NationStates Jolt Archive

CCS Lozola, on route from Krioval to Akusthana

Ooc: okay, so yeah, for those of you that are interested this takes place right after Krioval’s Cleansing thread… and like Krioval I have an idea of where I’m going with this, so if you want to come in as another nations ship, or some other interloper, feel free, just remember that I might need to slow down if you throw me a really difficult bone to handle…

“…So she stole it?” Chief Felev Ofakusthan Kaldfasth asked as he watched the front screen. Captain Leho Ofkalamarg Kaldsurvath nodded.
“At least according to Garl,” Captain Leho went on with the story, “And the worst thing about it is, she doesn’t have her drivers permit.”
“Aye, I know,” Felev said, “a woman like that could drive a man to drink.” He took out a small flask of Temonte Liqueur, taking a small taste. Leho gave him a nasty look. “I’m off duty, Cap.”
“Yeah, well,” Leho began to lecture, but was interrupted by the com officer.
“Leho, incoming transmission,” the young officer said.
“If it’s the Kriovalians, tell them where well out of their space and we don’t need an escort all the way back to…”
“Excuse me sir, but no,” she said quickly. “It’s a distress call, text only.”
“On Captain’s Screen,” Leho said, “Stop drinking, your officially on duty.”
“On Cap’s Screen, Aye Aye,” she responded.

To All Ships in Range: This is the Transport Ship Kotwend. We Require Immediate Assistance. Ship damaged beyond repair. Co-ordinates Follow:

[Rel: Akusthana-234884995903945-1000398485:567389999098-389493003094:293898494949-28939849494949]

Ship Adrift. Send Help.

“Damnit,” the Chief swore, “I’ll saddle up the other Highlanders. We might need an extraction team. They seem to be Akusthan. They have a Akusthan name and are giving co-ordinates relative to Akusthana”
“Yeah,” Leho turned to the com, “Call up Councilor Garl and contact the ship if you can.”
“It may be difficult, skipper,” she worked her computer, “they seem to have some damage to the communications array.”
“Do your best,” Leho turned to the screen.

“I don’t care,” Helen said as she pushed her way into the elevator, “Its boring down in our room. Not even a kitchen to cook in.”
“Eat at the cafeteria,” Garl said, with a large sigh.
“No, the fried chicken is all… icky,” Helen sighed as the elevator came to a start.
Garl Ofkalamarge Wetakusthan Kaldwes was not pleased; he had looked forward to a quiet trip home, but here he was being called up. And his wife wanted to come; lucky, unlike Krioval where she had enjoyed stealing cars and attempting to destroy tanks, she was more in her element. Helen had done some shady work in her past, and because of that she had unofficial ‘rank’; somewhere between a captain and an admiral. It was possible that she was the unofficial ranking officer; it would have to depend on Leho’s will power.
The elevator came to a stop, and the couple stepped on the bridge.
“Garl, Helen,” Leho said, “Is there suppose to be an Akusthan transport vessel this far out.”
“Not that I am aware of,” Garl said, “Akusthan trade ends well before here.”
“Well we just received a distress call from one,” Leho said.
“Interesting,” Helen said.
“Strangely enough we can’t find it in our records,” Leho noted, “Which means they are probably pirates.”
“Piracy,” Helen said. “Interesting.”
“Yeah,” Leho sighed and made a large shrugging geasture, “Listen, these guys probably are going to talk to a lawyer. And…” He grimaced. “We may need somebody with special skills to help make them… un-rowdy… so I might need either one of you guys.”
“Are you asking for my help?” Helen said. “This is better then when I stole the government car.”
The Captain gave her an annoyed look. Then he turned to his Navigator. “Set course for that ship.”

”Approaching vessel, Captain,” the navigation officer noted.
“It looks like an ancient ship, Leho,” the young com officer noted. “Nobody’s used this sort of design in Akusthana for… Well, not for three thousand years, since we first arrived on the home world.”
“Before the fall,” Leho noted.
“Before the fall,” the com officer agreed.
“Can we teleport in?” Helen asked.
“No, too much background radiation,” the com officer said.
“Then we’ll have to take a carrier,” Chief Felev noted. “I’ll get the carrier ready.”
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Helen said absently. “Anything else you can tell us?” she asked the com.
“The ships appears to have suffered an engine leak,” the com said, “those old vessels used to run on nuclear power plants, you will probably have to shut it off. But nothing the extraction teams tech specialist can’t handle.”
“Alright,” Helen said, “Anything life signs?”
“I can’t narrow it down,” the com officer explained, “but there’s something alive in there.”
“Human?”
“I can’t tell, but if not human some sort of terran creature,” the com officer said, “No aliens for you, ma’am.”
“Darn.”

