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IC:

• • • — — — • • •

The signal carried on….

• • • — — — • • •

And on…..

• • • — — — • • •

Into the deepness of space

• • • — — — • • •

The large Halcyon-class Cruiser (http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff213/mokastana/pillar_of_autumn.jpg?t=1208391498) was anything but working. The hull was at the bare minimum to ensure integrity, life support and guidance equipment had already been sacrificed though not without resistance. Therefore any scan of the hull would show that it had been abandoned long ago. Through the sides huge holes had been made by what appeared to be Rail gun anti-ship fire. In total three 60 inch holes had crashed into it. The bridge had been turned into a crater under the ship, as the engines were blown out by the two that slammed into the back. All it was running on now was momentum through space. How it ended up on a course towards a large star three light years out was a mystery, but then again, this ship was full of them. Every so often another chunk of scrap metal would flake off and float into the deepness of space. Any other time it could be just written off as scrap metal floating around to be pirated or used at for target practice, except something on the ship was still running, something powering enough energy to send out the SOS signal stored on the ships emergency systems.

• • • — — — • • •

The faint Signal continued as the flying wreck continued on course….

Through the depths of Space Squad 4452 moved on patroll. Squadrine leader Kejia Aarie at the lead with her comrads Ausha and Shia. The girls were having a friendly chat over the radio.

"Hey anyone see the Polaris Flair last night?" Ausha asked

"No I missed it, how was it?" Kejia said.

"Incredible, don't worry Kejia I managed to capture it on Hologram."

The beeping signal came in. "Quite."

"That's morse code. Shia?"

"Sounds like CQD? No no SOS, it's an SOS signal."

"Someone is in serious distress, obviously their communications are down. Shia can you lock on?"

"Roger, Kejia standby."

She tapped the screen like crazy. "Locked, I'm loading the coordinats into our systems now."

"Recived, Shia, follow my lead." The three space planes made a hard right and headed for the ship.

"That must be it."

"Look at the size of it!"

"Cut the chatter, keep your eyes open."

"Kejia, I'm not seeing any physical damage."

"I'm not either. Let's dock up. Get ready we could see some company."

Captain Christopher Archer, commander of the Setulanite Republican Navy (SRV) ship Hammer sat in his command seat as he looked out over the bridge with a severe eye, checking for any imperfections. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he leaned back in the comfortable chair (his crew constantly wondered how, no matter how relaxed his pose was, he always seemed to have an iron rod in his back) and looked at the system chart in front of him. Blank space, with more blank space.

It was his belief that any sort of exploration was a mistake on the part of the Council of Leaders, but he was a good officer, and good officers said "yes, sir" and carried out their orders to the best of their ability. His signals officer jerked up quickly, disturbing Archer out of his reverie.

"You haves something to report, Ensign?" His voice was distant, uncaring; he had earned a reputation during the Great War as being completely calm under the most strenuous conditions.
"Yes, Captain," said the Ensign excitedly, "I am picking up a signal near system XIIV-34, about three light years out from the star. It reads 'SOS', sir."
The Captain took that impassively.
"Engineer?"
"Seventy eight minutes to intercept, Captain." Archer nodded.
"Navigator, set us on an intercept course. Signals, respond to the message. Ask what kind of state the vessel is in. And wake up Major Hersfeld-we may need his men."
The captain returned to his calm contemplation of the chart. Time to see what the Council's policies would result in.

The ship was damaged, though they may not of seen it from their angle of approach everything on board was dead, minus one signal. As Space Squad 4452 closed the gap towards a small hanger on board they might notice that parts of the external hull were either missing or had dark metallic chunks just hanging off the side. Life support was down, anyone who boarded would either need to find a way to bring it back online, or just live in suits the whole time. The Hanger was barren, dark, and about 300 meters wide open. Launch doors had no doubt been removed or destroyed. Lifeless pieces of what could of been a crew station were left in the corner, but as of now they were the only vehicles in it. If they were to get out and look around many of the directions and signs inside the hanger would be in both Mandarin and English. Doors leading further in to ship had also appeared to be missing, but on further examination they might find out why.

Secondary control room

. . . . . . . .
>>Sending signal "SOS"
. . . . . . . .
>>Sending Signal "SOS"
. . . . . . . .
>> Incoming transmit "UNKOWN"
>> Shall I put them on Main screen
<< y
>> Of course
. . . . . . . .
>> Main screen disabled, trying hologram,
. . . . . . . .
>> Hologram disabled, trying audio
. . . . . . . .
>>Audio Disabled, trying text
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
>>translator is down
>>restarting translator
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
>> Incoming message:
. . . . . . . .
>>"FROM: SRV Hammer: state issue with problem"
>>Shall I respond?
<< n
>>Very well, Hopefully they get here soon

On the bridge, Archer was informed of three unknown contacts in the sector. Remembering a vicious fight against loyalist forces in what was a virtual ship graveyard, he sourly reflected that space debris was a magnet for trouble.
"Try to make contact. See if they know anything about this ship.
"Sir, I'm getting a signal from the damaged ship...garbled though, sir. I can't clean it up."
"Very well. Sound general quarters."
The harsh klaxon rang across the ship as crewmen scrambled for their battle stations.
***
Major Hersfeld whistled softly as Hammer came into visual contact with the badly battered alien ship. Looking out the view ports, it was clear that it had taken a serious beating, and gaping holes stood out along its flank and superstructure. The only life signs were from some control center, and those faint. He turned towards First Sergeant Lucas Sampson.

