Treasure Trove and a Coffin

Cockpit 


 * The cramped cockit barely has enough room for the pilot's bench and second officer's station behind, every square of space inch filled with monitors, switches and system telltales. The glassteel canopy provides minimal headroom, the long slender bubble providing an excellent view of the surrounding space. A holographic heads up display provides navigational information while the console signals add faint rainbow reflections.

Norton is sitting at the weapons console, smoking a cigarette. He's in a worksuit, other than the helmet.

Martin comes into the Cockpit now sporting a marine uniform. He gives Nort a nod and takes a seat at the comms station.

An engineering Corporal comes in, Lunite from the looks of him. He's wearing his own worksuit, minus helmet as well "Corporal Jordan Hennings from engineering, as requested sir." he says to Norton, saluting.

"Where's your worksuit, guy?" Norton asks Martin through the cigarette haze. Norton nods to Hennings, "Knock off the saluting. Take a seat. I guess I'll fly this puppy. Just got certified."

‘’After some fancy flying by the newly certified pilot…’’

The ride is somewhat rough, but it's functional and nothing gets damaged on the way out. It looks like Norton doesn't believe in autopilot or something.

Martin shrugs "Oh, right." He says, leaving the cockpit and returning some time later in a worksuit. "Better." The Martian says as he checks the seals on his gloves.

Hennings nods, dropping the salute he moves over to engineering. He's quiet, simply doing his job, boosting power where needed to smooth the ride over as much as he can.

With the cigarette dangling out of his mouth, Norton's hand hovers above a switch while his other controls the throttle. He asks, "Hey, do any of you guys remember what this one does?"

Martin shakes his head. "They only half-assed trained me to use the comms." He says, "I'm sure it would be bright red if was going to kill us." He says.

"Should boost emergency power to the aft thrusters, sir" Hennings indicates after looking over towards Norton. He looks back at his controls, monitoring.

"Good theory," says Norton. He doesn't hit the switch, though. Better safe than sorry and why ruin a good thing? The ship is going from point A to B. Expecting more would be expecting too much. He does a brief eyeroll after hearing Henning's own theory. "Somebody's been sleeping with the training manuals again. Suck up."

Martin pats his chest and sighs. "Got a spare smoke? Left mine in the locker." The Martian says with a slight frown to the Captian.

"I'm paid to know what these controls do, sir, and how to fix them if they break." comes Henning's response.

"Sure," says Norton to Martin. "Let me use my fifth arm to hand them to you." His own cigarette is burning steadily down to the butt with ash collecting on the burning end as he continues to fly. He tells Hennings, "Don't tell me you're one of the honest types who actually expects to earn the pay they mooch off the government."

"I get paid to do my job, and I know how to do it, sir." Hennings replies with a shug, still monitoring his console.

Martin sighs and nods. "You have any Hennings?" He says, swinging his chair to face the new engineer.

"He's really going to have to loosen up. We leave tight wads on the relics," says Norton.

Martin shrugs and nods. "Ok," He says swinging his chair back to face the comms. ." Hennings shrugs, going back to looking at his station.

"Almost there boys and boys," says Norton as he continues to do his slightly less than inept flying thing. "How many of you thought to bring guns and techscanners and arc cutters?"

Interstellar Space 


 * The darkness is lonely, this deep into interstellar space. A handful of stars, a lost rock tumbling through the emptiness, a scattering of hydrogen ions are the only company in this sea of sable.

"I got my new rifle, and a measuring stick if that helps." Martin says. "Figuring how to get whatever we find into the ship is my job." He then waves over to Hennings. "It's his, to figure out what exactly we did find."

"Pistol, techscanner, field kit, standard Engineering gear." Hennings replies.

"Looky, looky," says Norton. He slows the ship to a halt by firing breaking thrusters and what not. Technical data, blaah, blaah. "Your captain isn't completely useless. What we got here," he says as he points to the scanner. "Is classic signs of a space battle. Good job, people, way to know your AOs without expecting me to hand feed you."

Martin shurgs "I loaded some winches and other crap we need to get what we need from there into here." He says, then peers out the window. "Thats the wreck you paid for?"

Pieces of five small, armed vessels are strewn about here, victims of what looks to be a fierce firefight. They surround a nearly-wrecked Leviathan with a very visible hole in both its loading bay and front viewport, and three dead crewmembers floating just outside said window.

Hennings looks up at the vessels, then back to his console "Running a scan on them now, sir, lookign for a reactor, correct?" he asks as his fingers fly over his console.

"That's the one," says Norton as he fires up the engines. "We're not exactly on a salvage scow here. What're we going to try for is flying that space turd back to Hancock. Eh, the reactors on those fighters, what's left of them, ain't got enough juice for what we're after. The Leviathan is our goal."

The huge freighter is over seven hundred meters long from bow to stern and almost fifty meters wide, making it one of the largest starships to ply the spacelanes. From its central spine hangs its forward cargo bays, ten in all ranked two by two, port and starboard, reaching from the bow to the stern drive and control module. This sturdy block of metal houses the ship's huge insystem drives, the cowlings and thruster bells larger than some starships. Between the two primary drive assemblies are the crystal lattices of the ship's Moebius drive, which glow crimson when the ship is in flight. On its dorsal side rises the superstructure of the ship's bridge and service compartments, similar to ancient seagoing supertankers. On the this module's ventral surface are the large hatches of the freighter's docking bay, allowing for supplies and cargo to be loaded and offloaded. The freighter is festooned with bright strobing running lights, warning others of its slow approach. Painted white and light gray with broad red identification bands, its name is emblazoned in huge letters across the back of its superstructure: IND Mountebank.

