Futuristic The Relentless: Journey to Old Earth (Chapter Three)

[_gallifrog_]

Linwood shifted herself into a better position in the cockpit, one that would allow her to brace better for the incoming debris induced shocks. Her new shoes were chafing the back of her feet and she guessed there'd be blisters or some kind of cuts later. Wearing prison-issue shoes for years had meant she'd lost the tough skin on the back of her ankles and lower calf. She nodded at the droid's assessment of the ship in front of her. "It's just M. Linwood, no need for formalities." She told the droid, before adding her next input. "And I agree on that, partially. It's good kit, very efficient when put on the right ship and in the right place. But that one in front of us? It ain't the right ship. Clearly somebody was told to beef it up, though for what reason I couldn't possibly say. Looks like they're trying to give it every function possible with less emphasis on functionality." The fact that it was all so cloak and dagger was irritating Linwood, the fact that they weren't even allowed to ask questions even more so. But it had got her out of jail and given her a fighting chance at an actual life.

The comment of the other man made her smirk ever so slightly. She had indeed 'brought enough to share with the class'. She might even have bought too many for one person to consume. There was no time for a proper meal after being dragged out of prison, so she'd took it upon herself to use Belmore's money to buy food. Prison food was okay(ish), bland and containing just enough nutrients to get through the day, so the protein bar (as bad as it may be to somebody else) was a welcome change to her. "More than enough, given how fast this whole thing was assembled, I doubted anybody would consider food an important thing. What flavour do you want?" She reached into one of the side pockets on the utility belt and pulled out three bars.

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

"Rodger that, Baxter. I will send out a request beacon at once. Make sure to be seated as we dock. Safety." It looked out to the starry void and blinked.
It nodded to Linwoods request, making a high pitched sound. "Yes ma'am! Make sure to remember. Also, eat while you can as we are approaching a clearing in the field. It will only be smooth cruisin' from here!" It said with a astonishingly real optimism. There is less bass and clicking behind its words, a more rounded soft synthetic echo carrying his speech. The sound of debris raining against the ship began to dull then silenced. It prepared a beacon to warn the Relentless of their oncoming approach.

Beacon Message: "Good evening, Relentless. The Rescue Party V-011, approaching quickly. We request docking with your ship, to establish a tunnel link so we may enter."

The ship began its decent over the asteroid, slowing down to a hault to wait for a response. Tin-Tin stood up and walked to the door, sliding it back. It hunched over, the floating plates sideways to follow. As he got to the other two, the plates flipped wide side out, hanging low like wings. They shimmered in the dim shiplight. Its eyes rotated, looking to Linwood then Baxter without turning its head. "Once we get permission, the ship will move towards the Relentless on its own and dock. Once that happens, we will enter and do our jobs accordingly." Its head tilted to the side with a slight clunk. The blades swaying with it. The twin tails twitching gently to the side before waving like wild snakes. The lights on the thick tubes that line his waist and back pulses a bright red. He believes that this mission is relatively easy and a good chance to collect rock samples. How fun, he thought to himself. Other could always tell he was thinking, as his eyes moves in strange patterns. Darting left then right before amassing into a red circle, returning to the tri-dots.

 

[Equusheart]

"The relief is approximately six hours out. Get comfortable."

Like there was much else they could do. Kyra didn't like the idea of sitting here on this rock waiting for whatever else to happen, but she guessed they didn't really have a choice at the moment. Kyra had kept the good engine on enough to keep the electrical and life supports going, but not much else. They were stuck for the moment, so it was best to sit tight and get comfortable as John had put it.

Mostly out a restlessness that had been flowing through her since she'd brought the ship down, Kyra pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. Needing to walk or do something, Kyra found herself leaving the conference room and heading towards the mess hall.

Though John had praised her for landing the ship without anymore serious injury, Kyra couldn't help but feel that it was her fault. Why hadn't she noticed a breach on the ship. Giving a sighing curse under her breath, Kyra opened the door to the fridge, but just stood there staring at it. Her mind elsewhere.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

There wasn't much else that could be said and no questions were fortcoming. The majority of the crew seemed to be taking the latest development in their stride, mixed with a relief that they had survived the sabotage effort.

The woman was secured in an empty room with Myn and Talia checking on her frequently. She would be going back with the rescue crew. What happened to her after that was a decision for Belmore and the mission backers. John didn't imagine a particularly pleasant fate for the saboteur.

Leaving the conference room, John drifted to the mess and found Kyra standing by one of the fridges. The pilot seemed lost in her thoughts. John placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You alright?"

