RP: ISC Phoenix [Mission 8] Dawning Concerns

Meanwhile...
somewhere between Abjection (P1-10) and Dawn Station

The Courier 2A Class freighter, The Plow, that made the journey to and from the planet Abjection and Dawn Station was nothing special. No extra armaments, no modifications beyond standard design, nothing. Even the two crew members that ran the rather large ship were much beyond what they seemed.

Geharus, the pilot and mechanic, was a frumpy old man with a sneer who didn't talk to anyone but his coworker, Hector, who happened to be a portly man in his middle ages (he handled the navigation and the cargo transferring).
Both didn't talk much and didn't want to know much and simply wanted to do their jobs. In all, crew and ship were absolutely, unequivocally, standard, inconspicuous, and quiet.
Just as Daxle Demalier liked it.

A young man of 23, Daxle Demalier was traveling the stars, using his medical talent where needed, using his charming personality when wanted, all the while stealing what he wanted because, well, hey, a guys' gotta eat.

Daxle had gotten onboard The Plow when he heard that it was the major transporter of supplies and equipment to Dawn Station, a place on the edges of known space. It was an opportunity to go where few had, and possibly "acquire" some new toy from Origin Industries along the way. Getting on board was easy; all he had to do was smile and ask for transport, and Hector said sure. Sometimes he wished women were like that...

Daxle was lounging in the common area, a place set for the 18 or so people that these Courier 2A ships were designed to accommodate, watching the plasma screen. He was flipping through the channels, his brow furrowing whenever one of those cartoonish Yamatai commercials would be on, or sighing with boredom if he landed on a Neplislian Soap Opera. He was horribly bored; there was nothing to do on the ship.

He had already gone through the contents of the cargo bay and it was only filled with standard supplies for the upkeep and survival of a space station, and gods know that no matter how old Geharus looked, he wasn't going to need medical attention soon, which ruled out one of his favorite things to do. He stood up and put on his jacket, a black leather with the right arm missing and a Red Cross stitched to the front. He was pacing around when Hector came wheezing into the common area.

"Evenin' young man. We should be hitting Dawn Station in about an hour" Hector said in an indifferent tone, passing Daxle altogether on his way to the other side of the common area.

"Where are you goin'?" Daxle asked, very curious. Anything was better than sitting here. Hector turned back, and Daxle could see a slight sign of interest in the man's eye.
"Got a hail from a Journey class shuttle that was heading in our direction. A courier, with an urgent message. Might be some trouble at Dawn that needs warnin' about. We just stopped for a moment to pick it up and we'll be getting on our way," Hector replied, turning and hurrying out the portal. Daxle let out a "Huh," in pleasant surprise and, picking up his pack/traveling medkit, followed Hector out to the cargo section, which had plenty of room to take in the small shuttle.

They both watched the small shuttle land in the cargo bay through a view-screen outside the airlock, and waited for the cargo bay doors to close and the bay itself to repressurize before going in themselves. It was a standard Journey class shuttle, one person to fly and several others to live in during a trip. The hatch to it had opened but nobody had walked out.

"Huh, for a courier with an urgent message, they don't seem too intent on delivering it" Daxle stated, looking at Hector with raised eyebrows. Hector only harrumphed and waddled up the ramp. Daxle waited, when he suddenly heard the sound of the engines of The Plow start up and felt the ship start to move. Daxle had learned that Geharus like to get a running start before kicking in the CDD, even though it was perfectly pointless. 'To each his own' Daxle thought, when he was abruptly startled with Hector calling out his name.

"Daxle, you're a doctor right?" Hector asked frantically as he hobbled down the ramp. He was very panic-stricken and sweaty.
"Of sorts yes. Why?" Daxle asked, but Hector did not respond. He just shook his head and leaned against the side of the shuttle to support himself.
Daxle look incredulously at Hector, then climbed on board the shuttle. His shoulders slumped a little bit, for there in a black Origin uniform, slumped over the piloting console was the courier, very obviously dead.