“You alright, Hellfire,” Felev said, as the carrier took off and left the ship.
“I hate technology,” Helen said, popping some stomach medicine. Helen had grown up in a Convent, where the Sisters of St. Kames had pounded into her martial prowess; but it had an unfortunate side effect. Helen had, for example, never laid eyes on a car till she was twenty-one. She was heavily effected by motion sickness. And she nearly threw up in her helmet as the carrier docked to the Kotwend. “I hate technology,” she said one more time, as if it would all disappear.
“Open to door,” Felev told one of the solider. The carrier clung to the side of the ship, hooked up to the dock. The soldier opened the carriers hatch and looked at the ancient airlock. He pressed a few buttons and the door creaked open.
“Holy god,” Felev said. A wave of humidity swept into the small carrier. “Somebody’s been playing with the environmental settings.”
The extraction team, six Akusthan Highlanders and Helen, stepped into the air lock. The second latch for the airlock lay open.
“Well,” Helen said, “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t use space suits to get over here, we would have ejected all the air.”
“Yeah,” Felev noted. The inside of the ship was covered with rust. Everything seemed to be in decay. “Has definitely been playing with the environmental settings.”
“It reminds me of the Convent where I grew up,” Helen noted. “It was extremely humid, right on the coast.”
“Yeah, well,” Felev said, distracted as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “Kay, Team two make your way down to the command sector. Me and team one are going down to the engine room to asses damage.” He turned to Helen. “Hellfire, you scout the rest of the ship out. Keep quiet.”
“I always do,” she said with a sinister chuckle.
“Take a gun,” Felev said.
“No, its against my training,” Helen said, annoyed, “You know that Chief.”
“Aye, I do,” Felev gave her a small smile, “Can’t blame a man for trying.”
Helen snort, and walked off into the shadows. She would contact them when she was sure that the rest of the ship was secure.
“Okay,” the Chief said. “Lets move out.”

Garl came on to the brigde of Lozola. “Good news, everybody,” Garl said with fake enthusiasm.
“Why do I get the feeling we’re going to be doing more work,” Leho said.
“I just got off the phone with Duke Vren,” Garl told the Captain, “The Kotwend is a historic find; we’re ordered to tow it to Akusthana.”
“Yeap,” Leho said, “That would be more work.”

The three Highlanders walked towards the command center. One of them, Sheral who was taking up the behind, sniffed the air.
“I smell something,” she said with a grimace.
“Yeah,” Krek said. “That stinks.”
“Water,” their team leader, Jon, noted.
They looked down the hallway and saw that foul smelling stagnate water had flooded it.
“Sheth,” Sheral swore, “Why does it always have to smell when we do stuff like this?”
“Lets keep going,” Jon said. They pushed through the foul smelling water.
“God above,” Krek said, looking into the shadows that fill the ceiling; behind him he could hear a small splash. “I feel like something is watching us.”
“Calm down,” Jon said, “Thinking like that gets you killed, stick to your training.”
“Yes Jon,” Krek said.
“Hey you buggers,” Felev’s gravelly voice came over the radio, “Got some good news for you. Where taking this piece of crap with us, so while your down there tap into the navigation array. We’re going to help hook this thing up to the Lozola.
“That’s just great,” Krek said, ”More work.”
They kept walking, when Krek realized something “Hey Sheral, how are you doing back there?”
There was no answer.

“There’s way too much radiation even to approach it sir,” the techinicans explained. “I don’t think this is the power source that is powering life support.”
“A generator?” Felev asked.
“Yeah Chief,” the tech answer, “it’s the only way.”
“Well no dinky little generator is going to be able to power the navigation away…” the chief noted.
“Uh, Chief,” Jon’s voice came over the radio. It had a nervous sound in it.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Sheral dead.”

Helen lurked through the hallways, keeping to the shadows. She didn’t, however, look like she was particularly afraid of being found. Years of sneaking around had taught her that people often look for hidden things; the secret to not being seen was, therefore, not to hide, but to become what nobody was looking for. Or at least that’s the way Helen thought; and it seemed to work for her.
But still, she felt a presence. And the presence felt her. So far, however, neither was really able to ‘find’ each other. They were simply… aware.

“Jesus, I’m tired of this sheth,” Felev kicked the wall. He turned on his radio. “Okay, everyone, meet back at the airlock.” He turned to his communications specialist. “Call the ship, tell ‘em we got problems.”
“Aye, Chief,” the soldier said.

“We need to move out,” Jon said.
“God Jon,” Gerg said, his voice tinged with hysteria, “her neck is broken.”
“Calm down, Highlander,” Jon said.
“What the hell could do this?” Gerg said, as Jon pulled him down, back to the airlock. Gerg followed, and then he heard a small splash.
He whipped around and aimed his weapon, only to find that he had pointed the gun at Helen.
“Sheth man,” she pushed the weapon away, “Next thing you know you’ll be screaming like a little girl.”
“Ma’am,” Jon said, “We must return to the airlocks.”
“Yeah,” she said, “Something’s in this ship. A person.”
“A goddamned murderer,” Gerg almost shouted.
“Stop it Gerg,” Helen scowled, “act like a Highlander.”
“Aye ma’am,” Gerg said in a subdued voice.