Sampson was a legend in the Setulanite Navy. After lying about his age to join the Republican Guard when he was fifteen, he fought in some of the closing battles of the Great War, being decorated for valor on three occasions. Transfered to Naval duties, he had fought in seventeen seperate ship-to-ship boarding actions in twelve engagements, was decorated eight more times (once by President Maxellian himself) and had the record for most confirmed hand and knife kills (103). Privately, he knew he also had eighty seven shooting kills. The fact that he had kill 190 men did not bother him at all anymore. Now 67 years old (early middle age for Setulan), he reflected that he was most likely about to meet all 190 again, very soon.
"Alright, Sampson. You know the drill," said Hersfeld.
"Aye aye, sir. Get fired out of the ship into a breach in the other vessel, find the control room, kill it if it is hostile. About sum it up?" Hersfeld smiled.
"About right." Saluting Sampson, he abandoned military protocol and gave him a hug. "Good luck, Lucas."
Nodding, Sampson got into the launch bay.
***
Archer got on the vox and signaled the other ship.
"This is the SRV Hammer, we are sending over a crew member at this time. Please respond, I repeat, please respond."

Secondary control room

>>Incoming transmission "SRV Hammer"
>>Shall I put them on main screen?
<< Y
>>Main screen still not active.
. . . . . . . .
>>Following pre-learned pathways
. . . . . . . .
>> translator active
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
>>"This is a SRV Hammer, we send crew member the time. Please respond, repeat, please respond."
>>Shall I respond?
<< Y
>>CAPTAIN OVERRIDE, NOT AUTHORIZED TO RESPOND WITHOUT COMMANDER PERMISSION!
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
>>Captain not found
. . . . . . . .
>> Second in Command not found
. . . . . . . .
>>CO not found
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
>>No personnel with authorization found
>>canceling override
. . . . . . . .
>>Responding:
. . . . . . . .
"This is Haily, The ship's AI command center, welcome, please state the nature of your arrival"
. . . . . . . .
>>Translating
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
>>Sending text encoded

Archer frowned slightly at the message, equivalent to a gasp of shock from a person with less self control. AI? Soulless life was forbidden by the oldest of Setulan's laws-even the Great War had not changed that. Regardless, the Captain picked up the vox transponder.

"We are launching a crew member into a breach in your ships hull. He will be aboard in...fifteen seconds. Give him all due respect...remember that we are here to help if you require it." What would happen if respect was not given was implied.
***

Sampson saw the red numbers count down from ten. Sighing, he checked the screen over his right eye-suit integrity, weapon integrity, ammunition status, all flashed across his retina. He just had time for one more fatalistic sigh before he was launched into the void towards the alien vessel.
Five seconds of flight time. Five seconds that stretched into an eternity.
With a grunt, he grabbed on to the jagged metal of a hull breach. Hauling himself inside the dark ship, he unlimbered his combat shotgun and switched on a lamp pack. Moving slowly, he advanced into the bowels of the ship.

The girls instantly boarded by docking up their ships. Ever so cautiously they moved through the ship. "Kejia, I'm picking up odd signals from here." Shia said.

"Electronic?" Kejia asked

"Affirmative. But my scope is faint, but they could be coming from the Ships Bridge." Shia responded

"Is anyone aboard?" Kejia asked.

"Not picking up any life readings."

"All right let's move, can you find the best route?"

"I sure can try." Shia said.

"Ashua?"

"We're locked and loaded, K."

She handed them their assembled riffles.

"Let's move. Be on the look out for anyone or anything dangerous!"

"Roger!"

"We are launching a crew member into a breach in your ships hull. He will be aboard in...fifteen seconds. Give him all due respect...remember that we are here to help if you require it."

The response took a few minutes. As the AI was far slower then it had been at the beginning.

"What is respect? and due? I cannot find a suitable replacement in the translator. As for help, many raw materials would be appreciated. The engines are down."


Inside the ship

The first replicators had stayed still and motionless and "dead" as the new ones boarded the ship, running a quick scan once the crew was out they learned the generals of the ships they brought in. Perhaps helpful. Deaming the biologicals a minor threat they spiked up the energy in the control room, hoping to lewer them deeper in and away from the ships. Once they deemed them far enough off 30 small robotic spiders converged on them. Their goal, replication, and finding a suitable transport to get off this dead ship.

As for the crew the occasion replicator would pick up on their scanners, then relay the signals back to the secondary command center, to their scanners, it would look like the ship had detected people as was trying to come back online.

The path lead them to the hanger storage areas. Crates of high explosives and nuclear devices were about, many ripped open and floating around. Empty shells from a 9.5x40mm machine gun were scattered in the cold debris. In a corner was a comm unit, dead. However with luck they might find something to reactivate it.

A random hole

As he grabbed on the scrap metal he loosed a small spider like machine from the wall, it floated off away from him. Hitting the wall it scanned him, sending the message back to the others around the ship. Down the hall from his opening would be the crew quarters for the engine rooms. Beds with tattered sheets, a few rifles, both bullet and plasma, tools, galore, comms devices with missing batteries. Nuclear powered clocks.