Martin looks at the drifting ship. "Biggun aint it? So we are going to get up and running again, or are we towing it?" He asks not taking his eyes off the wreck.

"Still want a scan of the Leviathen, sir? Make sure the reactors are still opperational?" Hennings asks, still tapping away.

"Try to get it running. Damage looks external," says Norton as he flies towards the hulk of the Mountebank. "We'll find out when we get there. Don't think we can tow it with our spindrive in FTL. We could tow it in normal space, but who knows how many months getting back will take?" He nods to Hennings, "Scan it, but if they're not operational, they're still probably in better shape than our completely non-existant blown ones."

Martin nods. "I know next to nothing about space flight." He says, tearing his eyes away from the ship.

"Wilco, sir." Hennings replies as he continues tapping, initiating his scan.

"Go ahead and hail them for propriety's sake," Norton tells Martin as he waits on Hennings's data.

"This is the Haste, anyone home?" Martin says into comms.

After a few moments he turns back to Norton. "Nobody." He states simply.

"We have signal readings on the reactors, looking positive sir, probably still functional." Hennings says after a few moments.

"In we go, then," says Norton as he gently as possible noses the ship towards the much larger one that seems to be adrift.

Martin nods and stands. "Ready when you are." He says walking over and standing next to the door.

Hennings nods, standing from his station "My gear is in engineering, I'll grab it." he states, moving towards the hatch.

"Put your helmet on, then, or you're going to be spaced with your brain pouring out your eye sockets. Wouldn't make for an open coffin viewing," says Norton as he gets up and puts his own dome on. He watches the viewscreen a for moments before turning it off, "Let's go 'sploring." He gives Hennings a nod.

Loading Bay 


 * Set forward of the engineering compartment, the loading bay is a large open space within the supr-freighter. Framed within the harsh skeleton of the starship's gray hullmetal ribs, the high bay has a battered industrial feeling. Sized for oversized cargo and its own transfer dropship, every inch of the space has been given over to pragmatic utility. Even the cargo and supply storage areas are kept in meticulous and disciplined order, ensuring that not a single square inch of space is wasted. A gantry crane and heavy duty repair gear make a lattice across the ceiling, while the floor plates are studded with a gridwork of anchors and equipment tie downs.


 * Forward a pair of huge pressure doors leads to the ship's spinal workshaft, which provides access to the ship's ten cargo holds.

In the confines of the worksuit, Norton clamors down the Haste's ramp. Looking to the left and right, he points to the storage locker, "Check it out, gear boy." He looks around the rest of the huge bay, "Huh, we can check out the rest of the bays before we check out the lift. I'm in no hurry to secure this. Five fighters tried taking it. Might be some worthwhile stuff in those bays."

Hennings comes off the ship, in his worksuit. He's carrying a field kit, and a techscanner and pistol are strapped to his waist, "Anything for me to do before we check out the reactors, sir?" he questions Norton.

Martin struggles down the ramp. He pauses and looks around the bay. He repositions his rifle and nods."Sure thing." The Martian says as he hastily and clumsily moves toward the locker. "They left us some presents." He chuckles in his suit when he opens the locker and holds out a psi grenade.

"Tag along. Point out anything dangerously broken," says Norton as he looks around the bay. "Keep in mind one of these bays has a hole in it. So keep your mag boots in contact with the deck. I'd send you straight there, but we don't have the numbers to split up. I left two marines in the Haste to drill any hijackers." He nods to Martin, "All right, I'll have the marines secure that crap. Let's move." Off he goes, speaking on his commlink as he heads for the spinal workshaft. "Looked over schematics. Should be this way."

Jordan nods, "Yes sir." he replies as he glances around. He takes out his scanner, scanning around as he walks, glancing from his scanner to the area around him and back.

Martin puts the grenade back into the locker and heads towards Norton. He stumbles a few times as he makes his way over. The Martian pulls out his PDA when he falls in step close behind the Captian. "Keeping a invetory of what we find." He says with no particular interest.

Norton slowly cycles the cargo hatch, the warning beacons strobing from amber to green, and steps from the loading bay to the workshaft beyond.

Spinal Workshaft 


 * Wide and tall the ship's spinal workshaft is literally the backbone of the super-freighter. Its form is bound by the huge hullsteel girder's of the ship's keel, with massive ribs running repetatively down its length. Topside and bottom side a set of huge cago handlers run the entire length of the bay. Controlled from the bridge these gantry cranes transfer cargo from the loading bay to the ship's ten cargo holds. Each hold is marked by a pair of huge pressure doors, ranked down the spine in sets of two, one portside, one starboard.

Norton hangs out just inside the pressure doors with his magboots. "Born for the job, eh, buddy?" Norton asks Martin. "Look, boys and boys, this is zero g. I'm going to scout it out. See if you two can get a manifest or something."

"Pretty much." Martin says, looking about for a computer. "Lets see if we can find a working terminal." He says too the engineer.

Hennings nods "Should be on the bridge, they might keep cargo records down here or something," he replies.

As Norton tumbles, literally, out of the last of the holds he loses his grip on the deck and ends up spinning about in the zero-g environment. This doesn't stop him from calling out, "Don't worry about me. Get into the Port Hold 5. There first two starboard holds are packed, too, but that's standard stuff from the looks of it."

Martin starts to slowly move towards PH5, he lumbers to his goal. "Ok, I'm innetory it later." The Martian says over the comm.

Hennings nods, moving after Martin, still scaning around.

Norton ends up grabbing one of the massive ribs that line the ship and walks down and around to the bay in question himself.