“Great,” Leho said,” Just great. Get Beta Squad down to the second carrier.”
“There’s no other places to dock Leho,” the com officer noted.
“Tell the extraction team to get to their transport ship,” Leho said, “if they get into armed conflicts, I’ll send in the other team. We’ll cut a hole into the side of the ship if we have to.”
“Aye aye,” the com officer said, and got to work.
Garl stood at the side, a worried look on his face.
“Don’t worry Garl,” Leho said, “She can take care of herself.”
“Yes,” Garl said, “So they say.”

“Remind me to take a shower,” Helen said as the pushed through the water.
“Sure, ma’am” Jon said.
“Whoever is in here is pretty quiet,” Helen mused, “Keep your ears open.”
Helen was using her training to banish her fear away the best she could; still hints of it played at the edges of her mind. But she focused on being aware. Apparently it paid off; she felt the wind on the back of her neck as the murderer made a move to end Helen’s life.
Helen was able to avoid the dirty hands grasping for her neck. Grapping a dirty arm, Helen used the attackers momentum to throw whoever the creature was. He or she landed hard.
Which was unfortunate; because after so many years of water seeping into the metal structure, and the life control system trying to pump the water out of the hallway and exposing that metal to air, the supports to the floor where all but rust. So the impact did what years in space and exposure to water and oxygen had failed to do; the floor fell from beneath Helen’s feet. She and the murderer feel down into the next floor of the ship. Helen made sure that she hit the floor with her arm moments before hitting the ground, to break her fall; still she was a bit disoriented when she rolled up. The stranger was there, watching her cautiously now as filthy water fell from the level above. Despite being covered in filthy rags, Helen could tell that the stranger was a woman. The stranger let forth an inarticulate scream, and jumped towards Helen. Helen did not let go off her training, and was able to predict the stranger’s movements, allowing her to dodge the rage driven punches and kicks. But the stranger was able to dodge Helen’s blows as well. For a few seconds they kicked and punched with out hitting anything. The stranger was sloppy and driven by fury, but she had been trained in some form of martial art, and much of the skill she had developed had become second nature. Helen, however, was betting that her skills combined with a clear mind would win out this day. Those first few seconds passed and the two began to truly exchange blows. Helen was unable to fully block a kick and felt a sharp pain in her temple. She drove the pain out and used a momentary weakness, as the stranger’s leg was still in the air, to drive a punch. Although it was not a hard punch (for Helen at least), the stranger was unbalanced and fell to the ground. Helen fell upon the murderess and locked her in a sleeper hold; Though crude and dangerous, Helen guess it would be the easiest way to take the creature down. She may have been right, but ‘easiest’ did not translate into easy. The stranger struggled, and clawed at Helen’s hands, tearing into the skin. She also (and Helen was never able how at that angle the stranger could have) kicked her hard in the rib cage. Helen hung on, until finally, the stranger stopped struggling.
The entire conflict seemed to last forever to Helen. But it had lasted hardly a minute. Jon and Gerg looked down from the upper level at Helen.
“Ma’m,” Jon said, “Do you need any assistance?”
“Gee Jon, how did you know?” Helen snapped, dragging the stranger up. “Give me something to bind this bitch with. God look at what she did to my hands. And tell the Chief we found the killer.”
“Aye ma’am.”

OOC: Tag. Would you mind a few Orks getting onboard the ship and doing some exploring of their own? I'm thinking six tops, along with a small raider. Here's part of my first post, to help you decide. I've cut it off at the part where the Orks get onto the ship.

IC:

Several thousand miles from the derelict ship, reality took a brief holiday as a ship disgorged itself through an Impossihole. Coming back with a nice tan, reality promptly went back to work and plugged the whole between two points in space, taking a trillionth of a second to remark how ugly that ship was.

And indeed it was. The basic frame was rather boxy, over which crude armor plating and a surprising amount of guns had been bolted. Two large engine nodules took up almost the entire stern, and it was quite apparent they had been torn out of some other ship and bolted on in a most haphazard fashion. The prow was truly fearsome, made to look up like a snarling beast; arguably the scariest thing about it was the large railgun clenched in its ‘jaws’. The sensation of crudeness extended inside the ship as well, and in no better place was this demonstrated than on the bridge. Skulls twirled lazily on stings tied to overhead pipes, and filth covered every flat surface. Consoles struggled bravely to stay online, though all would eventually short out in an cloud of sparks and smoke.