So far they had been found. Now to just pull the pray in.

"Suffice it to say that we expect our crewman to be treated properly while on your ship." Archer said. "And moreover, how can raw materials be of help? We read no life signs on your vessel. If you have no crew, how can you repair your engines?"

***

Sampson's shotgun twitched in the direction of a strange scuttling noise that faded away quickly. Cautiously, he advanced, gun slung at his shoulder so that any way his head faced, so did the shotgun.
"This is Sampson. No life signs. Proceeding to hatch one."
With a sudden, brutal kick, Sampson knocked the hatch off its hinges and covered the room with his shotgun. Beds, placed in neat, orderly rows, went down the corrider for as far as the eye could see. Rifles and ammunition lay among the ripped bed coverings and floated around freely in the zero-gravity setting. Taking a hand off his shotgun, he grabbed a floating black object.
"Seems like a comm unit, no batteries. Room is clear, continuing to hatch two."
Thirty seconds later-
"Scratch that, hatch two is gone, I repeat, it is not there. High powered something musta hit the engine room, cus all I am seeing is space, with a few ripped up pieces of scrap metal. Proceeding to engine room."

HAILY translated and sent a message back:

"We need materials to repair the engines, which currently are not connected to the main network. So i cannot tell you the state they are in. However the ship droids on board should be able to make some use of the materials.



The hallways were barren of anything remotly useful, where heating units used to be were now empty pipes in the wall, melted off. Scanners and camera units suffered the same fate. However the engine room would be a different story. Inside the engine room the blast from the rail gun had exploded. causing the nuclear reactors on board to rupture. Nuclear Fire had burned out any living thing. Skeletons could be found holding on the melted railing, however the slightest touch would break them into a thousand pieces. many already had been busted. Welding and makeshift containment centers could be seen on the sides of the reactors where they split open, almost as if something tried to repair them. In case they ever came across Uranium again.

However a functioning comms device sat unused in the control room safe, which for reasons unknown was still pressurized. A glowing red light on the door handle lit up the words: PRESSURE UNSTABLE. A Dead comms like with a working battery was in the hands of a skeleton in front of the door.

bump?

ooc:sorry I didn't post sooner, I'm learning the hard way why junior year is the most difficult...

IC:

The Republican Guard troops watched the holoscreen intently as they followed Sampson's movements in an eerie, first person manner. A few soft whistles came out when they saw the barren waste that was the engine room.
"Musta overloaded," said one Guardsmen. Others nodded.
"High rad levels...I'm thinking a catastrophic engine overload. killed everything." Sampson's voice cackled over the vox. He gently nudged a skeleton with his toe, and it dissintegrated instantly, floating away in particles of dust. Snarling a curse, he moved on to a glowing red light. Finding some leverage, he tugged at the panel. It wouldn't budge.
To hell with it, Sampson thought. Enough subtle tactics. He raised his shotgun and blew off the hatch cover with 00 buck shot. Ripping the now useless cover off, he found a comm unit with a friendly green light blinking at him.
Finally. Something that worked.
He picked up the comm unit, pushed down the tranciever, and put it to his helmet.
"This is First Sergeant Lucas Sampson, 4th Republican Guard. Is there anyone on this ship?"

OOC: college or high school?

The comms unit beeped at him, the small screen read:

(Please Enter Passcode)

The desk had a few reports, many with different titles:

Engine room Diagnostics

Electro-Chemical Stability

On board Droid repair Log

Codes for comms units

ooc: highschool. whatever, at least it's almost over.

IC:

Mumbling a curse, Sampson dropped the reciever, which floated away. Sifting through the code manual, he found TRANSMISSION-ENGINE ROOM and punched in the code on the tranciever. He hefted the mike again.

"This is First Sergeant Lucas Sampson, is there any life form on this ship?"

***

Captain Archer frowned slightly at the message. He turned towards Major Hersfeld.
"Prep shuttle 3 and load it with titanium and plutonium, maximum contamination protection. You assign an escort." Hersfeld nodded and went off as Archer picked up the vox mic again.
"Alright, Hailey...we are sending a shuttle with nuclear material and scrap metal to your hanger bay. Have them met." He took his finger off the transmit button.
"Weapons, give me firing solutions on the dorsal ion batteries on engines, hull, and the location of the broadcast. The smallest sign of treachery, blow them away."
"Aye sir!"

***

In hanger 1, Shuttle 3 left its mooring with three crewmen, twenty Republican Guard, and a ton and a half of raw material for the crippled vessel.

The Comms unit came to life with the entered code: TUB GIRL, a mechanic a year back had programmed it as a joke, but everyone was to lazy or busy to change it, so it stayed.

"Welcome," The comms unit spoke then on the screen it lit up:

Scanning channels.......
ONE......
INACTIVE
TWO.....
INACTIVE
THREE....
INACTIVE
FOUR.....
INACTIVE
FIVE......
INACTIVE
CHECKING EMERGENCY NETWORK......
INACTIVE
............
............
BROADCASTING ON ALL NETWORKS

OPTIONS MENU:

SWITCH TO ANOTHER NETWORK(15)
RECORD MESSAGE
RECORD TRANSMITTION
HEAR RECORDED TRANSMITIONS(1)
ACCESS SECURITY NETWORK
ACCESS SECURITY OPTIONS


_________________________________________________________________


"Alright, Hailey...we are sending a shuttle with nuclear material and scrap metal to your hanger bay. Have them met."

