Log:Space Team, Scene 11

Space Team 2015/09/08 Breach Griffin Quiet 11

Breach shrugs at Quiet and marches onward, climbing off of the dead and headless alien. He looks over at his hand, frowning at the still swollen set of extremities. Flesh may be growing in, but apparently alien digestive slime is something to which he is now mildly allergic, how lovely. Shaking his swollen hand around a bit, Breach slowly forms up proper and starts sweeping around with his particle revolver and his orange-visored gaze.

Griffin follows in line behind Quiet with his sidearm at the ready, his side feels as if it's been hit by a stampede of semi-trucks. He tries not to think about it as his gun and eyes sweep the bulkheads, panels & ventilation shafts surrounding them, fearful of what might lie in wait. He stiffles that line of thinking as well and unshackles his inner child. He's seen Aliens 1-4 and every one of the Predator movies. He knows the mistakes they made. He tells himself that alone makes this a walk in the park.

Breach would also note that we don't have a scaredy-cat lugging around a minigun. That alone puts us in a better position than the Predator or Aliens crews.

Quiet is not a scaredy-cat and does not hold a mini-gun. She continues ahead for Ops, following the curving inner corridor with a brief glance rearward at her team.

The trio continue onwards along the deck plating of the corridor. It turns from the rattle of boots on metal to the squish of a wet surface. The corridor is slick here. Hard to tell with nightvision mode and no reflective lights, but it can be heard.

Breach frowns, pausing a moment to lift one boot and inspect the gummy, gooey resin coating on the treads of his boots now. He promptly resumes the pace, gritting his teeth against the weird tingling pulsing through his hand as it slowly, slowly deflates from its allergic(?) inflammation. On the plus side, Breach can remove 'hunt an H. R. Giger nightmare' from his bucket list.

As the group continues, they hear more muffled screams. Several of them, and close by.

Griffin would smile if he'd have even thought to put that on his bucket list. But he didn't- though this trip has been nothing short of bucket-listable. When Quiet turns to check on he and Breach, he nods and smiles confidently despite the gore all about them.

Though truth be told, he's in a great deal of pain and would rather watch the next scene from the comfort of his own cabin in the middle of nowhere.

There is... a sound. Quiet's armor may never use it, but it does possess audio comms with VOX. The sound is somewhere between a gasp and a hoarse cough, ampified by her suit. She breaks into a dead run ahead and around the bend to the Ops hatch. Which is locked, per her orders. This is now frustrating. What is worse is that it does not open from the outside. She pounds a fist on the hatch.

From beyond the door, a male voice shouts in terror, "Help us!!!"

Breach looks at Quiet, then at the door. His lips curl into a disgusted expression as he nears the door and cautiously starts examining it and the walls surrounding it. This space station, Breach has decided, is just getting to be ridiculous with its explosives requirements. Next space station he visits, Breach imagines he's going to need a separate attache case just for explosives.

Can you ever have enough explosives? This place was meant to be secure against standard assaults. And the Ops center is the control center of the starport. You wouldn't want people getting in.

However...

As Breach inspects the door, he believes if he places charges here, here, and here, he can break through.

Careful study is all well and good, but people are dying. Quiet's weapon alters and reconfigures, bore enlarging. She uses the shifting weapon to push Breach aside; firmly, but not violently. The moment the weapon is ready, she fires a projectile into the latch. Then another into hinges upon the opposing sides. The projectiles embed themselves into the metal and sit, ends blinking with red LEDs. Then, unconcerned by proximity, she detonates the embedded shaped breaching charges. The door is in her way. She does not like the door.

"Or that. That works too," comments Breach over the din of the combined parallel explosion(s). He lifts his particle revolver again and peers through the smoke and haze into the Ops Center, one eyebrow quirked under his helmet.

Griffin whistles softly after the charges blow. "Man, you two really have the best toys." He says waving smoke from his face with his free hand. He keeps his pistol steady, pointing into the mystery beyond.