The ship’s krew were almost as ugly as its exterior. They were Orks of the Broken Chain clan; dark hulking beasts that almost always wore a sullen expression, in contrast to the wild-eyed psychotic look typically held by their cousins. Hunched over in their chairs or idly kicking sniveling Gretchin around, they went about the tedious business of moving an Ork lite dessie in a bored stupor.

Only one of the lot seemed truly interested in the ship in front of them: their kaptain, Nob Ulgfrakker gro-Drogol. As a nob, he was the biggest and most violent of the bunch, but what made him truly dangerous was the smoldering hate-driven intellect typical of his Clan. He was one of the best Kaptains this side of Solomon, and he planned on acquiring a true dessie, or maybe even a kroozer first chance he got. But being an Ork, he just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to salvage something. An intercom built into the side of his command throne crackled to life, an Ork yelling that “senzors sees sumtin on da udder side of dat big ship.” Ulgfrakker couldn’t tell if the Ork was excited or simply compensating for the lousy wiring of the ship, nevertheless he ordered engines cut. Now gliding along on inertia alone, the dessie slowly approached the freighter, emitting only negligible energy readings.

OOC: Orcs in space? I'm guess your a... whats it called... warhammer 40000 player or something... Well, seeing how Akusthana's next door neihbor is being run by a psychotic Beaver, Orcs might be a refreashing breath of normalcy for the Akusthan... feel free to sneak in your orcs before my next post, I usually post in the evening, since I am busy during the day, and right now I'm only posting once a day, which might pick up as my work load goes down or as I grow bored of other things, but still, i apologize if my posts seem slow....

IC:
"I could have swore something just poped on my sensors, Leho," the Sensor officer said.
"The radiation may be causing some glitches," Leho noted, "But keep an eye on it."
And for some reason, Leho suddenly had a flashback to his mother telling him stories about the Uglek, foul creatures that would sneak up on unexpecting travellers and eat their bones. He shook his head, and gave a small chuckle: the Uglek where only fairy tales, after all.

OOC: Not a player of the game, but my Orks are essentially WH40K, without some of the more unbalancing aspects (ships measured in meters instead of miles, aren't really fungus, etc). And slow posts are fine, I can be rather spotty as well.

IC:

The pilutt watched the radar-screen with wide, yellow eyes. If he didn’t do this just right, not only would they all be mashed to a pulp but the Nob would eat him…The distance between the dessie and the freighter quickly ticked off. 500, 450, 400, 350, 300, 250, 200, 150, 100… Now! The Ork slammed his hand down on the retros button, igniting a series of rockets on the front of the ship. Luckily only a few misfired, arresting the dessie’s speed enough so that it gently bumped up on the freighter. The Pilutt let out a sight of relief as his Kaptain, giving a grunt of approval, left and went down to the torp room.

Thirty minutes later Ulgfrakker and five of his personal bodyguard were suiting up in the torpedo-bay. Most of the Boyz were arrayed in only the most basic of ‘ard armer, cobbled together over the years of pirating. Ulgfrakker on the other hand had a rather impressive collection, showing off bits of Power Armor from at least 12 different nations. None of it was powered anymore of course, but it still made a formidable metal shell. Behind them roar went up as the Meks hefted the last Bordin’ Torp into its slot, crushing only a few Grots in the process. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to let go of a guiding line too early, and thus send the twenty ton rocket rolling across the room. The Cheef Mek rushed up, saluted awkwardly, and reported that everything was ready.

Knocking away a Gretchin who was vainly trying to make his armor shinier, the Nob addressed his boarding party. “Now listen up. We donts want to smash up anyting in dat ship too bads, since we’ll probably be needen it laterz. Senzors say dat der’ be sum udder ship on da udder side, so they’ze might got peoples aboards. If yooz see anywun, smash ‘em. Weze get enough slaves already.” The Orks grunted their approval, eagerly fingering their Choppas and sluggas. Turning, Ulgfrakker led them into the boarding torpedo.

As soon as the Cheef Mek threw the switch, the modified torpedo shot out from the prow of the Ork vessel, crossing the small gap between the ships in seconds, and thoroughly imbedded itself in the hull of the freighter. Saws and cutting torches went to work, although the craft had reached well into the outer corridors. Luckily it was a tight fit, keeping the ship’s atmosphere intact.

A steel-shod boot kicked open a hatch on the front of the torpedo, allowing Ulgfrakker and his Boyz to clamber out into the corridor. Ulgfrakker was immediately struck by how humid it was, reminding him of his time spent on Oshdai huntin’ stunties. But this was no time for reminiscing. Giving his hand flamer a test-burst, the boarding party tramped down a corridor leading into the ship’s interior, the floor creaking ominously under their feet.