"Thank you SRV Hammer, I will activate any droids I have in the area, I do not detect any personnel on board to make the repairs or to meet you. Please understand, however I am to inform you that in the event of my repair and return safely to a Mokan World you will be rewarded by the Federation of Moka."

_________________________________________________________________

On the side of the ship a few more parts flaked off, many off into the abiss of space but a few towards the SRV Hammer, made up of the same materials of Haily's ship. with a few trace elements of something else, nanotechnology if you will. While the break off seemed random they were heading straight for the Hammer at a nice speed of 15 miles an hour, something any harded shell could resist.

Sampson, with some degree of trepidation, selected to hear the recorded voice transmission.

***

"Sir, some debris heading our way," said one of the ensigns from his station.
"Any danger?"
"No, captain, but it might get a little bumpy."
"Very well then, ignore it." He picked up the vox mic.
"We do not do this for reward, Hailey, though we would like to have some sort of contact with your empire. But while we are on the topic of your home world, what happened to your ship?"

***

Shuttle 3 burned retros as it settled gently into the hanger bay. with a pneumatic hiss, the doors slowly opened.
"Alright, boys," said the Sergeant in command of the Guard, "Be ready for anything..."

OOC: you do know that life support is out and there is no air on board?

"We do not do this for reward, Hailey, though we would like to have some sort of contact with your empire. But while we are on the topic of your home world, what happened to your ship?"

"What happened to New Dawn is classified by override. As for contact, my long range communication is no longer usable. I do not detect it. It could be damaged or removed."

___________________________________________________________________

The Comms device beeped as the message was selected. It was dated four years and seven months ago. It started out as static but then the conversation began:

"Hey smith, do you got the information on whether or not I will get off this ship?"

"Jason, you know that I cannot give that to you."

"Come on man, look I need to get off of here, I was not meant for space work."

"You have lasted this long, I don't see why you are bitching now."

"I am suppose to get off on Curona, but my papers got mixed up. If you help me get off of here I will owe you the verse man, come on."

"No I cannot allow you off without the proper paperwork. There your stuck here!"

"GOD DAMN IT YOU KNOW THAT I NEED OFF"

-click-

-beep beep-click-

"God damn it he hung up one me"

"Who did?"

"That bastard smith Now how am suppose to get the Spank off-"

"Shut up, these conversations are monitored you idiot."

-click-

END OF MESSAGE

_________________________________________________________________

The debris hit the side of the large ship, though rather then bouncing off they stuck to the side via secreting a sticky substance. Opening from the debris were robotic spiders. The spread out on the side of the ship, using the sticky substance to analysis the materials the ship is made from as well as melting it just a bit, for the substance was both sticky and acidic, years of research into one weapon. Absorbing the materials they determined it to be replicator worthy and thus burned deeper into the side, searching for any signals being sent. Others raced over the sides looking for a nitch or opening to the interior. Total spiders were 7.

_________________________________________________________________

Inside the engine room where the HAILY had ordered them to enter in was barren, radiation leaked and the patch was still loosely on, though it had been improved since the last man had walked in. Two little robots, scooting along rolled up the unidentified ship in the engine room. Both were heavily damaged and one had a text screen on it.

"This is HAILY, I do seem to have a shortage of bots, However if you leave the materials here I can start minimal repairs."

bump

ooc: vacuum suits. all the republican guard/lift crew have them...specifically, all the Guard are trained on an airless moon. Hence why they are so comfortable in vac suits. (sorry I don't have a factbook link yet...I still need to post it)

IC:

Sampson frowned as the message shut off. Something wasn't right, and his years of instinct were telling him to get off the ship while he could. Reading his mental impulses, the screen over his left eye flashed the location of the hanger bay where the crew was just starting to unload materials under the careful scrutiny of their escort. Leveling his shotgun, he drifted in the direction of the Setulanites.

***

On the bridge, a new ensign was at the damage control desk. Bored with his task, he simply wrote off the bumps against the ship, and didn't even bother to tell his superior.

Inside the room the desk stood with more files and information inside of it. The drawers were locked, but nothing a good thief or brute force couldn't get passed. Inside was PDA with a recording on it.

Outside the room a few spiders clicked connected to walls and sides of the dead ship, monitoring this new species that was looking around. Under them the two driods still functioning began to melt away at the materials being left and transporting pieces over to the nuclear reactor and welding them on in seemingly random places. Overhead a few spider-bots floated downward, folded in on eachother to look like debris, they landed on the top of the transport ship and began melting away at the roof, replicating with the materials they were stealing of the outer shield.

On the larger ship, the seven spiders had hacked into the network, scanning the electrons going around they learned that many channels were encrypted, but they got a general layout of the ship. They melted further in, replicating on the side, growing to 10 then 12, they were looking for a mantience tunnel, and hoping that there would not be a mass decompression when they broke in.

ooc: the closest thing to a maintence tunnel are the torpedo bays in the front of the ship. And since the ship is in battle stations, they will already be decompressed. just an fyi.