Some time later...

Hector was in the cockpit with Geharus, calming his nerves by keeping an eye on the navigation charts and assisting in keeping the craft on course. Neither men looked up from the consoles to say anything to other, until Daxle slowly sauntered into the room.

"Well Daxle, you all done?" old man Geharus asked in his gravelly voice, his usual sneer making him look like he might throw up any moment. Daxle sat down on the chair to the weapons station, a seat never sat on before. He didn't answer right away, his mind too troubled by what he had seen.

"Daxle?" Hector asked when Daxle didn't respond. It shook Daxle out of his daze, and he was able to look up at the two old gentlemen.
"Yea...the body, right. Um, well...I can't really say" Daxle managed to say. The two old men looked at each other, giving each other confused looks.

"What...what I mean to say is; I have no idea what that pilot even is. When I went to see how he died, he just turned into some black goo on the table" Daxle told them, not even believing himself. Geharus pushed a few buttons on his console then stood up. A little sign read "Auto-pilot" on a screen.

"Show me. Lets go to the infirmary and you can show me this black goo. Crazy doctor tales I tellz ya" he grumped as Daxle left the cockpit first with Geharus following, and Hector huffing behind. They got out into the central corridor when they heard a lot of metal clanking, a hissing noise, some sparking, and a metallic groan.

"That certainly wasn't good," remarked Hector. The three moved to the common area, and what they saw was a mess. A hole had been burned in the ceiling, and you could see right up into the infirmary. There were many sparking cables hanging from the ships inner-workings that would normally have not been exposed. There was also many smaller holes in the floor, seemingly burned through to the lower decks. Daxle tried to get closer to one of them when Geharus grabbed his shoulder

"Don't get any closer boy. You touch them cables there, especially the electrified end, you'll be lucky if there's 'nuff of you left for another doctor to identify. Not to mention you'd short out the whole electrical grid on the ship and cause us to be dead in space" the old man warned
"Let me check for my tools, see if I can't fix some of this" he grumbled, and hobbled off to a side closet.

"I don't like this," Hector said quietly to Daxle, who was busy examining the burn residue on a not-so-dangerous burn hole.
"Nothing ever happens on this run. Origin pays us to travel only two directions, and nothing has ever damaged the ship before"
"What if it's just normal wear and tear?" Daxle asked, chipping away some metal with his Utili-tool

"Wear and tear wouldn't cause holes in several decks and damage ship systems, right Geharus?...Geharus?" Hector turned around to look at Geharus, who was supposed to be in the closet. Daxle looked up when he didn't hear a response, and both saw that Geharus wasn't there.
"Where did he go?" Daxle asked, standing up. He looked around towards one end of the common area. He heard a muffled yelp and turned around, and Hector was gone too.

"Guys? I kind of need you to fly the ship...hello?" he shouted, pulling out the blade to his trusty Utili-tool. It was quiet, except of course for the obvious sounds of damage from who-knows-what. He looked left, then right, then up, then forward, and saw nothing.

Suddenly he heard a gurgling-growl from behind him and he turned just as something black and solid collided into him. Whatever it was, its own attack was too quick for itself, so though it bowled over Daxle, it kept on careening.

"WHAT TH-...?!" was all Daxle managed to say as he scrambled up before he was bowled over again. He was tussling with something that black and gooey...The dead courier?! It certainly had arms and was definitely trying to pummel him. He brought his right knew up and tried to twist away, and it seemed to work, mostly because Daxle fell into one of the holes in the floor. Before he fell to the next deck he managed to just grab onto the edge, while the thing that was attacking him leapt off. He swung his other arm to the edge and started to slowly pull himself up.

"What the hell is going on?!" he said aloud. As his head reached the top of the edge, he peered through his squinting effort. There, right in front of him, was a black gooey mass, just waiting. Daxle dropped his head back down, and not a moment too soon. The thing careened over him, missing Daxle by a mere inch. Daxle hauled himself up again and turned to look where it went.