Helen had acquired a small room to put the stranger. Felev stood out near the door, the stranger sat in the middle of the room on a box, her hands bound behind her. Helen looked at the creature, and swore.
“Okay,” She said, passing back and forth, “What’s your name?”
The stranger looked at her in wonderment. Large dark eyes looked up at Helen without understanding.
“Where did you train?” Helen asked, “You fight like a Kamsan warrior.”
Nothing.
“Why did you attack us?”
Nothing still.
“Does she even understand?” Felev asked.
Helen almost snapped at the Chief. She was not happy with this stranger. But then she realized something.
“How many years have you been alone here?” she asked the stranger quietly.
The stranger looked up at her, something clicking in the back of those dark eyes.
“One year.”
No response.
“Two years.”
“T-t…ee….n,” she croaked out.
“Ten years,” Helen said.
“Jesus,” Felev swore quietly.
“Ten years,” the stranger, “and…theeeen… the… voices came and kept me company.”
“Voices,” Helen was confused, “Hell, forget it. What’s your name?”
“Geran,” she (Geran) said.
“Why did you attack the Highlander?” Felev asked.
“She wouldn’t listen,” Geran said, with a small smile, “She had silly ideas in her head. I had to take them out, but she wouldn’t let me. She just kept silly thoughts in her head.” She looked at Helen. “I had silly thoughts like those, but my friends helped me to overcome them.” She bent forward and whispered, “The woman at the convent where wrong. You don’t need to do penance for those times between; you never did anything wrong; death is part of life.”
Helen jumped back, startled. “Lord,” she said, crossing herself, “Lock the door.” She told Felev. “Keep a guard outside.”
“What if she sneaks out?”
“I’m afraid she’ll kill somebody if I let somebody watch her,” Helen said.
She stomped outside of the room, Felev followed, shutting the door behind him, and bolting it shut. Then something shook the ship.
“What the hell, did we just get hit?” Felev asked.
“I don’t know,” Jon said.
“Get the second team down here,” Felev shouted at the communications officer, “It never just rains, it has to goddamn pour.”
“Oh you know you love it,” Helen said, “Lets unhook Alpha carrier, and replace it with Beta carrier. I’ll catch a ride back to the ship with little miss psycho in there.”
“Yeah,” Felev said.
Helen unlocked the door and looked inside.
“Damnit, she’s gone,” Helen swore loudly.
“You know you love it,” the Chief laughed.

The boarding torpedo far behind them, Ulgfrakker and the boyz continued into the bowels of the vessel. They avoided flooded corridors, after their Boss had fired a slugga-round into the floor of one and caused a miniature cave-in. From then on they stuck to dry ground only, though the plates did creak and sag a little under five 450-pound Orks in armer.

Suddenly one of the boyz stopped, sniffing the air with his flat nose. “Wat iz it?” inquired Ulgrakker. The Ork shrugged. “‘Oomans?” He shook his head. “Can’t say fer shure. Too much gunk in da air.” Ulgfrakker was about to berate him for wasting their time when a dark shadow flirted across a corridor leading off to his left. Doing what any red-blooded Ork would do, he immediately turned and unloaded his entire Slugga clip down the passage. The other boyz, always spoiling for a fight, instantly followed suit. Now more than a half-dozen large caliber pistols were blazing away, shells tinkling onto the plating below.

Finally the last gun clicked empty. The dank odor of muck-water had been replaced with the sulfuric smell of gunpowder, and while it had been an exciting diversion Ulgfrakker wanted to know if they had actually hit something. Unclasping his ‘eavy Choppa blade, the Nob advanced down the corridor, the boyz following close behind.

Back onboard the dessie, the pilutt did his best to keep the freighter between his ship and whatever was on the other side. Being on the tail-end of a year-long raid, they were low on munitions and supplies, barely in fighting condition. Gingerly flipping a switch he activated another retro rocket, moving the ship down a few more meters.

She, Geran, watched with big light filled eyes as the creature, (Uglek?) shot down towards her position. The green skinned things, with tusks and muscles, filled with anger and hatred, continued to fire their toys (made for boys) into the hallway. But she was safe (of course), and she smiled as the last of the beasts (pretty Ugleks, green is so lovely) emptied their weapons.
Children, The Voice thought, Children of Sauran. Come to me, and find that death which you so deserve. He was a fool anyways, wrapping himself in that piece of metal; so are they.
She laughed at that old ancient Voice, out loud. It was an eerie disconnected laugh, and Geran (she could project her voice, like a man with a puppet-doll) let the laugh bounce off the walls, play in the corridors. She let the great one, with the sword, catch a glimpse of her, and then slipped quickly into the shadows, towards her rooms (where she came to sleep and play with her toys, especially the new green and pink ones)

“Get the other team on this ship now!” Felev shouted. “Jon, go with Helen back down to the command center and get me some sensors.”
“Aye sir,” the communications officer said. Helen and Jon bolted to the command center. Felev could hear the Alpha carrier pull off the side of the hull. About, minute later, their was a dull thump as the second carrier hooked up. He then heard gun fire through coming from somewhere in the ship.
“Jesus,” Felev swore, “Call the Lozola and tell them where not alone here.”