IC:

Entering the hallway, Sampson heard scuttling from the walls. He leveled his shotgun but couldn't see anything. With even more caution than before, he quickened his pace to the lifter.

***

A bump on the roof of the lander got the attention of the boarding crew.
"Ah, crap. More debris. This thing is a death trap, we need to get out of here while we can." The sergeant rounded on the trooper.
"The hell you say. We aren't leaving without Sampson. And for that comment, you can get your ass on to the roof and find out what hit us." Grumbling, the trooper complied and launched himself out the ship. He got to the roof and gently floated up. Then he saw the spiders, and the red glow from the ship as it melted.
"Oh, shit!" He raised his weapon and fired a burst of .45 from his rifle at a cluster of spiders.
"Hostile contact! Hostile contact on the roof! Engaging!" The guardsmen still in the ship reacted instantly.
"Secure the vessel!" roared the sergeant. One squad immediatly opened fire on the damaged drones, and another launched themselves onto the roof to aid their comrade.

***

On the bridge, the warning of hostile contact echoed from the speakers.
"Captain Archer, sir!"
"Not now, son! Weapons, sound off!"
"Port guns, aye!"
"Starboard guns, aye!"
"Torpedoes, aye!"
"Dorsal Ions charged, sir!"
"Good! Match bearings and prepare to fire!"
"Captain! We have been hacked!" Archer froze.
"Oh, my god..." He gathered himself quickly and picked up the vox mic.
"Hailey, this is Archer. If you do not cease your actions immediatly, we will fire. This is your first and only warning."

"I'm sorry archer, I am not making hostilities, however my two drones did report being under fire before I lost contact with them. My guns are down, so is my engine, and any offensive capabilities. Also what does:immediatly, mean?"

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

On the side of the ship, the now 16 robots had detected the sudden mass of signals and what they assumed was full readiness for an attack. They melted as far as they could into the ship, eating small tunnels into the side of the hull (assuming its thick enough) replicating as they went, they were making a decompression tunnel, a tunnel that would, once they broke into the main ship, would stay together and funnel the air our without to much damage to the ship.

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

The spider splintered into tiny blocks as it was blown off, as they floated off many started to pull back together. Only the most damaged ones floated off unmagnetized. The other spiders jumped off to attack the man firing at them, tearing away with their acid concentrate and razor sharp "teeth" from the walls nearly a hundred spiders flung off towards the transport and squads of men, forming a floating wall of robotic spiders.

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

In the hanger where the other team landed the craft were already hacked and loaded with spiders. Hacking into the controls they launched off into the vastness of space. However they would be masked by something much more dangerous, what appeared to be the side of the ship, was nearly 400 spiders, who had been falling off the ship as it went through space, now, seeing a threat, they all jumped off the old ship to land on the new heavily armed one. It was a long shot, but they had numbers, some would miss, but some would hit. No doubt this would be considered a hostile action.

ooc: what other team? do you mean the guy who posted one thing then left? I thought we were just disregarding him...but I dig the plot twist. And also, I'm totally down with you trashing a lot of my Republican Guardsmen/ship crew...but I would like Sampson to live.

IC:

The guardsman's armor survived the first and second acid bursts, but a third hit him squarely in the visor. Screaming as his face melted, his suit decompressed explosively, send bits of grey matter and blood floating into the bay. A second guardsman smashed aside one spider with his rifles stock before being burried under a mass of metalic insectoids. His screams echoed in the intercom as he died. The sergeant in command of the detachment saw the situation was hopeless.
"Damnit! We may all die here today, but by god we are going to take some with us! Fire at will and kill them all!"
Gunfire echoed throughout the hull as Setulan's finest made their last stand.
"For the Republic!"

***

On the bridge, Archer had once again regained his composure.
"All weapons, fire at predetermined targets. I should have known better than to trust in false life." All across the ship, gunnery officers fired their Macro cannons at the crippled vessel.
"Captain! We have a hull breach, sector five!"
"Very well. Send guard units to sector five, prepare to repel borders. To all gun crews: If it seems hostile, take no chances. Engage!"

Turrets blistering the ship turned towards the massive cloud of metal that had just detached from the enemy vessel and headed on a beeline to the Hammer. Gatling guns and smaller, anti-spacecraft macro flak cannons opened fire.

Guardsmen rushed to sector five and positioned themselves at the most advantageous locations to repel anything that might come through the breech.
"Steady, men...steady..."

***

Sampson heard gunfire mixed with screams echoing over his vox set. He rushed down the hall as quickly as his non-weighted limbs could move. Anything that stood in his way would die.

Inside the hanger room the spiders tore apart the bodies and began replicating with parts from the suits and absorbing information on the technological designs behind them. The guns were nothing new to them, apparently most societies fight with bullets. However the transport was a sign of hope, as the ship began to take heavy damage they began hacking into the ships information, rewiring pieces and after a few minutes got it to take off. They tore it apart looking for any signal device that it might send back to the larger ship. Because they did not want these recourses destroyed. Replication in the hull began immediately.