Cargo Hold P5 


 * The cargo hold is a massive utilitarian affair, a long cavern framed by the reinforced bulkheads and deck acess plates. Tie downs and anchor pins line entire space in a flexible grid, allowing all manner of cargo stored and secured. Hidden behind large access panels and equipment banks are the varied multi-purpose support equipment, to allow for a variety of transport environments and above run several tracks for gantry cranes and transport equipment. High bay light fixtures march down the hold'slength, while individually keyed conduit runs provide the only splash of color in this space. A large set of pressure doors provide access back to the freighter's spinal workshaft.

Classroom A small classroom has been cut out of the cargo space, featuring several bolted-down desks, a portable gravity generator, several blackboards, an area featuring laid-out equipment for one person, walls filled with schematics, and what appears to be an enormous in-system thruster. On closer inspection, the first schematic is a astronomical schematic including two asteroid belts, a gas giant, an Earth-compatible planet, another asteroid belt, and then a sun. A certain part of the second asteroid belt is circled. In the second schematic, it shows a large asteroid, approximately three miles wide, looking very similar to Hancock Station, but much less finished. Circled here is one of the gimbal thrusters on the asteroid, looking similar to the large thing within the classroom. The third shows the thruster and a few passages within the substructure of the asteroid, and has a red line seeming to show a means of getting to the command center via the thruster. A fourth schematic shows the star chart for a system that seems to just include asteroid belts and lifeless planetoids, and one of the planetoids is circled.

Norton makes it into the bay a bit ahead of the other two. He waves a hand to the weapon collection and moves to the classroom.

Martin looks around and begins punching data into his PDA. He then follows Nort towards the classroom. "OK? He tech guy, what the hell is all this?" He says over the comms.

Hennings slowly walks towards the classroom, blinking a little. He scans over the equipment laid out in the classroom with his techscanner as he glances around "...these are plans, aren't they sir?" he asks Norton, his hand moving towards the pistol at his waist.

"No kidding," says Norton over the worksuit's comm line. "Looks like mission prep. Mission prep into a hostile area." He looks to the blackboard, "You're the engineer, son, you'd know that better than I would." He walks over to the second schematic of the unfinished asteroid, "What's that look like to you two? None of us know enough about astro nav to figure out the gibberish on that fourth schematic, I'm guessing."

Martin moves in closer to examine the chart. "I'll be damned." He says in shock. "You don't think that is..?" The Martian asks.

"...it looks like it, system maps match up as well." Hennings comments as he scans over more of the equipment.

Norton points to the thruster and says, "That look like Hancock's, my wrench monkey friend?" He shrugs and says, "I don't know of too many more asteroid bases in existance. What'cha mean? That matches New Luna's system? Interesting. Well, we can think about it while we move. Maybe we'll find some more stuff to put together."

Martin nods in his worksuit. "Alright," He says, looking away from the chart and making a note in his PDA. He then raises it and takes a snap shot of the various charts.

"Two asteroid belts, gas giant, habitable planet?" Hennings says, moving over to tap the second schematic with his finger "That's the L49 system or I'll be damned, sir."

Lift 


 * Cast of dark grey metal and reinforced structural ribbing, the freighter's lift system is utilitarian rugged and grimly pragmatic. Diffuse light from ceiling panels above provide a pale illumination, casting dull shadows across the wall access panels and tight gridwork flooring. A row of sturdy handholds are provided for anchorage, and a line of green telltales follow the lift's motion. A small reinforced keypad sits next to the polished doors, directly below the lift directory.

"Hmm," says Norton over his commlink. "How do you two feel about nosing around the crew quarters before we start the real work?"

Martin shrugs. "Fine by me, maybe get some more info on why they have all that data about home." He says.

"Works for me, sir." Hennings replies as he checks his pistol.

Crew Deck 


 * The wardroom fills out the second deck, providing living and work accomadations for the freighter's crew. The outboard walls are set with a series of double bunks, bordering the large bay. A set of lockers are recessed below each pair, and each pair are separated by a set of tall storage compartments. Each bunk has a pull down shade for privacy. The floor is a made up of diamond gridded steel panels, each set with countersunk bolts allowing access to the service ducts below. Above similar panels form the room's ceiling, some replaced with squared grillework, behind which are mounted a transluscent diffuser lens and cool flourescent lights. The aft wall is an array of integrated support equipment, including an entertainment center with a large screen display with supplemental monitors. Forming a center island is the ship's galley, the cooking equipment within a circular service ring. Across the floor has been set several large pieces of furniture, including two pool tables, a ping pong table and several couches and chairs with integrated data terminals. Forward a large viewscreen looks across the long bow of the ship and the surrounding space.

Strewn Bodies The wardroom seems to be in chaos. Blankets lay strewn about, and wardrobes have messes of clothes coming out of them, as if to suggest the crew's sleep was suddenly disturbed. Three bodies float in the vacuum in one corner, that of a small child, a roguish-looking woman, and a large great dane. The door to the Captain's Quarters seems to have a hole melted through it.

"Must be Ungstiri tough," says Norton as the lift actually works. He leaves the lift leading with the business end of his assault rifle as his mag boots engage on the decking, moving slowly and looking over the floating bodies.

Martin follows Nort in. When he sees the bodies he shoves his PDA away and brings up his rifle. "This is getting to be worse than that asteriod we found." The Martian says.

Hennings unholsters his pistol at the sight of the bodies, looking /slightly/ nervous through his worksuit.

"Uh huh," says Norton as he looks to the floating woman, child, and dog in the corner. "Nothing around at this point or my name is Peanut." Still, he leads the way with his rifle to the captain's quarters. "Say a prayer over them later or something if you're religious. If I'd seen them before that blackboard get up, I'd call them space pirates."