“So she caught the stranger, and then she lost the stranger, and now somebody is firing guns,” Captain Leho said into the microphone.
“Yes Leho,” the Highlander on the other end answered.
“Hmmm,” Leho said, looking at Garl.
“I don’t think their friendly,” Garl said, “And Kriovalians probably would have said something.”
“Okay then,” Leho said, “Signal General Quarters. Prepare weapons, then take this ship around. Their must be something on the other side.”
“General Quarters, Aye Aye,” the com officer said, her hands sweating.

Jon felt Helen push him down hard.
“No offense ma’am but what the-“ Jon stopped talking as Helen clamped his mouth shut. She pointed down into a door that opened into another hallway. Gunfire suddenly erupted, and some thing, some beast, wandered lumbered past the door way.
“Holy sheth,” Jon whispered. “Uglek.”
Helen nodded; “look at the big one. He’s covered in pretty metal. He must be here to win the beauty pageant. Awww, poor princess, you’ll never win Miss Congeniality with that attitude.” She smiled. “Lets go to the command center. I want to try something.” She gave an evil chuckle.

OOC: Choppas are usually heavy axes, though for RP purposes Ulgfrakker's does look more like a sword or cleaver than anything.

IC:
The Choppa flew through the air, tumbling end over end before finally embedding itself in the corridor wall. Despite its crudeness, the heavy blade still managed to sink itself up to the handle. Ulgfrakker stomped up to it, wrenched it free, and scowled. “Nuddin.” In the dim light of the hallway he could see numerous blast-marks from their sluggas; the wall was practically riddled with them. He listened to the laugh slowly fade as it echoed down the darkened hallways, until finally the only sound left was the shorting out of wires severed by the fusillade. “Nuddin,” he repeated. The boyz trudged up slowly, afraid he was going to snap and kill one of them. But the Nob simply shrugged and stuffed the heavy blade back into its scabbard. “Don’t know what weze dealin’ wit, but it moves too fast ver ah ‘Ooman. Trog, Prazzer,” two of the boyz perked up. “Yooz stay here ‘en watch our backs. Da rest of yooz come wid me, we goin’ after dis stoopid ting.” Sliding a fresh clip into his Slugga, Ulgfrakker and the three boyz stomped off in the direction their prey was last seen. Trog and Prazzer also reloaded their guns and went to standing idly about. One sniffed the air absently.

*** *** ***

A Gretchin let out a shrill scream as the Lozola came over the top of the freighter. “Ship! Ship!” he cried, jumping up from his trash pile and clambering up the Nobz Kommand Throne. “Go fasta!” Before anyone could stop him the panicking creature slammed both fists down on the red button on the throne’s arm. Everything and everyone not tied down, including the Gretchin, hurtled to the rear of the compartment as the engines, thrusters, verniers, and anything else capable of creating the least bit of thrust thundered to life. The dessie instantly went from ship to a very large missile, rocketing forward at incredible speeds.

Unfortunately it rocketed straight into the side of the freighter, crumpling the bow section and a good deal of the freighter’s hull. Skidding along the curve of the ship, the dessie shot upwards into the underside of the Lozola just as it cleared the horizontal axis. Power immediately failed as the two ships collided, further adding to the pandemonium onboard the Ork vessel. Gunners, unaware of what was going on, stumbled blindly to their stations and let loose with whatever they had. Many simply blew themselves and their krew up as shells detonated in jammed breeches, but many more let loose a firestorm in every direction.

“Leho an alien ship…” the com officer didn’t finish before the Alien Ship’s rockets woke up and sent the ship hurtling into the Kotwend. “Leho its coming at us!”
“Pull back!” Leho shouted, then he felt the ship violently shake. The lights went out for a moment, then emergency lights light up.
“Holy sheth,” the tactical officer screamed, “Their firing at us.” The ship continued to shake. “Holy sheth, their firing on every thing.”
“Back the ship up,” Leho shouted above the sound of crashing machinery and klaxons, “Open fire. All proximity guns fire.”
“Opening fire, proximity guns, aye aye,” the tactical officer yelled back.
“Damage reports from levels 9-11,” the com officer noted, “2 hull breaches, where venting atmosphere in sections 9 Charlie and 10 Romeo. Closing off sections. Engine room reports multiple damage, but they say that the core is still complete and we can leave anytime we want.”
“Tell engineering thanks for the subtle hints, but we have to extract our teams,” Leho said.
“That may be a problem sir, I just lost my connection to the communications array.”
“Then go and get it back,” Leho said shortly.
“Aye aye, going Leho,” the com officer said nervously.
“If we can’t leave, then blow the bastards to bits,” Leho snarled.