 

[Equusheart]

Kyra stared blankly at the contents of the fridge, half lost in her thoughts and half trying to remember exactly why she'd come here in the first place. After a moment, Kyra gave a shake of her head as she closed the fridge door again. Having not heard John enter the mess hall behind her, Kyra jumped slightly when she felt his hand on her shoulder. When she realized it was him Kyra sighed and tried to give him a smile.

"Oh, yeah I'm fine," she said in reply. "I guess I'm still keyed up from everything that's been happening."

Kyra glanced towards the door as a beeping coming from the cockpit indicated an incoming message.

"I'm guessing that's for us."

 

[Bronco]

Back with the rescue party, Baxter was contemplating Lindwood's offer. He cocked and intrigued brow, "If you've got Araxan sun fruit (a flavor), I'm about to be your best friend -no offense Ts," he quickly added an apology to his robotic compatriot. Clearly the statement was just another jest, though an observant onlooker might have detected more genuine undertones. After all, it had been a long time since the ex-EDS specialist had even seen his home planet. An entire military career, plus some, would make anyway a bit homesick.

Brushing passed that fact, Baxter moved aside in the door for Tin-Tin to pass deeper into the ship. After hearing the run down provided by the bot he also took notice of his friends display of excitement with a bit of a chuckle. "Easy buddy. Odds are we'll have our hands full enough patching that Angincourt back together," he then realized that both him and the bot weren't exactly employed as engineers. "And by that I mean Lindwood will have her hands full while I raid the ship's galley."

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

It made low chirpy sounds, its head hanging low. The lights that line his body turned into a involuntary bright pink. Two of the floating plates rose above his head and hit the roof of the ship in a crack. It looked around and lowered the blades quickly, straightening its posture in a effort to hide its embarrassment, his lights turning back to red. "Hha..Friends." After all this time, it still couldn't comprehend the title, it sending him through rounds of strange solace. It looked to Baxter and tilted its head to the left at his comment. "By galley, do you mean fridge? Always, you have a incredible ability to eat practically everything. I could coat confectioneries on Styrofoam and you would, as patterns suggest, consume it." It teased as its arms crossed, fingers tapping the synthetic muscle bands with rhythm while thinking. He shuffled in place, deciding to sit across from Linwood. The seat creaked under him from his weight. He looked down at it and moved to make it creak again. He brought his legs up onto the bench and hugged his knees to his chest to rest his head on. His twin tails hung off the edge of the seat, swaying at the ends. It would be strange. A machine that sits and rests as if it needs it. It hummed a deep warble, a song older than he is in a language of frequencies. Music. "Ms. Linwood. If i may inquire, what is the story behind your incarceration? I was only given vague details of the people i was working with. I knew Baxter beforehand, selling weapons and paintings. He didn't buy the paintings but it was part of my business. We formed a unseemly bond, mostly with me driving him home after bar runs and conversation before sales." It said while in recollection, looking up to the metal ceiling. With such fond memories, its posture seemed to rela with his shoulders lowering and hands dropping to its ankles while still hugging his legs. The metal bands on his wrist scrapped against the polymer plating on his shins. On closer inspection, you would see worn floral engravings as well as some moss tucked away at the seems of the plates that is attached to his flesh.

 

[Bronco]

"Well, some of the bar runs," Baxter attempted to save face as he leaned on the door frame. He looked out one of the many cockpit windows before mumbling a more accurate correction, "Half."

Clearing his throat he adjusted his stance and pressed on with the conversation. "But uh yeah, enough 'bout Ts and I, what landed you in the slammer?" The question was more to make conversation than anything else, as Baxter had served with plenty of ex-convicts in the earlier parts of his career. Still, there was a slight need to know their engineer's past transgressions. It'd serve to shut up the fraction of his mind that spouted distrust, something he couldn't understand considering that she'd literally offered protein bars. Clearly, it wasn't hard to win over Baxter.

 

[_gallifrog_]

The request was odsly specific, but Linwood wasn't about to complain, she scanned the flavours in her hand, then moved to the backpack (which may or may not be filled almost entirely with food). A victorious smirk emerged on her face when she found the requested flavour. "Yep, I got one. Here, catch." She tossed the bar to Baxter, an easy to catch throw. The listened to the banter between him and the droid, they evidently already knew each other judging by their familiarity with one another and the fact that both had arrived together. She seated herself in one of the cockpit seats, drawing one leg up, and resting her crossed arms on her knee. "I'm pretty sure I've already got my hands full already, they've got severe engine problems according to my briefing, but I bet there's something else there demanding fixing or replacing. But yes, the less mess made landing, the better." She gave an easy smile as she bit of another chunk of her bar.