Martin begins to walk slowly backwards after Norton. He sweeps his rifle nervously around keeping his eye on what is behind them. "I'll say a prayer to Pluto on the way out." He says.

Captain's Quarters 


 * There is an air of quiet simplicty which frames the room, bringing the subtle touch of stateliness to the carefully appointed quarters. High across the outboard wall arcs a portal, a long narrow band of clear polycomposite glazing providing a dramatic view. Beyond its crystal pane the stars slowly pass, cast across the sable depths.


 * Into the fore and aft walls a pair of bunks are recessed, wrapped in an efficient array of simple casework. Each bed is neatly made, a small red satin cased pillow set at its head. Above, below, and to the sides the support cabinets become a paneled grid of polished metal. Some panels are doors, some for storage cubbies, and others are displays, monitors and commlink, the pragmatic links to the outside world.


 * Along the outboard wall is a workstation, flanked by a pair of stainless steel chairs. The workstation data display and keypad are set flush in the desktop. Upon the screen is traced a lattice of coloured lines and scrolling specifications, as well as readouts repeated from the ship's command workstation.

Two Bodies The corpses of two unclothed women, a humanoid of some sort and a Timonae, are chained to one of the bunks here by their arms. Unlike the rest of the crew, however, they don't seem to have died from asphyxiation or decompression. Both seem to be victims of a fire that seems to have consumed all the bedding on both bunks. The Timonae still clutches a plasma pistol in one hand, and the remains of a pair of pants with an empty belt holster in the other, while the other humanoid is burned beyond recognition. The door has been partially melted away from what appears to be plasma fire.

"Fucking Hell..." Hennings says as he moves in, looking at all the damage wrought by the plasma pistol.

"I got to agree with you," says Norton. "This is stranger and stranger. Some weird kink would be simplest explanation. Chained to bed, naked, shot mutual suicide?"

"Wha the fuck was going on in here?" Martin says in shock as he sees the remains of the two women. The Martian then mutters a few words in Latin, most likely a prayer.

"...some serious shit happened here." is all Hennings says, staying near the doorway, not moving too far in.

Looking to the door, Norton says, "Beats starving to death, but me, I would have shot out the chains. I guess better this than dying from asphyxiation. Still doesn't explain the chains. Let's go. Out of the way, Hennings." He heads for the first officer's quarters.

First Officer's Quarters 


 * There is an air of quiet simplicty which frames the room, bringing the subtle touch of stateliness to the carefully appointed quarters. High across the outboard wall arcs a portal, a long narrow band of clear polycomposite glazing providing a dramatic view. Beyond its crystal pane the stars slowly pass, cast across the sable depths.


 * Into the fore and aft walls a pair of bunks are recessed, wrapped in an efficient array of simple casework. Each bed is neatly made, a small red satin cased pillow set at its head. Above, below, and to the sides the support cabinets become a paneled grid of polished metal. Some panels are doors, some for storage cubbies, and others are displays, monitors and commlink, the pragmatic links to the outside world.


 * Along the outboard wall is a workstation, flanked by a pair of stainless steel chairs. The workstation data display and keypad are set flush in the desktop. Upon the screen is traced a lattice of coloured lines and scrolling specifications, as well as readouts repeated from the ship's cargo operations workstation.

"Normal enough," says Norton as he enters. "For a zero-g state of affairs it doesn't look too bad. Let's get to engineering."

Martin nods and follows Nort out. He remains remains silent, and a bit paler.

Hennings does the same.

Engineering 


 * The engineering bay is a huge space, taking up the majority of space in the freighters aft service module. And yet for all its size there is little room. Narrow catwalks lead between the heavy duty machinery that keeps the freighter alive, from the triple reactors of its fusion power plant to the twin Centurian Class insystem drives. The aft of the compartment glows a soft crimson, the light shimmering from the huge box that is the spindrive. Forward center are the massive scrubbers and air handlers of lifesupport, while port and starboard rise the racks of the ship's computer mainframe.

Dead Body A short Ungstiri man floats face-down in front of the Spindrive console, a pile of parts and toolkits floating around him, as if he was in the middle of something when he finally ran out of air.

Norton wanders among the catwalks until he shows up near the body. "Huh." He looks at the stuff floating nearby. "Uh, yeah, this is your court, Hennings, but it looks like something may very well be broke." He sucks on his lower lip behind the facemask, nudging the body with his rifle.

And here comes Jordan Hennings to the rescue, moving over towards the engineering console. He takes his pistol and sort of nudges the floating body out of the way, not touching it, before he gets to work on the console, tapping at it, lookign through readouts.

"More bodies?" Martin sighs. "One hell of a trip this is turning out to be." The Martian then begins to look at the body in morbid curiosity.

Norton, on the other hand, snags the floating techscanner. "Use this."

"Have my own, sir." Hennings replies, taking out his own scanner "It looks like we've got some pretty heavy damage, fighters did a number on this thing."

Martin looks away from the body to look at the new engineer. "Any clues of went wrong? It looks like they did a number on the fighters too." He says moving slowly away from the body.

"Yeah," says Norton. "But I think theirs might be better. Anyway, the point is, can you fix it? Or is this junker a bigger project than Hancock?" He nods to Martin, "Sucks to be them, don't it?" He shrugs, "Yeah, but they were leaking air. Probably couldn't repair life support. Most of them look to have died from lack of good ol' oh two."

Hennings frowns "We might need more engineers than this, sir, it's going to take a hell of a long time for me to fix this thing alone." he taps the screen "Computer systems don't seem to be functional, no power..." he trails.