The Lozola backed up and let loose with its smaller guns, designed to cause damage at short range. Using the torpedoes and the Cannons at this range risked the destruction of the Lozola. So the ship backed up, hoping to get away enough to open fire with more powerful weapons. Small crystal shards ripped into the Uglek vessel’s hull, exploding as they just pieced the hull, and larger spear like shards where fired, in the hope that the larger shards would be able to hit vital systems and explode.

“Okay,” Helen said, “give me audio through out the ship.”
“Are you sure this is wise,” Jon asked.
“Very few things I do can be classified as wise,” Helen said with a chuckle, “Ask me about the time I stole a floating car one day.”
“You have Audio, Hel,” Jon said.
“Thanks,” Helen said, grabbing the mic.

Helen’s voice echoed through the ship’s systems.
“Hey, Ugly Green Ugleks. That’s you Princess in the power armor. I gather you’re not too big on wisdom, but it would be wise to leave this ship.”
Felev looked up at the intercom and swore.
“Well we know that she’s at the command center,” He cursed some more, “Send down a team to get her back.”
“Any ways, Princess,” Helen continued, “That thing your chasing is not good for your health, so I would just-“
Then something hit the Kotwend.

Helen was tossed to the floor.
“What the hell?” She asked.
“Something hit us,” Jon got up and checked the sensors. “Something that looks like a ship.”
“I guess they don’t like being called princess,” she said, holding on to a chair for support.
“Now where being fired on,” Jon noted as the ship began to shake and rattle.
“There’s no way this thing is going to survive being fired on,” Helen sighed.
“Yes, Hel,” Jon said, in that stupidly calm voice, “We need to contact the ship.”
“Can you do it?”
“I, theoretically, but the Lozola is not answering any of my hails.”
“Then lets blow this Popsicle joint,” Helen said walking through the door. Jon followed after her.

She could hardly contain her joy when she watched the Ugleks pass under her. One, two, three, four. Four was the special one right now, the one of the end. She picked up a rusty thin pipe she had found and sharpened years ago.
Back in the old days, back at the convent, with all the silly nuns, one of their lessons was being able to throw a spear through a boulder. The point was to learn humility, since only a few masters could perform the feat, and only two women among those. But she had trained and practice till she could. The answer did not lie in strength, but like all things in Kamsan martial arts, in momentum. In one swift quick movement, she fell silently behind the last Uglek from the air vents above and threw her spear, using every part of her body to fling it. She had been practicing on the ship, and Geran was fairly sure the spear would kill the Urglek. Unfortunately, before she could discover, she was tossed to the side by the collision. She used her movement to her advantage and tucked into a roll, disappearing into another near by hole that lead back into the ventilation.

(ooc) hmmm, wonder where Greenskinz went

OOC: Just been busy. I'll try and post tomorrow.

The Ork dessie shuddered under the Leho’s hits, its gunners returning fire randomly. Emergency lighting flickered on throughout the ship, alleviating the darkness a little. Meks scrambled into the gun decks, working feverishly to repair damaged weapons and get the frontal armament working. With their bow smashed, the Orks had lost most of their firepower; now they had to rely on the smaller and less numerous side gunz.

The ship’s pilutt untangled himself from the heap at the back bulkhead, scrambling forward to the kommand throne. He jabbed the red button repeatedly, hoping to get another ram attack in. Unfortunately the engines were overheated, and all his pressing did was shower the engine room Meks with sparks and flames as they struggled to get them back online. The dessie was dead in the water and could do little but trade fire with the enemy.

By now the remaining gunz were firing at their normal speed, pounding the Leho with railgun shots and missiles that barely had time to arm themselves before striking. Gretchin rolled heavy shells up from the magazine and Orks hefted them into breeches, allowing the primitive plasma guns to fire.

*** *** ***

The sharpened pipe sailed through the air, embedding itself in the Ork’s back just as the ship gave a lurch. The Ork bellowed as he was thrown against the wall, scrambling back to his feet and blazing away down the hallway. He probably would have kept shooting if he Boss hadn’t gruffly asked why he had a pipe sticking out of his chest. The Ork looked down, a surprised look passing over his face. Grabbing the protruding pipe, he calmly pulled it out with a minimum of grimacing.

The hole oozed dark red blood, and had probably punctured something important, but none of the Orks seemed concerned. Most had suffered worse; Ulgfrakker himself had lost an arm on two separate occasions. An Ork with his head blown completely has been known to continue fighting for three minutes before expiring.
Fortunately the curious nature of Ork physiology allows them to recover from wounds that would kill a normal human, often with surprising speed.

No one was reflecting on Ork biology right now though. The skewered Ork wanted to go down the hallway and find whoever had the gall to attack him, while Ulgfrakker wanted to find the ship’s bridge. He was getting worried about his dessie, and wanted to make sure it was still there. Eventually the Nob prevailed, and the troop began trudging off again, the trailing Ork lazily poking the hole in his chest.