Linwood watched the droid as he sat and as he moved, clearly there was far more to him than met the eye. He wasn't just a classic droid, judging by the wear, tear and minor damages on his body, he'd seen some violence and altercations in his time. She listened as he spoke, giving background on how he and Baxter knew each other the latter selling things illegally and the former giving him some kind of business. A smirk forming at the talk of bar runs (another thing she'd dearly missed while being in prison) and Baxter trying to save some kind of face, but really just digging himself into a deeper hole.

When the conversation turned to her prison stint or as the droid called it 'her incarceration' (a formal term that irked her ever so slightly) she resisted to the urge to sigh. Linwood had expected the conversation to turn to that at some point, she was still wearing most of her prison gear and had a pair of handcuffs attached to the belt after all. It was inevitable after all, they wanted to suss her out, see if she could be trusted. So she told them the truth, what was there to lose on this all. "It's a complicated story and I'm not going to deny that I'm guilty of a lot of things, though not necessarily what I was charged for. When I was younger I did work for various gangs. Mostly stealing and stripping ships, selling parts on the black market, doing over stolen vehicles, y'know that sort of thing, stuff that put my skills as an engineer to use. And when things got tough, I'd do some illegal fighting on the side. I needed the money, and the gangs paid better than my actual job. Shit happened that left me the sole earner for my family, so I always needed the cash."

That was the backstory delivered, now for the tougher part, the thing that actually got her sent down. "But what I actually got sentenced for was assaulting officers of the law, resisting arrest and two counts of murder. I only killed one person, but when your DNA is over the whole crime scene, nobody bothers to listen to you or believe you." She finished with a shrug, not quite sure how the other two were going to react. It was a make or break moment.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

John let Kyra lead the way to the cockpit. "Beacon message," he said, tapping the screen to display it.

"Good evening, Relentless. The Rescue Party V-011, approaching quickly. We request docking with your ship, to establish a tunnel link so we may enter."

John couldn't help but marvel at the scope of the operation he was involved in. The funds available from their annonymous backers seemed to be limitless. Money and enough influence and power to put together a rescue party in only a few hours.

He hit reply and recorded a voice transmission for the incoming ship. "Good to hear from you, Rescue Party. This is Captain John Haverson of the Relentless. I appreciate the swift response. Unfortunately our ship-to-ship docking station has been damaged. The Relentless can be accessed through our cargo bay airlock but I'm afraid that means parking your ship amd a short walk in vacuum to reach us. I look forward to your arrival. Relentless out."

John sighed as he sent the message. Not ideal but hardly a problem. Any ship flying came with an abundance of space suits and the asteroid had enough gravity to make the trip from the rescue ship to the Relentless little more than a short stroll.

"Feels like all I'm doing these past two days is getting rescued," John said with a sideways smirk to Kyra.

 

[Equusheart]

Kyra gave a bit a smirk of her own as she glanced over at John. Her smile that she gave him was both teasing and sympathetic.

"Hey, don't worry about Captain," she said. Kyra reached out to lay a reassuring hand on his arm. "You'll land on your feet eventually. Like you said, it's just a string of bad luck. It'll pass." Kyra turned to look at the expanse of stars outside the main window.

"You know, if it weren't for our situation that view would be damn near perfect. One of the reasons I became a pilot. You get to see stuff like that."

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

Tin-Tin watched her intently as she explained her past. He felt hurt in her voice, a lone woman sacrificing herself for the good of her family, despite her actions. "Ms. Linwood. You defied self preservation wholly and took care of your familiars. You would bleed for them. Such altruistic nature, whether if you partook in illicit and irredeemable actions such as theft or fighting, is deserving of praise. Statistics show that many families work just as you have, so that their relatives may gain a advantage." He spoke softly, as he could empathize with her. In a lifetime, hed met some creatures that would do the same. "I do not judge you for your past. I can only do my best to see your point of view. And i understand. I trust you." He nodded before perking up at the oncoming transmission.

"Good to hear from you, Rescue Party. This is Captain John Haverson of the Relentless. I appreciate the swift response. Unfortunately our ship-to-ship docking station has been damaged. The Relentless can be accessed through our cargo bay airlock but I'm afraid that means parking your ship amd a short walk in vacuum to reach us. I look forward to your arrival. Relentless out."