The Creature had caught itself in the the dangling cables, being slowly electro-fried. For the first time, Daxle got a good look at it; sharp, gnashing teeth, a black and gooey body, and evil, evil eyes.
"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shi-" Daxle said as he tried to scramble to his feet. The whole ship was rocking and groaning things were falling apart and exploding. Something hit Daxle in the head, and he knew no more...

...Hector didn't know where he was on the ship. He only knew that there was a window for him to look out of. He knew he was dying, because a support beam had gone through his stomach. Hector knew that the entire ship had lost all power. He knew that the ship had dropped out of CDD.

He knew that that the ship was still moving, because Geharus always did a running start before entering CDD, and you leave CDD the same speed you entered. Hector knew the ship was still moving because he could see out the window. Hector knew the ship was still moving because he could see Dawn Station off in the distance through the window, coming closer and closer...

OOC: sorry for any grammar or spelling error. Super tired

BACK AT DAWN STATION...

Uriel and Enzo's prompt responses to having the Angers on their backs proved to be the correct one. The Fatboy's and SEP's output made them leap away and recoil in pain as energy shot through it. As they fell, both of them found an opening to finish them off, and let them have it.

The thick black puddle that was left on the ground this time after the assault was lifeless and still, smouldering from the highly electric weapons. Enzo and Uriel couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at knowing that they'd addressed the problem directly.

However, their smiles were immediately wiped off of their faces by means of Mr. Smith's concussion marble, which had exploded - but it didn't give the Elysian too much to worry about, since it felt like someone with fat legs had kicked him in the shins. This was more likely to confuse him than harm him.

Enzo didn't fare much better, since he had no armouring or head gear to protect him from the sound, but his distance from the blast saved him much headache. His ears rung for a moment with a high frequency before he regained his senses.

As for what was left of the puddle, it was scattered away by the blast.

Melissa, meanwhile, was more than slightly stunned by this behaviour from Mr. Smith, taking it as a hostility towards the crew. She found it prudent to crack her knuckles through her Impulse armour. She then proceeded to give the sales rep a firm slap in the face whilst grabbing him by the collar.

"Warn us next time you pull something like that!" She roared over the Armour's speaker as she followed up with another firm slap to the face, not realising that there was a bigger fish to fry.
Said bigger fish that needed frying jumped just over their heads, and Melissa feared the worst, when SEP fire burst out from the Depot and interrupted its charge.

Melissa blinked for a moment as she made the weight of her rifle useful, bludgeoning the Anger and disrupting it temporarily.
"Thanks mates!" She called out to the OriSec team whilst giving a glare to Mr. Smith.

-

In the office, Naoko's hellstorm of Fatboy fire tore the ceiling to pieces and eventually, splatters of black liquid came seeping out of some of the holes. The sounds were of panicked shrieks and scurrying away into the vents, somewhere in the building.

Naoko wasn't sure where they went, but there was a neat hole in the ceiling she could fit through, or embiggen if she and Zeta put their minds to it.

Enzo came walking shortly after getting the effects of the flashbang got out of his head. He was happy to find that he could hear the drawers and their contents being pulled out and emptied in a mad dash to procure some loot.

In addition to the stationery and useless documents that came tumbling out, Enzo found a few articles of interest, including a recently used communicator, a scheduling ledger for this week, and some jewellery that could fetch a good price.

-

Back at the OriSec handle of things, their combined SEP fire was able to stop the pair of foolhardy Angers heading towards them and leave it as a sizzling black puddle on the ground.
"Target neutralised," One of them said as he made a hand signal, "Keep an eye on it in case it gets back up."

Stromm's inaction lead to the third Anger fleeing into the vents and getting away from sight, and it could've been anywhere by the time Dyna followed it.

BACK AT THE HANGARS...