Martin looks about the bay for a few moments. "Nothing you can do?" He finally asks.

"Crap on a cracker," says Norton. "Why is it my life has to be complicated? I know if we don't salvage this ourselves the Watcher's are going to get their clawed fingers on it. Be like fighting with a bunch of four year olds over a sandbox toy." He starts out, "You think about fixing this while we keep going. We'll be back here. See if we can't find a clue."

"If I could get the main power back online, might help..." Hennings muses as he nods to Norton, moving after the man.

"The bridge sir?" Martin asks, readjusting his hold on his rifle.

"Eh, yeah," says Norton as he enters the lift.

Command Deck 


 * Cool and pale light streaks through the massive freighter's bridge, darting across workstations and consoles, casting soft grey shadows upon the continual bustle. No matter what watch there is always activity here, the handling of the massive ship requiring continual vigulance. The bridge itself sprawls across the wide bay, each station placed beneath the ship's forward viewscreen, allowing for an excellent view of the ship and the surrounding space.


 * Central are the dual command workstations, set upon a small dias, watching over the bridge as a whole. Running from port to starboard are the is the communications, cargo operations, engineering, navigation, helm and flight control workstations.


 * Telltales glitter bright and colorful, a sharp contrast to the worn deckplates and the exposed gray metal structure. Above the workstations, wrapping three sides of the bridge, is the heavy polycomposite glasteel viewport. The individual panes are set in heavy ribbing, opening out to the dark reaches of space.

Currently, a large hole in the viewport exposes the bridge to vacuum.

Strewn Bodies Thirteen victims of sudden decompression float motionlessly within the command deck, and six others float just outside a ten foot jagged hole in the viewport. All nineteen crewmen look to be Ungstiri, the look of surprise and fear forever locked on their features. One of the thirteen bodies still within the command deck is suited up in a heavy suit of plasma-scarred Marine Combat Armor with a drained oxygen tank, his hands clutching the controls of the weapons console. The body inside seems to be missing his pants, and has deep, bloody fingernail marks in his back.

"Careful in this one," says Norton as he exits the lift. "If you screw up, you're spaced."

Martin follows in, he looks about and shakes his head. "More of 'em." Is all he has to say.

Hennings carefully moves around, keeping his boots on the deck as much as he can "...this just gets stranger and stranger, what the fuck happened here?"

"I'm getting an idea, son," says Norton as he walks over to the guy in MCA. "These guys got hit. This guy here, our local hero, was able to suit up and fire back. He spaced the badguys before they could get in." He starts to float the guy to the lift, "Let's see who he is and get him out of this."

Martin grabs one of the man's arm. "Let's." He says in a monotone voice as he helps Norton move it towards the lift.

Hennings nods faintly, glancing back towards the bodies as he follows behind the two.

Lift 


 * Cast of dark grey metal and reinforced structural ribbing, the freighter's lift system is utilitarian rugged and grimly pragmatic. Diffuse light from ceiling panels above provide a pale illumination, casting dull shadows across the wall access panels and tight gridwork flooring. A row of sturdy handholds are provided for anchorage, and a line of green telltales follow the lift's motion. A small reinforced keypad sits next to the polished doors, directly below the lift directory.

Norton starts to laugh after he strips the guy down. "Look at these scratch marks, boys! This guy was a whore hound! His harem was the girl's we saw locked in the captain's quarters! He didn't have time to put his pants on when he rushed out. That's where those two doxies got the gun to fry themselves!"

Martin shakes his head. "Fucking perv." He says coolly. He then steps back from the body, a frown on his face.

"So...the fighters attacked, he suited up and left his pants and came up to blast the fighters?" Hennings guesses.

Norton chuckles some more as he sets the body and armor afloat in the lift. "Watch yourselves on the way out. Let's go check the airlock." He nods to Hennings, "Yeah, my best guess."

Airlock 


 * Amber warning lights wash across the the airlock core, chasing shadows across the rough gray bulheads and grid textured wall panels. Stern pragmatics govern its form, from its sturdy steel equipment racks to recessed lockers taking advantage of every square inch of wall space. Several EVA suits are racked against the stern wall. A reinforced hatchway set upon the forward bulkhead allows access into the freighter itself.

Floating Body An atmosphere suit-clad dead body hides behind a pile of oxygen tank-less worksuits and atmosphere suits. The woman loosely holds a plasma pistol in her hand and a pile of empty oxygen tanks are piled next to her, suggesting she was preparing for an ambush that never came.

Norton comes in and surveys the scene with his pulse assault rifle in the lead. He nods once, "Looks like el capitan wasn't the only one with a brain. This chick set herself up to defend in case his shooting wasn't on the mark. Man, this is fun."

"Still doesn't explain /why/ the fighters were attacking." Hennings comments as he follows in.

"Well, they were either pirates or good guys," says Norton. "No telling. These guys are armed for bear, though."

Martin shrugs. "Pirates? But they left all the equipment. It doesn't make any damn sense." He says, he then nears at the floating woman's corpse. "How long do you think it's been?" The Martian asks.


 * Trauma kit in hand, Marcus makes his way into the area. "You know, sir, I -am- considered combat personnel," speaks the surgeon through the suit. "Sounds like you've had a hell of a time in here." His first focus is on the floating body, moving over it give a look, and then around the airlock.

"Could have chased the pirates off, they flee and then the Captain dies when his oxygen runs out." Hennings suggests. He doesn't make any comment about Marcus.