Tin-Tin shook his head and rolled off of the seat onto his feet. He walked to the cockpit, mumbling in a low voice. "I should have known as much. Gut freeling. Everyone. Suit up, were taking on vacuum. We will land near the Relentless shortly." He walked into the pit, ducking down and shutting the door behind him after his plates are in. The ship made a creak and they were moving once more.

 

[Bronco]

Baxter took a second to mull over the information Lindwood had provided. His lips were pursed in thought, the man running his tongue across his teeth as his mind worked. Boosting ships wasn't nearly the worst offense out there, some even admired the practice. Murder on the other hand was much more serious, especially in the case that the victim was a lawman. Just as this train of thought crossed Baxter's mind, it was interrupted by another string of memories. Images of drops long passed flashed within the man's mind: tracers, flames, and faces. No man was innocent in his platoon, not after the acts committed on those damn moons. He remembered the sensation of squeezing a trigger, each time the feeling loosing its luster and being replaced with a sense of foreboding. Lindwood had been booked on her charges, while Baxter and his unit had never received any in the first place. He had no room to judge the engineer.

"Well, at least we know how good of a mechanic you are now," he smiled slightly, biting into the protein bar he'd caught. Flavors of home burst in his mouth, only broadening his expression as he took another vigorous bite. "mmmmm mugod!" he relished the flavor. "Yeah no, we're friends now. The pact's been sealed," he chuckled motioning with the bar towards Lindwood.

His moment of enjoyment was interrupted by the Relentless's response. According to the captain their ship-to-ship was busted in the crash, meaning a space walk would be required to enter their craft. Tin-Tin reinforced this realization before re-manning the helm. As the ship moved in closer, Baxter rose and shoved the protein bar in a side pocket for later. "Time to make that moolah, grease monkey," he spoke to Lindwood. A familiar adrenaline was bubbling up inside of him, not comparable to that of being in a drop pod but it would do. Riding on this new feeling he made is way aft and into the storage bay. It wasn't long before he found a locker, the Velcro tab on its door reading EVA Gear, and opened it to reveal a worn space suit.

 

[_gallifrog_]

Lin found herself waiting as the other two lapsed into silence taking all of what she'd said in, digesting the bitter, hard pill. She wasn't sure what kind of reaction her words would get from them but she waited for their responses anyway. Waiting for the looks of disgust or disbelief or incomprehension as to why she felt this was her only option. Or even worse, the look of cold indifference she'd seen in prison from those who really couldn't care less about what had happened or what she'd done. The two in front of her were guilty in their own ways, of that she had no doubt, but being caught and charged was a mark that some found hard nigh impossible to overlook.

Linwood was pleasantly surprised when Tin-Tin spoke. She could tell he meant what he was saying and could truly empathise with what she'd done and more importantly why she'd done it. Even his use of statistics and analytics was reassuring to her. And to hear that she was trusted, well it made a welcome change. A slight smile spread across her face at that. "Could've done with somebody with so much understanding and empathy when I was being sentenced." Baxter spoke next, she'd been keeping an eye on him as he weighed up her story. The expression on his face was one she recognised well, Lin had seen it in prison many times. It was the face of somebody who was haunted by the actions of their past. But then his face shifted, to one of acceptance as he spoke, even making a joke out of the whole thing.

"True." Lin replied with a nod, relaxing her posture, her shoulders slumping with relief. It felt good to get that out, to clear up any misconceptions about her past before they began. "I'm good enough not to get caught, so that's gotta count for something." Lin was proud of the fact that she'd never been caught or charged for boosting ships. (Though she would rather have been charged with that than murder). It was a profitable skill and since so many economies were based on space travel they was employment both legal and illegal to be found on almost any planet, station or ship. At Baxter'(s blissed out expression she gave a chuckle, having warmed to him. "Friends it is, y'know, I might have more of those. I think I bought every flavour in the fracking store."

When the transmission came through Lin turned towards the comms device. She let out an audible groan followed by muttering of what sounded distinctly like 'wonderful, something for me to fix no doubt'. It couldn't just be an easy job for once. No, of course the docking equipment had to be busted up. Typical really. But what did she expect? This was no ordinary job. If Belnore was willing to spring her from the nick, then clearly this was a high stakes mission. When Tin-Tin told them to suit up she nodded, then crammed the rest of the bar down her throat. It might be a while before she'd get the chance to eat again.