___________________________________


A few spiders tried to lunge at Sampson, however his shotgun managed to take them out. He floated passed a room labeled trash chute, Cargo Bay C as another one jumped out from it. The ones he had blasted began to do something crazy. Piece themselves back together. Of course many pieces were heavily damaged and not functional, but the ones that were began to reform. Into another spider, and shot a wade of acid towards him, they wanted the biologicals dead.


__________________________________

"Commander, This is HAILY, I seem to be under fire, can you tell me what is going on? I have no sensors but a lot of seismic activity is occurring on the ship. What is going on?"

___________________________________

The Mechanical spider cloud came closer, being torn apart by flak and cannons, however for every dozen destroyed, at least one landed on the side. They began melting into the sides trying to break in. However the original landing party had gotten a large hole ready, melted about a foot in diameter section, once they broke the seal it would be shot right off the side decompressing the inside and allowing them to enter.

A few drops of acid, then the sound of foil thin metal tearing off as a small section flipped out into space. The first spiders raced threw the entrance jumping at enemy forces like....well... jumping spiders.

Sampson looked on in horror as some of the spiders he had killed started to reform. Ignoring the acid sizzling on his breastplate, he chucked a frag grenade at the reforming spiders and, with a muttered prayer, dove into the trash shute.

***

On the Hammer, Archer ignored the AI voice coming over the intercom, shutting off the speaker with a flick of his wrist.
"Status?"
"We are hitting them hard, sir, but they just keep coming!"
"As you were, keep firing. And get Guardsmen to kill the ones we missed!"
"Aye aye, sir!" Another watch officer got Archer's attention.
"Captain, we have lost all signals from the boarding crew. We are assuming they are dead."
"Damnit..." offering a brief prayer for their souls, Archer vowed to avenge them.
"Captain Montaigne! How are you holding out at the breach?" There was cackling static, followed by the Captain's voice over the intercom.
"We're fighting like bastards, sir, but we need reinforcements! We can't hold much longer!"
"Get more men up there!"

***

Even as Captain Montaigne reported what he thought was his status, several spiders ripped the genetic material from seven dead guardsmen before moving down the hallway unnopposed.

OOC: do you mind if we get the ship? or do you want to keep it? as for Sampson, as long as you don't tear the ship apart I have a few ideas, but more then likely he will live.

IC:

It would become quickly apperent that this was not a trash chute. As he went down it to the bottom if he looked on the sides he would notice the chute is designed for an elevator. Which he met about three decks down, torn open. Going through it into the room it was stuck on would be a small lab. With papers floating about, formerly mechanized devices melted into more spiders. Computer chips and information disk bounced off the walls as the ship began taking hits. sounds from around the ship told the tail she would not stay intact much longer.

A few doors led out, one to a hallway, one to a lab, and one to a room labeled warehouse equipment.

______________________________________

On the "rescue" ship, the spiders moved in unmatched, breaking into the hull wherever they could. They learned that these Biologicals were not to be trusted, and were a threat to the species. Bullets tore them apart, only to have them regenerate a few seconds later, of course many heavily damages pieces now littered the floor with the bodies, but it was a small price to pay with the amount that was coming in the holes. Once inside they made way to further electronic signals, attracted to the electric flow and current.

Inside the older ship, one gun was actually still usable, an old 50mm rail gun that had been brought back to working order, the spiders aimed it at the enemy ship. The round was nothing but a bunch of replicator chips, with the hardest ones making up the point. It hoped to pierce into the engine room and gain control of the ship that way. It fired.

OOC: Eh, go ahead and take it...just let me go down in a blaze of glory so my Guardsmen/Navy retain some pride (with at least one escape shuttle making it so they can pick up Sampson before bugging out for the home world).

IC:

All across the ship, Republican Guard soldiers fought like heroes in the hellish red of emergency lighting. Body armor and bullets met acid and tearing metal limbs with all the cunning, bravery, and savagery that humanity possessed.

Yet even as they watered the corriders in blood and metal, they knew it was not going to be enough. Major Hersfeld was dead; His company had been slaughtered when an unexpected breech to their rear had disgorged scores of their metallic enemies into their backs. Of the three company commanders, Captains Montaigne and Ellbro were dead, and Captain Malikai and his men were being pushed back into the shield generator bay. Only two other pockets of resistance still remained-one around the control room and one at the engines.

At the shield generator, Captain Malakai fired a burst at a advancing group of spiders, shredding four. He fired again at the chunks of metal, but it was to no avail-the four had become six, had become ten, had become fifteen...
the wall of metal forced he and his men back, then back again, ever deeper into the bowels of the ship. A scream followed by a scuttling sound behind him told him it was all over. As he was burried under metal monstrosities, he pulled the pin on his last grenade.

***

Archer steepled his fingers and tried to decide when he figured out that his ship was doomed. Maybe it was the way the gunfire outside had come closer. Or maybe it was when his shields dropped and he lost all contact with his Republican Guard units. A horrendous shaking reverberated throughout the ship.
"Captain, they have crippled our engines. We have lost all motive power."
Archer nodded.
"Very well." Standing up at his control desk, he put his Captain's hat on his head and shifted his jacket so that his dozen medals were in proper order. "Gentlemen," he said, "It has been an honor and a privilage to have served with you." He turned towards the blast doors as the shooting stopped and calmly waited for death to claim him.