OOC: busy, yeah, I understand... I've hardly had a moment this week to myself... I'll try and post later today though

Geran glanced at the Ugleks retreating, and stared at wonder. He’s still alive, she thought to herself, How is that even possible.
Find a better way to kill them, moron, the Voice screamed in her head.
And yeah, she knew a better way to kill things. After all, there was a lot of toys on this ship. She crawled away from the Ugleks until she found a computer panel. She typed in the access code, and began to go to work.

The Lozola was now at such a distance that it could fire its heavy weaponry.
“Open main cannons,” Leho shouted at the tactical officer.
The cannons sent capsules full of super heated plasma, with tiny shards of razor sharp crystal floating amongst it. The shells then burst against the hull of the Uglek ship.

Near the communications array, Santra Ofkalemarg, the officer assigned to the com, feverishly worked to restore communication with the Kotwent. She swore as one of the wires sparked with energy. But she managed to rip it out, and hook it into her small portable computer.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, hooking up her microphone to the small computer. “Guys can you here me?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Guys can you here-“
“Yeah, yeah, we got you, what the hell is going on over there?” a voice said.
“We’re under fire from an alien ship,” Santra said, “Get the hell back here. We need to retreat.”

“Sir,” the techinicans said the Felev, “Lozola is under attack.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Felev said impatiently, “Tell ‘em we’re leaving as soon as possible.”
“Sir,” another Highlander shouted. “The hallway to the command center just collapsed.”
“Jesus, it never just rains, it pours,” Felev swore, “That means Helen and Jon are…”

“Trapped,” Helen said after she was done swearing at the pile of metal supports that blocked her way.
“Guess we got to go through the Ugleks,” Jon said.
“Maybe,” she said. Two Ugleks where just standing around.
Then a rusted voice shouted in Akusthan. “Emergency. Co-core ov-overheating. Ship will be destroyed in approximately-.” The Computerized voice cut out before it could finish.
“Damnit,” Helen fumed, “Things just got a hole lot more difficult.”
She looked down the hallway.
“I’m going to do something stupid Jon,” She said.
“What’s that ma’am?”
“I’m going to distract the Ugleks,” She said, just before she took off running. “You can sneak back.”
She turned the corner, running as fast as she could towards the two Ugleks left over. She tucked her self into a ball and rolled under one of the Ugleks feet. She knew that it would be only seconds before she was being shot at, so she kicked off a wall as soon as she was through the Ugleks legs and pushed her self into a near by room.

(OOC: Well, it still says "open", and I figured jumping in now would probably be the most obnoxious time. :p )

"I wonder why their ship just stopped there?" Kiv asked. "After last week's mess, I'd have thought they'd fly away from Krioval as fast as they could."

"Yeah. Especially Garl! I think Helen might've stayed on for a few more days, if only to stir up more trouble," Darvek added.

"Can we get them on communications?" Raijin asked.

"I can try," Koro responded. Without waiting for instructions, he typed in the frequency. "Hail Akusthan ship! Is everything all right out there?" Getting bolder by the second, the new Diplomatic Director continued on, "Raijin actually made me Diplomatic Director! And Tevak and Sakira got married last weekend. Uh..." his speech slowed as he became acutely aware of a total lack of response. "...do you require assistance?"

The others looked on, concern becoming evident on their faces. Something wasn't right up there. Hoping the delay was simply due to a malfunctioning commlink, they waited for a response.

ooc: sorry, had some rather stressful days

Santra gasped at the sound of the Kriovalians. She almost forgot how to speak English for a second, and shouted "Thang kot zu sveg!" Then she realized who it was, "This is the CCS Lozola, we are under fire from an Alien vessel" she said in heavily accented English. "I repeat-" Unfortunately, before she could continue, a small explosion occured and she was thrown down, unconcious.

OOC: It's all good.

IC:

The Diplomatic Director almost fell out of his chair. "The Lozola's under attack!"

Raijin looked square at Koro. "It's that woman," he said. "Get Special Forces out there. Damn space extractions."
---------------
Johan Ten was enjoying his first break from active duty in three years when the call came. His girlfriend Teresa was the first to get the news. "Gods damn it, Johan!" she screamed from inside the beach house. "Do they sit there in Command and wait for us to take a vacation?"

"Let me talk to 'em."

"I swear, I have half a mind to march right up to that smug Raijin's house, knock on the door, and sock him for this!"

"He's a tee-kay, Teresa. Telekinetic. You'd get about that far," he used his thumb and index finger to indicate a very small distance. He went to the communications console. "This is Johan, Command. Where to this time?"
------------
The six fighters departed Kriovalian orbit half an hour later. Of course, they arrived instantly at their destination. Transdimensional drives were useful for that. When they popped out of some higher dimension, they quickly surveyed the area, pausing only to activate the craft's shields.

"Commander of Lozola, this is Johan Ten, from Krioval. Please respond."