"No real telling in this sort of environment," says Norton with a shrug that is barely noticible in his suit. "Not by me, anyway. Maybe a medical expert. From the looks of things, it looks like all the pirates got spaced in their ships before the guys in the fighters could board." He turns his helmet to Marcus, "You are, doc, but I thought I'd leave you behind to ride herd on the marines back there. Make sure they don't shoot us in passing or something. Not big thinkers always. More of the doer sort."

"Could be, I have no clue. It's all just a little weird." Martin says pulling the body to him then moving towards Marcus with a frown. "What do you think Doc?" He asks, letting the body go near the medic.


 * "Oh, -that's- what they were asking permission to do. They're certainly antsy," he replies, mask turning back to the body as it comes toward him. He opens his trauma kit, letting it float there all pretty on the corpse's floating chest - a rather morbid sight, really. Removing a laryngoscope and a stethoscope, he does a cursory examination down the body's throat, light shining down. Then, using the stethoscope, he applies pressure to various portions of the corpse's chest. "Well, who wants to take bets on how old she is? Any wagers? There's no oxygen to help decompose her once she died - but from what I can tell on a first glance, she's a good two or three years old. No signs of trauma or carbon monoxide poisoning, or a quick death by any means. Painless, she probably passed out."

Hennings blinks "Two or three years? Holy shit..." he trails as he looks around the airlock "...would think this'd have been found by someone before now, then."

"You can compare it to the unsuited guy in engineering," says Norton. "Let's head there and let Hennings work his magic. Maybe the ones that shot themselves and burned up or the scratches on the captain's back. You got a lot of material to work with today, doc, despite the vacuum and seals and all that craziness making things tricky." He shakes his head, "This part of space isn't exactly high traffic."


 * "I'm going to take a quick pathology on this corpse. I'll be right after you all," replies Marcus, removing a scalpel and taking a quick biopsy of the corpse's mummified flesh's abdomen. He deposits it in a biohazard bag, securing it in the trauma kit, closing it,a nd following after."

Engineering 


 * The engineering bay is a huge space, taking up the majority of space in the freighters aft service module. And yet for all its size there is little room. Narrow catwalks lead between the heavy duty machinery that keeps the freighter alive, from the triple reactors of its fusion power plant to the twin Centurian Class insystem drives. The aft of the compartment glows a soft crimson, the light shimmering from the huge box that is the spindrive. Forward center are the massive scrubbers and air handlers of lifesupport, while port and starboard rise the racks of the ship's computer mainframe.

Norton wanders with his clunking mag boots along the catwalks until he reaches the console and the nearby body.

Martin looks about the bay once more, finding nothing more interesting then the time before. The Martian then goes and stands near the console. "Need anything from the ship Hennings?" He asks.

Hennings heads back over towards the console "Now, let's see if I can't get the power back online..." he says "If we have any tools better than a field kit, grab them." he says to Martin.


 * Marcus takes hold of the floating corpse, performing much of the same examination on that body. Laryngoscope down the throat, looking for respiratory trauma of any sort, applying pressure to various points on the chest and listening with the stethoscope. He also cuts the corpse's clothes off for a good and detailed physical examination of the body.

"Work on the drive system first since we got that part," says Norton. "Man, not being able to smoke sucks. These patches are wearing off."

"Lets see if ole Hennings here can get the life support back up. Then we can put the air scrubbers to good use." Martin says with a smile.

"You have a large supply of O2?" Hennings asks Martin as he nods to Norton, grabbing the drivekit he moves over towards the spindrive and begins to get to work "Because the life support wont do anygood if we don't have any O2, and those holes wont help."


 * "Well," states Marcus as he finishes with the now naked Ungstiri mummy. "This is the least interesting pile of very dead people I have ever seen. They all suffocated. Probably got confused, pissed off, went unconscious, seized, died, and then turned into an artifact for a Sivadian museum in a few thousand years had we not come upon it first. However, I will be here in case Hennings blows the hell out of himself, me, or us in restoring the life support."

"Let's see if we can get this junker to Hancock station before we get too crazy with our secondary demands," says Norton as he has nothing better to do than watch Hennings work. "Should have brought more stuff with us for repairs. My fault. Trip back isn't so long in the Haste. We might have to do a second run. Oh well, no one is perfect all the time other than my mother." He nods to Marcus, "You make me feel much better. You should check out the harem if you want something a bit more spicy."

Martin shurgs at Hennings. "I suppose not, but I could go for a smoke after seeing all this." The Martian says. He then looks over Marcus "I'll tag along if you want to see 'em." The man offers.


 * "Well, it's all a bunch of bodybags anyway. As long as I have something interesting for the pathology report I send to the hospital planetside so that they can touch themselves at night," replies Marcus. He nods to Martin. "I might need you to hold some things. Let's go look at some dead people. If there's any booms, blinkies, or woo-woos that require my attention, radio me and I'll come that way."

"Right," says Norton. He tells Martin, "I didn't realize you were so turned on by dead, burned chicks."

Martin pales and frowns. "What the hell? I just offering to take the man up so I can say a bit of a prayer for the kid." He states angrily.

Marcus presses the dull metal button, and waits a moment for the doors to open, before stepping into the lift.

"Relax," Norton tells Martin next. "I make bad jokes."

Hennings fiddles with the spindrive for a bit, reattaching some wires, engineering stuff. After a moment he heads over to the spindrive's console, taps a few buttons, and then looks to Norton "One working spindrive, sir."

"All right," says Norton. "How are you with a welding torch, or am I going to have to fly this junker with a gaping hole in the front of it?"

"I'm not bad, going to need a suitable chunk of metal or the like." Hennings responds.

"We can use a couple of bunks," says Norton as he heads to the lift.