***

In the engine room, Sergeant Redan was rallying his men to counterattack when the railgun hit. A hollow booming echoed throughout the engine chamber as it explosively decompressed, sucking a dozen guardsmen into space. The spiders renewed their assault.
"Fall back, men! We need to get out here while we still can!" Of Redan's fifty men, only twenty had surved this far, and of those twenty, only five made it with him to the escape pod. Strapping himself in, he hit the release button and was shot into the void.

***

Sampson rushed down the hallway, firing left and right, trying to survive, trying to find a way off of this damned ship and get away from its hell-spawned crew. He had lost contact with the Hammer six minutes before, and hoped that he had somewhere to retreat to...

The dying ship...

"Anyone acknowledge over this is HAILY, I am under fire, rescue units seem to be under assault. Requesting any assistance from outside assistance."

What no one had seemed to notice, was that Haily was a prisoner as well. The problem with being an AI being on a cruiser is that your memory is built into the ship, and when certain beings, such mechanical spiders hack into it, they can erase or create anything that they want. All of Haily's memory of the assault and conquest of ship, the last fleeing hope of the empire, were erased or detached from her mainframe. Only the basic files remained untouched. One side effect was her translator was hit hard. No doubt they noticed a few words had failed to get across. Of course there was nearly no hope as of now, using the materials in the back end the spider replicators started working on rebuilding the engines and programming the large Halcon to be able to move of its own accord.

Meanwhile inside the hallway Sampson had stumbled onto the research labs. While the labs held no specimens or anything information was abundant. Computers and hard drives, (with and without bullet holes) were strewn about. The halls were void of any more spiders, nearly all of them not working on the engine or in the command room were now crossing the vastness of space towards the new ship, salivating with acid mixtures for new data, materials and space travel abilities.

A small map showed him that the labs were near an escape pod section. However it would be a test of fate to see if anything was still there or if they even worked. Another .25 Kilometer down a main hallway would lead to a hanger bay, again a trial of luck.


OOC: want to say we are near a planet of some kind? it could be yours or someone else's....or a large rock, I just figure your escapist could use it as a raly point.

Sampson felt very alone.
It was a feeling he had become familiar with during the closing days of the Great War, when he had still served with the infantry. However, he had forgotten it during his long years as a member of a ship boarding party. There were always people with him; and if something went horribly wrong, like his ship being destroyed, there were always friendly ships around to pick him up. Now, he didn't think the Hammer would be waiting for him. Or anything else. Regardless, he refused to give in to the feeling, and he now that he was finally free of the spiders, he started to notice his surroundings. Hard drives and computers were everywhere, and he saw signs pointing towards a hanger bay and an escape pod.
"Oh, what the hell." Muttering to himself that he might actually survive and he should try to find out as much about these aliens as possible, he grabbed a few hard drives and scattered disks and stuck them in an empty ammo pouch. He debated which way to go and thought about flipping a coin before he remembered that flipping a coin in an airless environment was worse than stupid. Grumbling, he went towards the hanger bay.

***

Sergeant Redan ordered the guardsman piloting the escape craft to buzz around for a while longer and see if they could recover any survivors. In horror, they watched as hundreds of spiders made the jump on to the battered Hammer. Redan picked up his vox microphone.
"Anybody still out there?"

ooc:we are in a system...how bout a random life-supporting moon?

A quater of a Kilometer to the hanger bay, or Hanger Bay D (not the one the other people landed in). Of course on a ship like this, rotting and under fire, that distance would probably be suicide, but then again he would find a lot more then the route to the escape pods. Many more labs and even a medical wing, bodies floated around bouncing off the glass that shook as another round hit the ship. Bodies with acid burns and metallic cuts into their flesh along with doctors and soldiers. One arm stayed suspended in space, the hand around the grip of a machine gun, the counter on the side was blank, the battery power had died a long time ago. The door to the medical wing appeared to have been welded shut, then melted through, and inside stocks of food and water could be found. Along with it, a large and bulky computer box(1mx1mx1m) labeled: HAILY Backup File. Made up a ceramic composite it had a lock on the front and a tight seal around it. He still had a .2 Kilometers to go, but the ship was still quiet. The choice was up to him

Sampson saw the HAILEY backup file and debated whether or not to try to hack in to it. He was hardly a technician, and his knowledge of technology extended no farther than how to maintain his battle gear. After a few seconds of indecision, he decided to check what the file had in it. Smashing the lock off with the stock of his shotgun, he began to work the seal up and off.

The seal shot off with a deafening roar of low grade explosives and air escaping into space, inside was a titanium covered box, strong enough to survive the explosion, but now just needed to be opened by a flick of a wrist. If he lived long enough to open it there he would find 5 seperate hard drives. All cased inside the Titanium box with a single port on the side. This was the HAILY back up drive. A shock wave from an explosion further down told him to hurry, assuming that the HAMMER was the source of the explosion.


__________________________________

On the Hammer....


Nearly all of the Guard had been killed, and the ship was undergoing replicator control, weapons were being re-engineered to fire large replicator rounds into other ships. Hoping to being the infection of this race. On the bridge the replicators soon learned that was the source of control for the entire ship and make head way to get there. They began melting through the blast doors and were soon inside, the biologicals here did not attack, declared neutral, they went to work on the electronics, taking them apart and learning the ways to control and de-encrypted the ships information.