Lin let out a snort at Baxter's nickname, swallowed down the bar, jumped up to her feet and followed him to the storage bay. "Really? That's the best you can do?" She questioned as he pulled open the locker door to reveal one single spacesuit. She was about to let out a groan when she saw the next locker over was labelled with 'EV worksuit' and opened it. Inside was another suit, one designed specifically for working on the outside of a craft. It was crafted to give better dexterity as well as allowing for tool storage and attatcting tanks for various tools. The suit showed signs of wear and tear, but at first glance appeared to be structurally sound. Lin carefully removed the suit and began to inspect it, looking for any kind of flaws. "It's almost as bad as my prison nickname- Tats and bolts. No prize for guessing why I got that name." Upon entering the prison Lin already had plenty of tattoos, mainly on her forearms. During her time in prison she'd acquired many more. Lin flipped over the suit and looking at the back of the arm, Lin discovered that the suit had indeed taken proper damage. It had been patched up with an adhesive fabric patch and what looked like industrial strength duct tape for good measure. "Well then. Looks like this suit has seen some damage."

 

[Bronco]

As Lindwood and him chatted, Baxter was commencing an inspection of his own suit. khaki in color, with brown padding at the knees and elbows, it was spotted in oil stains. On both pecs were Velcro strips void of any labeling. The same could be said of the squarer shoulder patches. So far everything looked to be serviceable...then he grabbed the helmet.

Taking it from a top shelf in the locker, it was immediately apparent that there was a crack in the accessory’s visor. Someone beforehand had attempted repairing the vital piece of equipment, in probably the shabbiest way possible. An adhesive strip was stuck across the crack, still leaving some of the damage visible. He grimaced at the state of the gear before answering Llindwood. “Could be worse. Wanna trade?” He held the helmet up in a hopeful manner, with a half pleading grin on his face.

“No? Yeah, that’s...that’s reasonable,” he sighed placing the helmet back on the locker shelf. He then moved to find some kind of adhesive roll around the bay, continuing the conversation with the engineer as he did so. “Tats and Bolts,” he echoed what Lindwood had said earlier. “Sounds like a cereal brand, but pretty fitting I guess. You did work on some of the prison systems then, or’d the other inmates here about your business?”

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

During the conversation, Tin-Tin moved the ship down towards the mass of rock and metal with little resistance to the darkness outside. The ship landed, three legs extending from the belly to give the ship some structure on the uneven ground, keeping the wings up. It looked up to the ceiling and placed a hand on its visor, rubbing it gently. It was contemplating something silently, standing up and heading out of the pit. Its blades hung low and chattered against one another at each footstep. It nods and proceeded to the cargo room to which he hoisted a large box of supplies that was buckled at every corner.

"Baxter. Once you are finished please help me carry these boxes. Both of you, enter the airlock and we will travel on foot from there." He looked to Linwoods tattoos then into her eyes. "If grease monkey doesnt make well wiyh you, i have a genorator that can come up with one. Chumbucket, Blackfinger, Smokeyoil, Rickety Rivets...hm..thats the end of the list." He looked to the corner of his visor suddenly, his plates rising in alarm then falling like the hairs of a scared cat. Something felt off. Maybe its the ship tilting to the left at 43○. He disbanded his feelings due to inconclusive evidence and walked off in a shuffle to avoid questions. These actions are always thought to be...embarrassing. Like the feeling of pressure building up behind his visor.

 

[_gallifrog_]

Linwood let out a tut, finding another patched up site on the back of the leg, a longer gash this time. It had been sewn up, then covered with an adhesive fabric patch and then some tape just for good measure. The previous owner of the suit wasn't taking any chances clearly. The suit was a dull red colour, with black and white detailing. There were dark smudges where somebody had attempted to clear away oil and cleaning fluid and hadn't put in enough elbow grease to make it truly disappear. But Baxter's helmet took the top prize for damage, she looked at it, shaking her head. "Thanks but no, and judging by the locking clips it wouldn't fit on the neck joint of this suit." Lin picked up her helmet, which was thankfully not cracked and gestured at the locking clips on hers, which were a completly different design to those on Baxter's helmet. As it was designed for an owner who would be working outside there was a headlamp on the top, along with two more precision lights on each side of the visor (which doubled as welding eye-shield).

