment he could take his mind of his possibly broken ribs, he felt the pain in his shoulder. Admittedly, it was usable until he slammed it back into the socket, but field medicine wasn't his expertise and he probably just made it worse.

After a moment, he responded to Dream, "I think I have some broken ribs, several deep bruises and I dislocated my left shoulder. I should want some medical attention, but I'll settle for that drink you promised me."
 
Embarrassed or not, Cyril was simply too short to act as a crutch. At least, one that she could lean into and put all her weight on. But the idea wasn't exactly appealing. Ozz could've fit the role quite well, if his biometrics on her HUD weren't flashing injuries over his miniature representation. So instead she settled for gripping Cyril's shoulder with her good arm--synthmuscles disabled, of course--and keeping steady like that.

The headache was beginning to return, dragging her brain into a sluggish lethargy, and by the time they reached the ladder back to the armory it was getting difficult to stay focused. Her body felt like rubber, and the fact that she hadn't tripped at all in the walk was mostly due to her robotic legs, acting perfectly where she couldn't. "Thanks," she whispered to Cyril, finally detaching from him and standing under the ladder.

It was too high. And Cyril--

Keziah hadn't noticed Tweak. Only then did she, startled a little by the cleanliness of her suit. But that wasn't really surprising. The 'Spacer looked perfectly fine, like Cyril. Maybe there was something magical about being short.

Unlike Ozz, Keziah took her offer, gladly stepping up to the 'Spacer and murmuring a "Thank you" before being hoisted up to the ladder. Her conscious mind was going a little nuts; the 'Spacer was tiny, and she hadn't looked like she had any enhancements. But she gave Keziah a footing as firm and strong as what she'd get from a power armor.

But she shook it off, and started to climb, gingerly using her injured arm as she climbed all the way up out of the hole and into the armory. Ozz was on the floor, but that didn't bother her. She walked around him, not seeing the Elites, and stood before Dream, saluting. "Sir," she said, with the last of her flagging strength, before unsealing her helmet and walking off to an unoccupied section of wall, to sit and rest in clean air.
 
"Uh? Who's the sir?" Asked Dream, not quite understanding the meaning of the word Kaz used. She was busy helping Ozz out of his incredibly filthy armor.
She was getting herself and her own incredibly colorful clothes dirty in the process, but she didn't seem to mind at all.

"First things first." She smiled at him, reaching inside her seemingly endless sleeves and pulling out of them a large, old-fashioned hypodermic syringe. "I'll give you some painkillers. You're gonna feel funny for a while... don't worry, it's normal."

With the fluid movements of an expert nurse, she thrust the needle into Ozz's carotid artery and pulled out half a syringe of his blood. Then, she produced a small glass vial full of some kind of thick, neon-green liquid, and aspired a drop of it in the syringe.
She shook it a bit in order to mix well together the blood and whatever drug that green stuff was supposed to be, then skillfully stabbed Ozz's chest with a deft motion, between the ribs, injecting his blood straight into the heart.
The whole process took less than ten seconds: Dream's motions were easy and carefree, almost as if she had rehearsed the whole act thousands of times.

"Be careful now, for a while you'll have no sense of touch. You won't feel any pain, either. Your body won't be able to warn you if you're getting hurt, so don't do anything even remotely dangerous until you regain full control of your sense of touch." She explained, pinching him hard near the shoulder as a demonstration.
"I see you've already snapped your dislocated shoulder back into place." She added, staring at him for a couple of seconds. "Mhh. You've got an incomplete transverse fracture on the third left rib, and a complete transverse on the fourth left. Nothing too serious, I'll take care of them later, or leave you to the station's medical staff." She smiled, apparently formulating a complete diagnosis just by looking at him.

"What about you?" She asked to Keziah with a smile on her now dirty face. "You alright?"
 
Ozz just blinked as Dream and her small stature perrty much man-handled him out of his armor and stabbed him twice with a needle. Nonetheless, he listened and was a bit amazed when he didn't feel Dream's pinch. He managed to get out a warm "Thank You!" to Dream before she moved on to her next area of concentration.

Next, Ozz stowed his smaller armor plates into the large chest plate as they were designed. They were dirty, but at least they were easier to carry. Then he sat next to Keziah and gave her an easy nod. He was glad she came through all right.

While Dream and Keziah conversed, Ozz measured up the CSS Elites. They stood there, the shining pinnacle of military decorum. They had the same weapons but some better suits. He wondered if better versions of his suit existed, if there were better versions of other things around here.....only Montreal didn't want us to have.
 