As well as learn what else they could about the location of more...

Sampson was starting to worry about all the explosions. It seemed like this rusty wreck would fall apart any moment, and he had to get out while he could. Grabbing the titanium box, he started to go towards the hanger bay when Redan's message cackled through his headset.
"Redan? Redan, are you there?"
"Is that you, Sampson?"
"You bet your ass. I'm bugging off of this ship to a hanger bay, I'll deploy a beacon when I get there."
"We'll be there, Sampson. Death and glory, out."
"Death and glory!"

***

The spiders that were hacking in to the Hammer's datacore would find all sorts of useful things about the Republic of Setulan, from ship makeups to the names of every CO in the Republican Navy to the battle language of the Republican Guard.

They would not, however, find the coordinates of Setulan itself.

It had been decided at the highest levels that it would be tremendous folly to have the location of Setulan actually in the ships' datacore. The chance of an unknown enemy (like, say, robotic self-replicating spiders) hacking the system was too great; and it would leave the Republic wide open to an attack. The only people who knew the coordinates were the Captain, who was dead on the floor; the XO, sucked out of an airlock while commanding a Navy anti-boarding team; and Major Hersfeld, whose flesh had been vaporized by acid bursts.

All this did not stop the spiders from finding system codes.

Once the spiders had control of the ship they began sweeping missions for biologicals, if they found any they would be harassed to the escape pods, at least the ones they were willing to give up. The replicators deemed it necessary to keep about half, in case they feel like assaulting another ship or planet. Also, the more biologicals let free, the more likely more ships would come, and allow for more replication. Each escape carried a few replicators in them, waiting to strike until the biologicals called for help.

Using the maps and information found on the Hammer the uploaded it into the Replicator network, the connection of all replicators across space, giving them new ideas, new weapons, and new tactics. This way in the event they lost the Hammer, they could still use the information.

The Hammer then launched itself towards the nearest planet on the records, they hoped the Trojan horse tactic would work...

Sampson made it the hanger bay in one piece, somehow. He did not understand it-he had been swarmed by spiders, and suddenly there were none. He was spooked, and readily admitted it. Taking out a radio beacon, he attached it to the deck with a mag clamp and set it off, praying that the pulse wouldn't attract anything more.

On the escape vessel, Redan picked up the beacons' signal and ordered the guardsman-turned-pilot to head towards it. He only hoped they got their in time.

Overall, about a quarter of the crew made it off the vessel through various means, primarily escape pods. However, a few guardsmen launched themselves directly into space, trusting in their vacuum suits to help until an escape pod could pick them up. The escape pods started sending out a distress signal across all bands to see if something would help them.

ooc: there are no planets...Setulan is alone (thats why I'm exploring). I sort of figured my guys would rally on some planet, help would come, and surprise! replicators! And though it may be a bit late to ask...what the hell ARE replicators? =P

OOC: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Replicator_(Stargate)


mine are a little different, but for all RP purposes that is a great explination

As Sampson would find out, the mass of the spiders would be in one of two locations, the engine room using the supplies to fix it, or on the new ship getting new toys. The Distress signals would mean nothing to the Replicators, as they believed them to be a signal to get more raw materials here. The Hammer, now under Replicator control, was moved behind a small moon to rest in orbit, hopefully go unnoticed by other ships coming in. However they did began to use the translators to understand then jam any audio or details about the SOS. The last thing they wanted was a well prepared fleet coming in.

Meanwhile HAILY backup files waited to be opened..

Sergeant Redan's craft rocketed into the hanger where Sampson waited, engines screaming at max power. The door opened quickly, and Sampson launched himself into the shuttle. The moment the doors closed, they left. Redan grinned at Sampson and stuck out his hand.
"Welcome back, Sampson." Sampson nodded and took the offered hand.
"Status?"
"We managed to link up with a couple other escape craft. We are going to rally on yonder moon" he gestured out the window "and set up a distress call."

Ten minutes later, the escape craft landed in a cleared field. About a third of the crew was there, tending to the injured, and setting up temporary shelters.
"How many guardsmen made it out?" Asked Sampson. Redan just shook his head.
"Maybe thirty, forty others. All the others died fighting." Sampson just nodded. Thirty or forty-out of two hundred. Bastards. Replicating, mutant-spawning bastards.
"Before I forget, I have the backup file for the ships AI." Redan grinned.
"Lets take it to some techno boys." They went searching and, after about thirty minutes, found some Navy technicians.
"Want to work this for us?" Sampson handed the file to him. He grunted when he hefted it.
"Heavy, ain't it? I'll see what I can do." He started to perform some highly advanced souldering and connecting wires here and there. Another interminable half hour later, he beckoned them over.
"I think I got it..." He pushed a button.

The replicators watched from orbit as the group of biologicals rested on the moon, a few Replicators were already down there amongst the debris and escape pods, but they were not to strike until more ships arrived. Then just as they expected, the distress beacon went out to the universe. The replicators sat and watched and waited.

Meanwhile the backup drive began to whirl to life. The system sent out streaming text to any system that could pick it up. The text was simple and could hopefully be translated:

HAILY BACK UP

LAST UPDATE: 04/22/3087

UPDATE BASICS: Emergency

ACCESS FILES?

Y/N