Log:Space Team, Scene 17

Space Team 2015/10/14 Breach Griffin Quiet Malcolm Indira

17 "I'll hold the perimeter, you guys start patching the ship," calls Breach. He unsheathes his combat knife and walks over toward Malcolm, who is no longer actually in touch with the deck plating. Malcolm is, instead, precariously balanced on bug carapaces - they are five deep in some places under the Pyle's wingspan - as he engages in Street Fighter and/or Mortal Kombat shenanigans with a seemingly endless stream of these alien things.

Breach walks up behind the bug whose mantis claws and stabby tail Malcolm is busily fending off with an insanely long series of whirling parries. The Undead Soldier rams his combat knife into the joint between the bug's head and its torso, wrenching the blade clean across to one side. A geyser of green slop erupts out of the gaping segment wound and the creature is finished off by a lone iron-encrusted fist to its exoskeletal noggin, sending the skull skittering and rolling across the top layer of bodies to slosh to a stop in a thick puddle of green goo.

Malcolm looks at Breach and offers a friendly smile - Breach, needless to say, does not return the smile - before he *SPROING*s toward the entry ramp for the Pyle. Quiet and Griffin might be able to slither into the ship through the hole that the worker alien chewed, but there's little to no chance of Malcolm fitting his big ol' self through that little hole.

In the background, as Malcolm boards the ship, one can hear Breach screaming, "MORE BUGS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! MORE GOO FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

Or maybe you've just been staring into the Warp for too long. Maybe Breach actually said something like, "Please hurry and fix the ship! I don't know how long I can hold these things off!"

Quiet is aware of the breach in the hull. That would be the chewed hole, not the Breach that is still outside the hull. That is only one factor of many and she moves to the cockpit to run a systems diagnostic on the shuttle to determine if there are others they need to worry about. Fried avionics, partially digested thruster, or an empty fuel tank would all make the additional ventilation a moot point.

Griffin nods as Breach takes Malcolm's position guarding their asses from the slowing onslaught of the alien horde.

'These guy's don't take a hint.' He thinks to himself as he heads for the Pyle.

He looks up at the hole in the ship as he passes by it, as he too is too large to fit into the small hole.

Griffin keeps his pistol level and towards Breach's position just in case the 'Undead Soldier' needs a second.

He decides that chances are he'd be of no assistance with getting the ship fixed. He's a soldier not an engineer or a mechanic.

He decides to hang back just short of entering the ship to watch Rick's 6.

Indira is still leaning against the wall of the shuttle. In sync with Breach's knife burying into the last alien and Malcolm knocking off its head, Indira flinches and shivers, squeezing her eyes shut. She's repeating herself in her own language, then slides down to the ground, just collapsing into a seated position. She curls her legs up against her chest as she tries to filter out all the deaths she just felt.

Violet is panting and stops swinging her helmet-bludgeoning-weapon.

Quiet receives a few glaring red flashes on the schematic with the status query, but not as many as they could have. Landing struts? Not necessary for lift off. Second engine? No need for a short flight when speed and maneuverability are not required. That just leaves the atmo-sucking, unshielded hole. They might be able to find enough suits for those without them, but that would take time. Time they probably don't have.

She heads back to the main cabin, shoving the worker bug back away from Violet and Indira and making sure it's still netted. Noting that Indira is still quivering, she puts a gloved hand to the ambassador's shoulder in a passing attempt at comfort, if brief. It's brief as it's on the way to the ramp to check on their security situation and update the others. The update? A point to the hull breach, then covering her pointing hand with her other, and lastly a thumbs up.

Indira at least stops her mumbled mantra at Quiet's touch. The killing has stopped for now, the death-pangs of bugs have stopped assailing her mind. She's still curled up on the ground, but now she's silent. Her eyes slowly blink open, but she just stares sorrowfully at the access panel across from her.

Breach is busy keeping the exterior of the Pyle SAFE FOR DEMOCRACY! Or something.

Malcolm, meanwhile, climbs aboard the Pyle proper and, whilst Quiet is informing the other spacemercs of their prediament, Malcolm inspects the damage reports. He makes a few grumpy noises and takes a moment to grouchily peer up at the hole in the ceiling. Lightly he runs one hand around its perimeter, considering the hole the way one imagines a sculptor considers a piece of marble.

Forge realizes: Well, the hull breach obviously means the heat shielding is bunk along with the chances of maintaining oxygen in the hull. Even with space suits, you guys will burn up on re-entry if you can't plug this hole. Usually with the tools, material, and time, you could patch it up properly and fly her home, but you don't quite have those at hand.

Quiet slaps on the side of the Pyle with an armored arm to get the attention of the remainder of her team. She then looks to Malcolm who's studying the hull breach, tapping on the control pad on her right forearm with her left hand. This calls the usual screen-like holo display over her arm with a simple, but very important question in large text. CAN YOU PLUG IT LONG ENOUGH FOR US TO MAKE PLANETFALL?

"If I had time and tools and material, this'd be cake," replies Malcolm to Quiet. He frowns a little bit, stlll staring up at the hole in the hull as he folds his arms across his chest. Leaning backward just enough to start him rocking to and fro from heel to toes and back again, Malcolm hems and haws in silence over the fabricational quandry in which he finds himself.

Quiet taps a few quick, curt keys. WE DON'T. FIND A WAY, QUICKLY. She takes up a position at the hatchway to provide overwatch security. They may have saved the shuttle for now, but there's no telling how many more of those bugs are on the station and could be incoming.

Quiet also waves to the partially-opened bay door to get the attention of the shielded survivors and motions Breach and/or Griffin to escort them to the shuttle, double-time.

Malcolm ponders the emergency situation. He's pretty tough. Probably tougher than the outer hull of the ship. He's space worthy. And he's bigger than the hole. Hmmm. Maybe if he puts his back into it. Literally. Sure, why not? He could plug the whole with his metal encased self. He just has to face outwards--oh wait, int roll, hahaha, almost forgot--I mean inwards for air. This might just be crazy enough to work?

Malcolm fussily stares at the hole in the ship. When Quiet returns from signing orders at Breach and Griffin, she finds Malcolm very carefully tucking himself into the hole in the hull. Liquid metal is already starting to flow over his body to protect himself as he struggles to cram himself into the hole properly.

"Gonna need someone else to pilot the Pyle back to Earth."

Quiet looks back to check Malcolm's progress... and startles. Stares. Well, he definitely gets high marks for improvisation and thinking outside the box. She gives him a thumbs up, possibly also as a response to his comment. While Breach and Griffin can handle getting the survivors onboard, she steps back into the cockpit. A moment later come sounds of the engine firing up.

Meanwhile, the survivors are waved to the ship and escorted safely aboard the shuttle. Many sigh in relief. A few gasp at the netted bug.