"A concussion," she murmured, looking up at Dream, "and a dislocated shoulder, sir. Cyril fixed the shoulder down there." She pulled her gauntlets off and set them down, still dripping muck, on the deck. "I'll be fine."

Her limited knowledge of first aid was kicking in, slowly. The concussion felt typical, clearly not the first one she's ever had, and her shoulder felt heavy, swollen. Still, she wouldn't have kept Dream from inspecting her further.

She glanced over at Ozz and gave him a small smile when he sat down. Very badly she wanted a drink, and a cigarette, then maybe a nice dinner followed by lots of sleep. She pressed her head back against the bulkhead, ignoring the pulsing as she tried to feel the coolness of the metal.
 
Dream cast a short glance to Kaz.
"Well, he did a fine job, your shoulder looks like new." She beamed. "As for the concussion, the best cure is some rest and relax. Good job everyone, you deserved a taste of Sith's Booze, as soon as I can get my hands on some!"

She stood back up, brushing her dress (which only made the situation worse, obviously). "Gotta hit the showers." she commented, noticing the situation.
 
The CSS Elite appeared at the mouth of the elevated, broken catwalks, and stood there for a moment. One of them brought up an extending ladder, which they attached to the end of the catwalk to allow both themselves and Squad 35 to enter and exit. Other than that, the CSS Elite members completely ignored the others.

A few of them spread out around the areas while the main contingent of them approached the Muck Shambler. A few of them investigated Flower, but mostly left it alone as well. They nodded to each other, poked and prodded it a little, and checked the lines to ensure a good hold while conversing silently amongst themselves. Obviously, they didn't converse to 'outsiders' often unless necessary.

---

Abeck, whom remained above, held a hand close to his ear as he listened in on the entire conversations happening in the pipeway. After a little, he nodded, and reached under his helmet, unfastening the devices holding it into place before finally pulling it off of his head.

The helmet hid a dashing young man, short blond hair and blue eyes, with a slightly squaring jaw and a warm smile. Abeck, his face revealed, grinned widely and sincerely to the group.

"Well, nice job guys! Did everyone a big favor taking this big fella down! And didn't even have to kill it...good on ya," He said as he shot them a thumbs up. "Don't worry, I'll have my boys bring the big girl back home."

"And I would like to thank you all as well," Purina added, entering a state of serenity at the safety of her scientific subject. "I would like you all to come meet me in the administrative office on the Biological facility at your earliest convenience. I'll clear the assignment is the Head Administrator. Do you think this is possible, captain?" Purina smiled as she questioned Lucius and Dream.
 
Lucius had been biting his thumb slightly as the squad had gone through with their mission. They all seemed to do well enough, a little chatty on some ends, but the squad got the job done and well too. After all, they got the.... thing in one piece.

He was sure, however, that Cassefin was going to draw some sort of negative about their performance. He hoped he was wrong, however.

"Good job." He said through the suit's comm system. He sounded a little pleased, but quite short about it.

He turned and looked at Purina. "Absolutely. We'll make our way over there once the team gets cleaned up."
 
On her part, Dream nodded. "Yup, sure. Just give us some time." She said, waving at the volumetric display while waltzing out of the armory.
 
Cyril took to being used as a cane cheerfully. It was halfway his fault that she had gotten banged up like that anyway, so if she needed a cane then a cane she got. It also neatly illustrated the other reason that offering a shoulder for support wasn't a good idea, to wit the fact that he barely came up to her shoulders.

He had never really thought about it before, but this morning had illustrated that his diminutive stature was something of a liability in gravity. Without Kaz's help he would have been a pancake on the bottom of the sewer right now. And that had lead more or less directly to her current injury. It was a... somewhat sobering thought, and one that he would need to examine further once he got Kaz back topside.

The broken catwalk would have been a problem if it weren't for Tweak. He probably could have given Keziah a boost, if he had both arms. With out his cybernetic, or Tweak's presence it would have been an interesting adventure getting Kaz up. Or, he reflected as he took Tweak's offered assistance, himself for that matter. Tossing the short
'spacer a casual 'Thank You' salute, he scrambled up the latter and into the relatively fresh air of the empty armory, cracking his helmet with a splorch of .

Dripping a trail of raw sewage, he sat down near the shelf with his arm, catching his breath as Dream gave their wounded a once over. It seemed that Ozzy got the worst of it, though he honestly wasn't surprised. The way he had leap onto the shambler like that was just asking for it in Cyril's humble opinion. But it had apparently gotten the job done for all that.

He was gratified to hear that he had actually managed to not screw up setting Kaz's arm. He hadn't really trusted his first aid knowledge to handle it. But all was for the best in the end. It was nice to know that he hadn't been a complete liability down there.
 
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