Crew Deck 


 * The wardroom fills out the second deck, providing living and work accomadations for the freighter's crew. The outboard walls are set with a series of double bunks, bordering the large bay. A set of lockers are recessed below each pair, and each pair are separated by a set of tall storage compartments. Each bunk has a pull down shade for privacy. The floor is a made up of diamond gridded steel panels, each set with countersunk bolts allowing access to the service ducts below. Above similar panels form the room's ceiling, some replaced with squared grillework, behind which are mounted a transluscent diffuser lens and cool flourescent lights. The aft wall is an array of integrated support equipment, including an entertainment center with a large screen display with supplemental monitors. Forming a center island is the ship's galley, the cooking equipment within a circular service ring. Across the floor has been set several large pieces of furniture, including two pool tables, a ping pong table and several couches and chairs with integrated data terminals. Forward a large viewscreen looks across the long bow of the ship and the surrounding space.

"Actually," says Norton as he walks in with his clunking mag boots. "Let's use that locker. Go get the two gawkers while I dump it."

"Alright, sir." Hennings replies as he heads into the captain's quarters.

Tilting the storage locker over in the zero-g is easy enough for Norton but directing progress to the lift is a bit more difficult. "Help me out."


 * "Cause of the fire is inconclusive until I can get this fucking suit off," says Marcus, leaning on the island of the galley. "Nobody touches a single fucking body - not even to get the captain out of the captain's chair. I'm radioing my staff to get down here and start bagging people and bringing them to my locker to help get you guys operational, if you agree, Captain."

Martin moves over and picks up the bottom off the locker. "Got the stuff working I guess." He strains to say.

Hennings steps back as Marcus comes out, shrugging and heading over towards Norton again.

"We already moved the captain from his chair at the weapon console. He's the guy with the scratches floating in the lift with that sweet set of combat armor," says Norton. "Sorry for busting up your crime scene."


 * "That's fine. I just want as little damage to the bodies as possible before I can get my hands on them in a proper environment," replies Marcus. "I'm actually coming to some conclusions of what transpired medically as shit was going down."

"My guess. Attack. Bridge spaced. Captain rushes out. Two harem girls off themselves," says Norton as he and his help get the locker into the lift. "Captain shoots down the bad guys. Engineer tries to fix systems. Women, kid, dog, die like tits on a boar hog. Girl in airlock prepares for breach. The classroom is the bigger question. Giant thruster like Hancock's. Schematics of suspiciously Hancock likeness."

Command Deck 


 * Cool and pale light streaks through the massive freighter's bridge, darting across workstations and consoles, casting soft grey shadows upon the continual bustle. No matter what watch there is always activity here, the handling of the massive ship requiring continual vigulance. The bridge itself sprawls across the wide bay, each station placed beneath the ship's forward viewscreen, allowing for an excellent view of the ship and the surrounding space.


 * Central are the dual command workstations, set upon a small dias, watching over the bridge as a whole. Running from port to starboard are the is the communications, cargo operations, engineering, navigation, helm and flight control workstations.


 * Telltales glitter bright and colorful, a sharp contrast to the worn deckplates and the exposed gray metal structure. Above the workstations, wrapping three sides of the bridge, is the heavy polycomposite glasteel viewport. The individual panes are set in heavy ribbing, opening out to the dark reaches of space.

Currently, a large hole in the viewport exposes the bridge to vacuum.


 * "The captain raped the women, burned them to death - possibly doing them a favor, really, and then went to die," replies Marcus rather calmly. "I don't think he shot any bad guys."

"How do you rape someone when there's no atmosphere?" Hennings asks as he moves to help Norton.

"Do not lose your grip here," says Norton as he takes the locker over to the hole in the viewport. "Lucky nothing left to vent. Anyone feel like fishing for those bodies floating outside the hole?" He says, "No, the bad guy's ships. He was at the weapon console. No bad guy's made it past the ship's cannons. Looked like the girl's offed themselves. They were holding the plasma pistol, after all. The plasma fire caught the bedding on fire after. There'd have to still be some air left in the atmo for that to burn, so it'd be soonish."


 * "I can say absolutely conclusively they were raped. By the captain of this ship," replies Marcus. He looks at the bodies, giving a distasteful look. "Not really. I'm not going to risk my ass for a bunch of dead people." He continues his assessment. "At some point they were raped while chained to the bed. How the plasma pistol got there is inconclusive, but it was completely discharged - not one or two shots were fired, but a complete cell."

Martin strains to keep the locker under control in the Zero-G. "I'll hold in place?" He asks Norton. The Martian then glances over at Marcus. "Fuck adventure today."

"I still want to know how you rape someone when there's no atmosphere." Hennings comments as he too helps Norton.

"Yeah," says Norton. "They shot up the door. Then bumped themselves off. He probably locked them in when he left. Accidentally left his pants and his piece. I'm not saying they weren't raped. I just don't think the captain bumped them off." He nods to Martin. "Just don't let Hennings catch you in the steelfoam. You won't need to hold it long." He passes Hennings the steelfoam. "The raping happened pre-hole in the ship."


 * "Could have happened pre-ship hole, yeah. But that doesn't explain the hole or the scratches in the captain's legs. I'll no conclusively here soon if the women scratched him or if," he pauses, to look at the captain's legs. "Something or someone else did. And if they were chained down, and he left his piece, the women couldn't have started the fire. They were -very- chained down."

Martin nods and holds the locker in place over the hole. "Maybe the gravity cut out before the air. Pants could have floated to the women." The Martian offers.

Hennings sprays the steelfoam around the locker, careful not to catch Martin in any of it.