"Oh, that'll work out fine," John said with a happy smile, "Hopefully we'll be the only ones using it, and we've got someone with the skill to park it proper."
"Sell us the tools we need, and I'll contact someone who knows how to put it together," Sebastian nodded. John tilted at him.
"Lemme guess," He said with a cheeky grin, "The Maids?"

Sebastian gave a sly grin that Anna probably wouldn't have approved of.

Zeta looked at the hole. She was not exactly happy about sounds from the vents. "I suggest we move on through the offices, maybe there is still someone alive and hiding. We can check ventilation shaft later on." Zeta said to Naoko carefully looking around them ready for a surprise attack.

"What are these things?" Robert asked aloud as he adjusted himself to move on to the next room. He gave a small worried glance towards Mr. Smith. "and maybe we should let him go first, Eh?"

The power armored slap hit Smith not once, but twice across the face. He stumbled, and though dazed, he instinctively stood up straight and proper; old reflexes died hard. When it came to business deals, it was often unnerving to the other party when their blows had little effect. Fragments of memories jostled and bounced around in his head, but the angry stare from the faceless helmet was more important at the moment. The Origin Rep sniffed once, and then turned, spitting out a molar accompanied by a gout of red. His glasses were askew, bent and slightly cracked, but there were spares. There always were. He reached a hand up and loosened the tie around his neck and spoke in a voice so low, that only Melissa could hear. "Been years since I last dealt with a Neko. Out of pills too. I guess what you gave was as good as any of them though." he went on, referring to the slaps and medication.

"Sorry about that. I'm not used to working with others. At all. Last time...it did not end well." Smith spoke, still deadly quiet, but just loud enough for the others to hear. The glasses slid down slightly due to the bent frame, but he pushed it back up, one eye visible behind a cracked lens, the other, obscured by glare. "I'm doubling back to the Rec Room. If the creatures were as...playful as the video made them sound, they'll be there."

The Representative strode off and away from the causeway, alone or not, it didn't matter; one of the employees under him was in trouble, and he was going to bring her back. Alive, or in a box.

The Nekovalkyrja kept her eyes on the hole-ridden ceiling, eying with mistrust the blood that seeped through the cracks. Was it going to pool? She didn't know much about the enemy, but one thing that had sank in rather quickly was their regenerative properties. The video had shown her that much, at least.

When it was obvious that the blood posed her no threat, she gradually lowered the SmAR, nesting it atop her shoulder in a more neutral position, barrel-up but with a more relaxed grip. Planting the axe in a nearby desk, Naoko took the time to straighten her hair, running her slender fingers through a long hank as she considered her small group's position. Eventually, she decided to tie her hair back. Since it seemed safe enough, she sat atop the desk, the bandolier around her slender half-naked frame making a muffled clunk, and calmly picked a blue rubber band out of an overturned pencil cup on the other side of her axe. Then she took at least three more, and crossed her legs for decency's sake - the jacket she had borrowed wasn't quite right for the purpose.

"So-yo," she sent over the team's comm channel as she preened, apparently unconcerned, "We should at least find the body."

Zeta couldn't believe what she saw. That Neko started grooming herself. Zeta just shaked her head, raised her rifle and moved on. Somewhere in the offices there is girl. And even if she is no longer alive, at least her body has no need to be eaten alive.

Zeta got angry once again. "Let's see how we fight anger with anger," she muttered and moved on ready to shoot anything black and gooey. And she was looking forward to it.

"Yes, ma'am." grunted Stromm before picking his little superior up by the collar and then resting her perineum on his palm. "For the last time, please refer to me as Ensign Dekomir while on duty, Lieutenant-Commander Shevi."


The massive man revved back for a moment, and then, with intense show of strength, tossed the young-looking girl up towards the walk-way like a weightless baseball. "I will cover you from here!" said Stromm, lifting up his Fatboy, aiming down the Red-Dot sight.