The door breaks off of its hinges and latches, makes an awful metal groan, and falls inwards with a deafening clang that resounds all throughout the corridor. Ahh, the acrid smell of chemicals and smoke in the...what time is it in space?

Within, there is chaos as the smoke clears from our heroes' visions.

There are nine people running about, grabbing whatever they can to beat off their attackers. Quiet will note she left twelve people in Ops.

What's attacking them is smaller versions of the big nasty aliens they've encountered so far. There's five of these bugs scuttling about. They're about three to four feet high, and lack the giant stingers of their larger counterparts. Instead, they have some other structure at their tail end. It soon becomes apparent what this is for, because one of the small worker aliens is using its digestive mouth tendrils on Ensign Rolley's leg while its many other legs pull a sticky, stringy resin from those spinnerettes. It's in the process of wrapping him up as it feasts on the screaming ensign.

Engineer Pollox and Muller are standing on the consoles, using their chairs to fend off two of the worker aliens as they scuttle towards them. Another alien scuttles along the ceiling, preparing to drop on Comms Specialist Lopez. And the fifth and final one is chasing after other members of the staff.

Griffin is glad he only eats once a week or else he'd have probably needed new pants by now. No amount of training Earth-side circa 2015 could prepare anyone for this. He changes trains of thought again, and focuses on the many people injured and the many more in dire need of his help and prepares himself for extermination duty.

There is ... that sound again, as Quiet violates her namesake. Gnawing and wrapping up her crew? Not on her watch. While she does note the lack in the rapid head count, she doesn't want to drop any further, so she'll deal with it later. Her weapon modifies itself again at her command. Time for more close encounters.

Breach, were his helmet not in the way, would be goggle-eyed by this point - certainly his jaw is agape - as he stares at the scene straight out of Aliens going on in the Ops Center. He is at a loss for a one-liner at the moment, instead trying to remove the word 'FACEHUGGER' from its jammed position in his brain. It hurts to have a logjam of thought, don't you know? Not to mention it really interferes with killing FACEHUGGERS!

Quiet's first extermination victim of choice is not the one webbing and chewing, if just for risk to the crewman. She instead turns to one being held off by a chair and looses a controlled burst.

The controlled burst strikes true, training keeping that control despite the dire urgency of the situation. ET does not get a phone call nor a trip home, but an express elevator to hell. Going down.

The engineers, and its companion, may also get a spattering of bug goo as the creature disintegrated under the deluge of high-velocity slugs.

Whilst Quiet opens up with her almost-certainly-not-a-pulse-blaster, Breach cocks the hammer on his particle revolver again. As the particle accelerator spools up, the red pilot laser lances across the Ops Center to paint the same target as Quiet. Breach immediately takes a knee and lifts his gun arm upward, taking aim at the damned dirty FACEHUGGER skittering across the ceiling.

There is the by now familiar sound of the particle revolver discharging. A bolt of orange energy and accelerated particles sizzles down the ionized airway created by that red laser. Quite impossibly, the blast nails the upside down FACEHUGGER just behind the base of what passes for its skull, creating a small shower of bug juice before the highly energetic blast launches the FACEHUGGER's corpse across the room to *SPLANCK* off of a view screen to rebound messily off of a console before it hits the ground, still smoking and twitching as residual electrical charge courses through its fried body.

Griffin rolls to Quiet's right and takes aim with his sidearm at the second squirmy EBE. 'Ha! EBEs for targets! BEST DAY EVAR!' He thinks as he aims down his iron sight at the second alien being fended off by a chair.

He leads it and pulls the trigger with practiced precision,the gun glows as the intense heat of the laser beam is discharged.

The bugget trying to chomp on Muller gets blasted by surprise by Griffin. It rolls across the ground and curls up into a ball, its outer shell glowing red and smoking.