Lin smirked at Baxter's next comment, agreeing with him. "A shitty cereal no doubt, but it acted as an identifier, telling people what I looked like and what I do. It could have been a lot worse." Linwood shrugged as she began assembling the suit around herself, starting from her legs and working her way up. She re-strapped the utility belt around her waist. "A bit of both, it started as me just fixing some odds bits of plumbing in a cell or the drinks machine that always got clogged. The inmates knew I had useful skills and that got me a pass and a reputation. One day the A/C broke down in the guard lunch room one day, absaloute panic stations for them obviously. None of them knew how to fix it, so I pulled in, they knew I had some kind of skills. Once I fixed that, it was like passing some kind of test and when they realised I had no malicious intent, they let me work on transports, door systems, engines, generators, delivery drones. Whatever needed fixing. Saved them money too as they didn't have to pay me. And I'm guessing it's my prison reputation that made Belmore decide springing me was a good idea." She shrugged and was about to ask Baxter a question, but then Tin-Tin arrived, issuing instructions.

She nodded, having located the airlock when she first arrived onboard the ship earlier. At the list of possible nicknames she shook her head, trying not to laugh. They seemed to get worse the more he spoke. "Grease monkey'll do. Or just Lin, that's what people called me before prison." She noticed the plates rising on Baxter, but couldn't discern if that was a good or a bad thing, having only just met him. The pessimistic part of her was saying that something was bound to go wrong. That this whole thing was just some kind of elaborate ruse in a game she didn't fully understand. But Lin shrugged it off, pulling on the rest of her suit and checking everything was sealed tight. She then strapped the life support backpack onto the suit, checking that the CO2 filters were working and that there was sufficient oxygen in the cannister and that the various valves and flows were working. Lin had done this before and was totally calm and methodical as she ran through her checks. She added on a reserve oxygen cannister, before strapping on her pack pack and supply pack.

 

[RayPurchase]

Steve sat before his engine room, his eyes closed and his hands on his hips. The ride had been bumpy, no question at all. But it was nothing short of a damn miracle that they had managed to make it in one piece. His eyes flicked open as he surveyed the devastation before him. It was also a minor miracle that he had nursed enough power from the mass of ruined machinery before him. The call from the captain of rescue being on its way had filtered through one ear and out the other, barely registering to be honest. He was far more concerned with what lay before him as opposed to what was coming.

From his pocket, Steve removed a small voice recorder, wielding a torch in the other he slowly made his way along the inspection gantry, shining his light along, a small pinprick of light in the cavernous room.

"Fuel lines are damn well nearly ruptured, we've got leaks at junctions 7 and 12, however these are minor in nature. The lines at these two junctions will have to be replaced as well of those connectin' junctions 3 to 6."

Reaching the end of the gantry he slid down the ladder, his boots crunching against broken glass, debris from one of the diagnostic stations. Here he stood before the 2 primary engines. He stood there without saying a word for what felt like an age but couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes.

"Primary engines.... coolant system is shot, if that's leaked into the fuel intake then we'll have to gut the whole thing and replace it, and for that we'll need a dry dock. So I'm praying to whoever is listenin' out there that isn't the case. Engine casin's have held up pretty well all things considered, doesn't seem to be anyaterial damage there. But then we come to the electronics..."

He bent down next to the interface console, and was met by a mass of exposed wiring. Melted plastic, fused ends. It was like the meaning of life in wire form. This was going to take the longest to repair (as long as the coolant situation didn't make the whole thing just a useless lump of metal). He slumped down next to the engine and removed a flask from his coat. As he flipped it open the strong smell from within caused his nose to wrinkle involuntarily. Steve took a sip of the foul smelling brew within, whilst the smell was something to behold, the taste was fine, or as fine as the sort of brew sailors were used to got. Little to do till that rescue arrived than to sit in the confines of his shattered station.

 

[Epiphany]

Meanwhile, Talia had spent the last some hours keeping an eye on their captive prisoner and preparing for what to do if their rescue ended up being more trouble. Or, worse, part of the plan. Nothing like a nice bit of sabotage to provide easy cover for a 'helpful ship just passing by' after all. Captain John Haverson didn't seem particularly gullible so odds were good that if a rescue ship came, it really was part of the organization backing and funding this expedition.

But then, that didn't mean Haverson was in on that organization's agenda either. Paranoia was a rather maligned virtue, in her opinion. Besides, Talia lacked technical skills to repair the ship. She lacked any real instruction on how to spend her time, for that matter. So, instead, she put the skills she did have to use.

By the time the rescue ship came in, Talia had already rigged a few miniature explosive charges in the door seal to the deck, while ensuring pressure doors would drop on cue. For that matter, she made sure to get herself suited up...and wear her pistol. If they tried an ambush before entering a pressured environment, she'd have to deal with them directly. But if they got in under false pretenses and turned out to be more hijackers, it'd be easy enough to blow the airlock door and space everyone not behind a pressure door.