As Dyna landed she could tell that she was a few moments too late, and the little thing had gone further, flashing away into the vents- So she did what any officer would do- maybe. She unloaded her Little killer into the vents at various points, attempting to either hit or flush out her quarry, which she would then neutralize with her SEP.

"Watch the vent holes, it may come out on your head, Stromm-Kun" the Lt. Commander warned, mostly ignoring his request for the moment, though it seemed it was more out of the fact that she was mildly distracted with her work than anything else.

The rest of the teams, however, continued making their way throughout the room, searching high and low for the little angers, trying to flush them towards the Phoenix crew, or at least get them out of their hiding spots. "What the hell are these things?" one of them asked, somewhat bewildered.

******

Aerin cocked her head slightly at the mention of maids, but shrugged it off, mentally putting in an order for a tool set up to make the hangar. "The tools will soon be on their way, once they've been sorted out, packaged up, and organized into the storage necessary for a proper hangar. And remember- There is an atmospheric containment field on the cargo hatch, so you can open it with people inside while in vacuum without endangering anyone."

The CEO grimaced slightly, wondering what was going on, as all the security cameras in the areas under attack seemed to have been taken out. However- she managed to get some good news, the Mishhu had been completely contained and all occupants of that block evacuated, though there seemed to still be a bit of stiff fighting going on- something larger had been bred in the shop, leading to some trouble for the mostly lightly armed OriSec.

******

Dawn Station control noticed something odd flying into the system. A CDD bubble had collapsed just outside of visual range, and the craft, which had been moving toward the station for some time now, was positively identified as a cargo runner, but it seemed to be lifeless, with no power and none of the engines running. A Small number of FTL tugs and Jinkan class Escorts, along with a few fighters, were scrambled to go and take a look at the ship, and see what was wrong with it- hopefully it had not come under mishhu attack and led the abominations to the station- All the current Mishhu threats seemed to have been imported by someone other than the mishhu themselves, so the station would hopefully remain secret from their enemies- If this 'dead' ship hadn't been chased by the mishhu, that is.

As a precaution, the station's defenses were armed and set, and orders to protect the civilians were readied to be handed out the moment something bad might happen.

"Watch the vent holes, it may come out on your head, Stromm-Kun."

Click to expand...

"Aye, Lieutenant-Commander." grunted Stromm with a certain aggravation. He grabbed the second Fatboy-Chubby slung under his arm, and held up both, one in each hand. It looked as if he were dual-wielding a pair of machine-pistols for a man his size. His stark blue-eyes kept and eye on the grates, one of the Fatboy's sights following the focus of his gaze.

"What the hell are these things?"

Click to expand...

"The only intel we have is: "Kill the shit out of them." I'm fine with just that." the giant hmphed.

Daxle woke up floating around in the lounge.
...
...
...
That thought alone seemed to occupy his very thoughts as he slowly roused from his forced unconsciousness. He was floating, hovering, slowly moving around the lounge of the ship. He didn't seem to have the will to move quite yet, so he was content, for the moment, to see whatever happened to come across his vision.

It was incredibly dark; none of the lights were on, and the emergency lights weren't exactly the best in the universe. Everything that wasn't bolted to the floor or wall or ceiling was floating around, bumping into other floating debris and what-have-you.

Beyond all this, the ship was a wreck. It seemed like there was no part of the interior that didn't collapse. Support beams, wiring, conduits, electronics, all of it was floating around or wedged into something else, and there was a remarkably large hole where Daxle supposed the blob thing got fried by the power system.

Power

"oh yea!" Daxle said aloud, his voice echoing in the eerily quiet ship. Now he remembered; the ship was dead, most likely because its main electrical grid was shorted out when it was disrupted by the black-gooey-blob-of-death thing. That would explain why he was floating; the artificial gravity was off. He supposed he should be more worried; the emergency life support may not even be working ('I'm no engineer, I wouldn't know' he thought to himself) which meant that the air inside the ship could go in a matter of hours...or minutes.