The spinner lifts its heads from munching on a leg. The tendrils draw back into its mouth and it grabs its victim and starts to scuttle backwards quickly, dragging a terrified crew members with it.

The chasing alien halts chasing after another crew member and looks towards Quiet. It rushes at Quiet in a charge rush.

Quiet was intent on firing, but doesn't object to the scrambling thing not scrambling well enough. Oh? Now it wants to get up close and personal? Fine. She can do that. She pulls a hand free of the trigger to hold her weapon by the stock. A field of gravitic distortion, a linear near-singularity forms for her to slash at the thing with.

Quiet's swipe is off-balance, and perhaps some of that control vanished. She slices the air, and nearly her own leg with her swipe. She could well be cursing, but does so in her head.

With Ceiling FACEHUGGER dead and smoking, Breach's attention shifts toward Rolley who is now getting dragged across the floor toward an open vent. Breach clucks his tongue and grabs one of the tactical black cylinders off of his combat harness with his still inflamed hand. It feels like trying to manipulate a grape with his hand shoved inside of a Christmas ham.

Muscle memory, however, proves to be greater than HAM HAND. Breach pops the pin, takes aim, and heaves the grenade at the spot where he hopes the FACEHUGGER will be momentarily, interrupting its attempt to flee. In flight, the spoon flies off sideways as the grenade spirals through the air to ricochet off of the open vent and skid toward the FACEHUGGER's face, whereupon it explodes into what appears to be a ground level thunderstorm.

Instead of ricocheting off of the vent, the grenade goes ricocheting off into the vent system. Power flickers as the shock canister goes off in a cloud of electricity and electrically active smoke somewhere deep inside of the vents.

Griffin moves with purpose as he changes targets, pointing his gun at the spinning 'bugget' dragging away his hastily wrapped meal.

"Oh you don't want to run on a full stomach." He says with a smirk. He squeezes the trigger and the beam blasts out at his target.

Quiet curses again. Though it's still in her head, it still makes her feel better. This time, she drops her rifle in order to take another slash at the thing. It's not terribly wise, but maybe it will also make her feel better.

Slicing up the air does NOT make Quiet feel any better. In fact, it just pisses her off. More.

Watching Griffin stun another FACEHUGGER - and, more importantly, watching one of his grenades get wasted - sets Breach to twisting toward Quiet. He watches the FACEHUGGER dancing around the gravitic(?)-blade(s?) that Quiet has levied against it and swings the particle reolver around, cocking the hammer. Immediately the red pilot beam lances across space to paint the target.

"Yippee-ayo-kai-yay, mother****er," sternly intones Breach before he pulls the trigger on the particle revolver.

Griffin's aim strikes true, hitting the web-spinner square between some of its many oddly placed eyes.

The creature tries to take another step before it has the good sense to fall down.

Griffin heads toward the wrapped victim missing a leg with a STIMpak in hand.

As the pulse of crackling, sizzling orange energy and highly energized particles crosses the scant intervening space, Breach takes a moment to survey his surroundings. There are several stunned creatures, a few dead ones, and some horrified/wounded crew members throughout the room. Breach's attention shifts back to the FACEHUGGER as it's blasted off of its multitude of feet, electricity arcing over its carapace as radiation and heat bore a gaping wound in its side and completely incinerates the tissue connecting two of its legs to its "torso".

Ooze *SPLRCH*s out of the creature, once on first impact and again impact with a wall.

Breach stands up slowly, spinning his particle revolver around his index finger before he lifts it so he can *PFF* the smoke rising from the muzzle away. Looking around the room again, Breach promptly holsters his gun and instead unsheathes his combat knife. He quickly makes his rounds, cutting the little bastards to make sure the stunned ones don't ever regain consciousness - or what passes for it.

"That, ladies and gentlemen, is why we keep god damned weapons with us at all times. Every god damned frontier we run, half-assed, into as humans is /TEEMING/ with things that want to kill us."