Talia was whistling a bit cheerfully in her suit as she waited to greet those coming aboard to help them out.

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

Tin-Tin waited patiently in the airlock, bouncing in place while making synthetic whistles and humms while singing to itself. "I miss my mel-on-choly servers. But going back makes me nervous. Oh welcome to lifes pattern. Where space makes its return, back to where we are void. Stuck on an asteroid." He created a mechanical clap to it as his floating plates fluttered on his back like wings. This was to ease his anxiety, per se. His eyes rotated around his visor, looking to a button on the wall that would open the gates into emptiness, or rather absolute consumption to reach equilibrium.

Or rather, to take the excitement of life and snuff it like a wild flame. He thought about it constantly. It would make anyone weary of themselves and become mindful. How quiet the universe is. To understand every portion it has to offer. "Your somewhere out there. Ill find it. To become greater." He whispered to himself, his plates falling flat against his back.
_gallifrog_ Bronco

 

[Shannon Trevor]

John had smiled as Kyra lay a hand on his arm. A small gesture but reassuring gesture and something John was noticing more and more from the young pilot. "Thank you," he said, reaching up to squeeze her hand briefly.

He looked up as she motioned out to the stars beyond. "Oh, I don't know. Beautiful sights and good company. It's hard to beat right now."

************************************

It was a few hours later as John watched from the the cockpit of the Relentless as the rescue ship completed a single fly-past of the asteroid before coming in to land five hundred yards away.

"Hope their engineer is good," Myn said, watching the ship descend the last few feet on landing thrusters. "From what Steve tells me, we're in bad shape."

John nodded, having got a similar, if slightly more detailed, report from Steve. The damage was extensive but repairable. No need for a dry dock, just time and patience.

Myn dropped his voice and took half a step closer to John. "You know Talia has rigged explosives into the deck?"

"You don't approve, XO?" John asked with a smirk.

"Oh, I approve. Way this trip is going, I expect this rescue crew to either come out blastin', or have some nasty, instantly transferrable space disease that has us voiding our bowels in seconds. Just want to be sure she was good enough to give the Captain the heads up that his ship is rigged to blow."

"She took the initiative but informed me of what she did. I gave her my full backing."

Myn tapped a sceen displaying the rescue ship. Zooming in, he found the four figures of the relief party exiting the airlock and making their way toward the Relentless. "Not a lot of gear with them."

"No," John agreed. "Initial assessment first and then collect what they need." He tapped the screen to reset the view. "Let's go say hello."

He led Myn through the ship and down into the cargo bay. Two pressure doors acted as the airlock. Beyond them, the cargo bay door was sealed tight against vacuum. John made a quick check to ensure the airlock was fully sealed before lowering the ramp. He waited until the four figures has made it into the airlock before opening the door.

"Welcome to the Relentless. I'm Captain John Haverson."

 

[_gallifrog_]

The philosophical myisngs of Tin-Tin were lost on Lin, tuned out as she performed the final suit checks, ensuring everything was secured. With the others suited and booted the airlock was opened. The asteroid really was nothing special to look at and neither was their ship, but for Lin it was the first tangible sign that yes, she was free for the first time in well over seven years. If either ship was to blow up and kill her, Lin would die happy, knowing that it hadn't been prison where she spent her last moments. She was the second out of the airlock of their ship and the first to reach the airlock of the Relentless. Her build was naturally slim and pretty flat chested and this was only emphasised by the bulkiness of the spacesuit. Walking across the asteroid she could easily be mistaken for male even if her sliver of face could be seen.

She waited with the others as the airlock depressurised, looking at the solid door as if to determine whether there were people behind it or not. One hand drummed idly against her thigh belt. When the door did rise up she was greeted with the sight of two men, one inrtoduing himself as Captain John Haverston. Even without the title she could easily tell that he was the man in charge, he seemed to radiate authority and in Lin's mind seemed like a 'name, rank serial number' kind of guy when it came to introductions. She pulled off the heet revealing her short cropped dark hair. "M. Linwood in..."Lin caught herself before she gave her typical prison introduction of 'M. Linwood inmate 8332' turning the first syllable of inmate into the first syllable of engineer. "Engineer."

She was at a loss of what to say, not asking questions had been part of her brief and she had no idea how much if anything the captain knew about her. To an untrained ear her introduction could be interpreted as being delivered with military precision, but to those who'd been in the military, it was clear she was used to stating her name in an entirely different context.