Daxle's vision was temporarily blurred by something warm, but strange to the touch. It felt like it really wasn't there; he could feel it, but he couldn't feel it. Daxle panicked and flailed his arms
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" and he flailed and twisted and turned in the zero gravity.
"Wha-wha-...." he incoherently mumbled aloud, his vision mostly returning. He looked wildly about. Was he still under attack by more evil goo? He touched his face and pulled back his hand to get a look.
No, he wasn't under attack, he was just severely bleeding. He sighed with relief, which quickly turned to worry.
"Where's my bag?" he asked out loud to nobody. He looked left, then right, then down, then up, then behind. He couldn't find his medical bag, and he couldn't remember taking it off. He suddenly felt very sleepy.
"Should...stay awake" he told himself as his eyelids drooped. He noticed his was bleeding a little bit elsewhere, like on his left leg, and on his chest.
'I'm sure it'll be fine...just need a nap...so tired...' he thought one last time before slipping back into unconciousness

It was obvious that Enzo was the thief on the crew as he snatched each valuable item and brought the schedule to his face for review. His eyes wandered across the paper, searching for any valuable info on the schedule sheet. He continued to ignore Naoko and Zeta in favor for more valuables in the office and surrounding rooms.

His wits were, dulled by his search, but his trigger finger remained razor sharp in case of any more fun ahead.

Naoko slipped the last rubber band around the very end of the final bulk of her hair, finishing off the long ponytail in a way that was more practical than asthetic, but still visually pleasing - or at least, so she hoped.

Settling the SmAR on her shoulder, again, she glanced around the room and then back up to the Hole. Regaining her feet, she came to stand under it, staring straight up, considering whether or not to enter it.

"Eyes open," she reiterated over the group's comm. This time, she restricted the words to just Enzo and Zeta. "We'll continue to the rest of the offices."

Prying her attention away from the ventilation, Naoko jerked the axe from the desk she had stuck it in, tossed the plait of hair over her shoulder, and made her way over towards the next rooms.

Satisfied now, the Elysian pressed forward to the causeway, weapon at the ready and eyes alert. Lacking points of interest, assailants or impediments, he would proceed to the assembly. "Melissa, Robert, Smith: with me, if you would. We'll regroup with the others at the assembly." This was said over the entire team's channel, so that those in the offices could also hear.

Robert nodded to Uriel. "Gotcha." he said over the comm. "I love this PA. It's amazing." he annouced to nobody in particular.

BACK AT THE BIG BIRD...

A Radio had been put next to Arin to keep her some semblance of Company whilst Jim was mixing concoctions to speed up the recovery. What was left of Arin's strength at this point was able to make her adjust the radio and look for frequencies on Origin's stations. She eventually tuned into the Salvage line.

For an hour or so, she waited and waited, listening to doldrumous things such as simple breakdowns and towing, to construction and deconstruction, but then a bolt from the blue made her go wide eyed.
"...deactivated ship drifting towards Dawn Station, power is off, and all attempts to communicate have been non responsive. Requesting Salvage team to meet at Sector Six at Dock 12... ...last call, I repeat, last call for a salvage crew..."

She immediately begun to feel her strength return to her as she felt the call of duty cry out to her soul. Not just to get her hands dirty in a brand new opportunity, but to show Origin Industries how Salvage is done, NAM style. She reached for her ever sturdy toolbelt, and realised it was out of her reach. So she stood up out of bed and managed to get it - which was quite a feat for someone with severe radiation poisoning.

At that moment, Jim came walking in with a viscous fluid in a vial in his hands, mixed from an amalgam of anti-radiation meds, white blood cell promoters, cancer nullifiers, and a dose of wallpaper paste for good measure.
"Alright, I'll just need you to-" He was looking at a clip board, then looked up at Arin, "Sit back, and ... uh," He blinked in surprise, "You aren't thinking of going anywhere, are you?" He asked squeamishly.