"He was in combat armor when we found him, so nothing scraped him after he sat his butt in the chair and died from lack of O2," says Norton. "I'm going to stick with captain has prisoners. Is raping them. Five ships come a-knocking. He comes running in his combat armor, leaves his pants. Women get gun, shoot door, fail, shoot selves, plasma catches bedding on fire. The end of them. Meanwhile captain is up here shooting away at the five ships." He backs away as more of the locker is secured by the steelfoam.


 * "Let's not bring this ship anywhere near Hancock station until I get my lab results back," says Marcus. He's watching his PDA, simply waiting. "Something doesn't feel right about this - let me at least confirm that the actors in our little scenarios were involved, and we're not missing something the labs can tell me here in a few minutes."

"We need power on Hancock, sooner the better. Strange shit happened but I think it ended a long time ago." Martin says letting go of the locker and moving back. He then moves over to a nearby console. "Now lets see what I can do about a manifest."

"We'll take it into New Luna orbit with Hancock. I'll have some claymores provide security and make sure no one gets near it," says Norton. "But we need its reactor. So, you don't exactly have an academic amount of time to figure this out, doc. We're on a schedule." He looks to Hennings, "Think that'll hold?" He gets a nod and moves over to the navigation console. "This is going to be rough. If you want to sit somewhere safer, like the Haste, I understand completely."


 * "Have you checked all the cargo holds, sir? Every box, every nook, every cranny?" asks Marcus, tapping his PDA impatiently. "I'll explain it all once my anxiety has quelled, sir. Only acting in interest of the marine's safety."

"Uh," says Norton as he pulls up the navigation list. "This here ship has some weird nav points. Anyone heard of Dva or Adin?" He tells Marcus, "Nah, man, this ship is 700 meters by fifty meters with a lot of that space in the holds. One of the holds had the funky stuff I told you about, port 5. The first two starboard holds were packed, but I didn't take anything more than a cursory glance. Corporal Paper Pusher is going to have a good time cataloging with his buddies once you clear it as safe."

"I'm no expert but a few years of vaccum would kill almost anything threating wouldn't it?" Martin says, the then turns to look at Norton. "Found the manifest, and I'm plenty ready to lord over my paper pushing brethren once we get home." He says with a smirk.


 * "There are some completely anaerobic bacteria out there. Not to say it had anything to do with this, but if it's here, it's had time to fester for a few years, and now we've given it oxygen and sent it tumbling through the life support system. As thus, I don't want anyone getting sick. We've also added humidity - our bodies are going to get very wet, and smell very bad, very soon. Plus I don't want to discover a strange cache of bodies in the cargo hold. Which has happened in my time in the service."

"Watch your mouth, or I'll put a brand spanking new LT in charge with more idea of how things should work than how they do," says Norton. He continues, "With these weird, Ungstiri claimed nav points I'm thinking this is plenty weird enough. I'd like doc to make sure it is no weirder than it looks. We haven't given it O2 yet. We don't have life support, just the spindrive working."

Martin shrugs at Norton, then turns back to the console. "Sugar, Mining equipment, some basic stuff in the holds. But there is also some more interesting things, mostly guns and gun parts." He says to no one in particular. "Does make you wonder.." The Martian says taking a deeper interest in the manifset.

Hennings has gone to sit at the Bridge's link to engineering, glancing at it and such.


 * "Once we get the bodies out, I'll have my staff run hazmat on it, decon it, and it'll be cleared and ready to go," says Marcus, starting to line up and tie together bodies.

Norton is fairly busy trying to fly the almost but not quite crippled ship through hyperspace. "Right."

Martin continues to examine the manifest while taking some notes on his PDA. He is so engrossed he does not notice the body floating towards him. A stray limb its Martin in the helemt. It takes a few moments for it to register in his head, then he pales slightly. "Missed one Doc." He says pushing the body away and looking at the console once more.

Hennings continues to moniter the ship's readouts "So what all do you think was on the schematics? Looked like some sort of attack plan."


 * Marcus moves over absently, reaching to grab the body and organizing it with the rest. His interest is int he dead people, and much less with the discussion of attack plans and war.

"Well, that red line was a tell tale sign when you consider they had a mock up of a thruster there," says Norton. "And a line on the schematics from a thruster to a command center looking place. The sniper rifle is a stupid weapon to take into a command center, though, despite that being such a fine example of a weapon."


 * "Captain, there's still something weird here. There are plasma burns on the captain's armor - and I'm thinking it over. With the way they were tied down, it is pretty much impossible for them to have fired the plasma pistol at the -door-. Fired it, maybe."

Martin continues to log the manifest into his PDA. He then looks up for a moment, he looks at the others for a moment and then gets back to work.

"There were four schematics, weren't there? Wasn't there one pointing to the asteroid field?" Hennings questions.

"Maybe," says Norton as he gives the storage locker a look as he flies to get into orbit near Hancock Station. "Just had the burns pegged as previous conflict. All the same to me. Dead is dead. I'm not too worried about how they got that way as long as it isn't getting me, too." He tells Hennings, "This is all just guess work, son, unless you can talk to dead people. Way I saw it, was the first schematic was the system with the part of the system the asteroid in question was circled. Then, the asteroid was drawn with the thruster in question circled. The third picture had the route from the thruster to the command system. The fourth, of the star system with the lifeless planetoids and asteroid belts with one planetoid circled, well, you got me. Maybe a goal for what they were going to do after taking the command center. I don't know."

Martin looks up from his console. "Maybe they have some files about it in the mainframe?" He says with a slight shrug.

"You guys are way too curious about the motives of dead people," says Norton. "Everybody ready to get to the Haste and go back to Hancock?"

Hennings shrugs a bit "Sure," he replies, standing from his console.