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

The walk through space was eery and silent, as expected. Tin-Tin moved across the rusty rock plain in a dignified stride. Every step it took left a strange print, almost like a large chicken. No wind to blow it away, their boots and feet forever entombing their presence into the dirt. The machine looked everywhere at once, weary of debris. Its strange to see so much rock this close together, even in a asteroid belt. Once the airlock opened, the quiet reverberations of metal on metal shot through its legs. Frost began to build up around its shoulders from the moisture of the rescue ship, the accumulation of humid breath in a tight space.

The machine was behind Linwood, tied to the corner and carrying a hefty white padded container, riddled with metal bolts and plating with a worn painted symbol of a raven biting its wing. It tilted its head to the right; the three beaming dots on its visor dilates slightly in a thin rumble. Or rather, he was processing data and releasing a stutter. As the engineer failed to make use of herself past simple introduction, Tin-Tin straightened out. She isn't subtle."Good evening, Captain. As you are aware, we are the rescue team sent by the Admiral to rescue and possibly repair your ship. Ms. Linwood is our engineer and requires escort to the impaired section(s)." He chirped, his voice tinny. It took a step forward, the three dots on its visor parting into different corners. There was nothing special about the ship at first glance, the white lights of the hall absorbed by the pitch black of its visor. The box rattled gently, Its plates tucked flat against its back. It would appear to be leading the group, which is strange in its own way. Moreso, the machines posture fell and appeared to be neurotic with the low waving of its twin tails and the stuttering sounds it emits.

It didnt care as to what they know about it. Privacy was never a concern. It did respect the power Haverson had, despite what he saw is a old relaxed figure that doesn't wholly trust us. Maybe he began to "let go"? Its just finishing the task and leaving. Despite not having more tools to work with. The machine set the box down to rub off the thin ice and water from its face and elbows, some fragments landing on the floor with a rattle.

 

[Epiphany]

Talia looked over the landing party. Then she looked at Haverson, pointedly waiting for a visible sign that he was satisfied with who they claimed to be. There were advantages and disadvantages to being an 'outside hire' by their mutual employer. She ultimately reported up to this mission's backers but they didn't necessarily see fit to tell her everything they told him. Besides, Captain John Haverson was clearly a seasoned spacer. Talia had barely been off her homeworld. He had a much better chance of spotting a fake work crew than she did, just as she had a much better job of spotting a tail on the street than he did.

Let experts do what they're good at, focus on what you're good at. Good advice growing up, still good advice now.

If John gave her a nod or said something to indicate they passed his scrutiny, Talia said, "I'm Talia Singh. I can take Ms. Linwood to engineering." And she shot another glance at the Captain. Talia wasn't an engineer but she felt fairly confident that she could spot intentionally shoddy work, or outright sabotage for that matter. If Ms. Linwood was up to no good, Talia also felt she was the most qualified on the ship to...handle the personnel issue.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

John took a moment to size-up the four figures in front of him. They were a rag tag bunch but he supposed he could say something similar of his own crew. He glanced sideways at Talia before giving the slightest nod of his head. The android seemed to be leading the party and John listened as it identified their engineer. "Good. Our mechanic is already down in the engine room. From what he tells me it's going to take a lot of skill and a bit of luck to get our ship flying without dry dock and dry dock is not an option for us." John wasn't sure how much Belmore had told the rescue party but for now he intended to keep them on a strict need-to-know basis. "Myn, can you show MIss Linwood to engineering?"

He waited until his XO had departed before turning to the remaining trio. "I understand one of you is a medic. I would appreciate if you could take a look at one of our crew. He took a hit a day past after we experienced some...local colour. He's currently recuperating in his quarters. I can show you the way. As for the rest of you, I'll show you up to our galley. I've no doubt we'll all be needed to pitch in at some point but for now take the weight of. I'm sure Steve will call when the heavy lifting is required.


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

A spindly leg reaches out, the claw at its end tapping on metal as it connects. Another leg reaches up, followed by the creature they support. Ten splayed out carry it as it scuttles across the alien surface. The creature is the size of a human male torso with a hard shelled body protecting every part of it other than the head. Three foot-long mandibles protrude from a frothing mouth. The lowest mandible tentatively scratches the surface, testing to see what the material is. From the cave only a hundred or so yards from where Tin-Tin has parked his ship, a wave of identical creatures pour out, eager to feast.

Equusheart Epiphany RayPurchase _gallifrog_ Folly-Derrezzed Bronco