He'd then proceed to have the concoction snatched from his hands and swigged in one fluid motion by Arin, and pushed aside. It was evident that Arin was on a mission.
Jim was in shock, "Speedy recovery," He said as he looked at his charts again, noting that she was getting better, but he didn't expect her to recover this soon.

BACK AT THE FACTORY...

Enzo thumbed through the ledgers and took a look at the more recent entries in the books, and noticed a name that'd sound familiar. Ms. Marsden. She'd apparently taken a tour of the factory with her significant other, and showed interest, especially at the testing range.

He then started to wonder what sort of things might be lootable there at the testing range, since after searching a few offices, he only came up with family photos, pocket change totalling to about 30 KS, and a room with too many pictures of cats, and too many bloodstains on the cats.

-

The others, meanwhile, were sharing a similar goal of finding someone, or at least what was left of them.

Smith, Melissa, Robert and Uriel could hear the sound of kinetic gunfire coming from the testing area, past packaging and the assembly area where OriSec was currently holding out. This was punctuated by a frenzied yell for the "BASTARDS TO FUCKIN' DIE!"

"Heh, looks like someone's alive, and kickin'," Melissa chuckled as she watched Dyna and Stromm fire into the ceiling.
Stromm watched Dyna shoot holes in the vents, and her last shot hit the proverbial jackpot, with one well placed hole leading to a screech, and a much larger hole being punched by the Anger.

It dove towards Dyna with its many rows upon rows of teeth glinting in the light, but Stromm could intercept it with ease.

-

Things on Naoko's end were different as she prowled through the offices with Zeta in tow, finding the lifeless bodies of Origin workers, but no body alive, until she got to the Rec Room where a makeshift barricade had been torn down. On the other side of the barricade was a broken door, some overturned tables and two long black stains.

Someone was in there with a pulse. She poked her head up, her face bloodied and holding out with a SEP and a spare battery. She sighed a sigh of relief upon seeing something that wasn't going to try and tear her face off.

"Thank goodness you're here, are there any other surviv-"
SCRRRYYYYYYYYY!!!

Her face immediately went pale as she ducked back behind cover and shook so much that the table rattled. That scream could be heard throughout the entire facility and it shook and reverberated.

-

"What, the, fuck, was, that?" Melissa asked, further away as she looked about herself with a frown.

"It's exactly what we're looking for." Mr. Smith spoke, his composure relatively regained. Though he was irked that the Neko had gotten to the Rec room first, what was he to expect? He'd let his emotions get the better of him, and, obviously, it meant he wasn't going to get anything done right for a while. The thought sent him on edge, heart thudding away once more.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

Again, Naoko flattened her ears - although, this time, she couldn't completely dampen the sound. There had been no warning, and it scratched across her nerves like a nail across a classroom chalkboard. When the sound died off, she searched for the origin of the sound, pointy ear oscilating alertly, but there didn't seem to be anything other than the scream to go by, and there were enough things that the sound could have bounced off of, she probably wouldn't get a good fix.

Turning around to view the door, with the barricade and the beseiged woman behind her, Naoko checked the indicator on her SmAR's battery. It wasn't empty, but after shooting the ceiling full of holes, it was low enough that she erred on the side of caution and switched it out with a new battery from her bandolier.

As she snapped it into place and re-hefted the murderous, black durandium axe, she said, "No. There are probably no other survivors. Ometedoo - on being alive, I mean."

"Now, what made that noise?"

Robert shrugged towards Mr. Smith as he followed the sounds of gun fire into the next room, taking careful stock of everything in the room before fully entering. He checked his own battery on the Fatboy and saw it was still well charged. After taking a final glance around, he waved for the others to follow.

Ah, military men, or at least of a similar sort: Uriel could deal with this kind of winged folk with greater ease than the average civilian. He strode toward the nearest, maintaining cover as best he could while doing so. Other than wincing, the Elysian ignored the screech. That question would eventually answer itself, he imagined.

"Officer, report. Support is here, and with heavy armaments." He shrugged in the armor to emphasize his point.