From her observer's position, Dizzy watched the screens, though she kept her own council.  She had her uses, she wouldn't be aboard if she hadn't, but they were comparatively minor in space.  She was no Voidwalker, she hadn't grown up around vacuums and twelve hour shift rotations, her boots hungered for firm ground as much as her heart longed for the smell of blood and gunpowder.  This hostile frozen world was just the thing, it would be like a little slice of home.

"Aye, Sir!" Dizzy snapped off a salute, her smirk tugging at a scar along her eye, "Thank you, Sir."

She turned smoothly on her heel and headed for her bunk, opening up the foot locker at the end of her bed and rummaging through it.  Rugged Gareshi winterwear came out, black leather from an amphibious creature that could survive the freezing depths and was strong enough to bull his way through the ice to grab the creatures who would roam atop it during the winter, it's water resistant fur was turned into a thick trim that prevented the snow from melting into the sleeves or collars.  She grabbed a layer of thermal underarmor to help keep her body temperature regular, and then started pulling on her body armor.  Manufactured back home on Garesh, it had of course been intended to be worn over cold-weather gear without further impeding it's wearer, the skull-shaped shoulder and knee-pad settling into place as the only spots of white on her.

She mused silently on the repeated data stream they'd heard.  000-7790-252-000 Death 999.  What did it mean?  Coordinates?  She mused to herself, trying to connect the numbering to any religious texts she'd heard of from before the Hegemony, perhaps a warning they believed any culture descended from the same origin would recognize?  She pulled out a small tin of sealing balm and unsheathed the monoblade on her hip, making a small, practiced incision over the back of her forearm.  Running her thumb over the beading blood, she pressed it to her forehead, drawing it off to the side and then down around the eye before using the index and middle finger of the same hand to spread the balm over her skin and stop any further bleeding.  She took up her rifle, quickly making certain that everything was properly maintained as she spoke a prayer to ask for her god's favor.

"God of war, I call you
My weapon at my side
I seek a life of honor
Free from all false pride

I will stride to battle
With a bold and mighty hail
Cover me with death
If I should ever fail"

"Glory" check the magazine "Majesty" slam it home "Unity" rifle butt to the shoulder "Hail" work the slide "Hail" sight down the weapon "Hail" check the safety.  All good.  She grabbed her helmet with it's rictus grin and headed for the shuttle bay.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:56, Thu 10 Jan 2013.

To the right of Commander's console, Science Officer Justor was seated at his station, but only just barely.  He was a flurry of activity, his fingers manipulating various sensor controls as information about the planet filtered in.  It was understandable; every scrap of information he was receiving was entirely new data, on a system that hadn't been visited since before the Scream.  Honestly, after the void-jilt, Justor had been terribly disappointed.  He had been expecting the remnants of a Federation Space-Port, a treasure trove of tech and history, and instead all he got was a mass of stellar data, and a pre-spike civ.

Regardless, Justor was doing his job, and with gusto.  He even hummed a little tune to himself as he worked, looking like some kind of strange conductor, directing a symphony of sensor screens.  Before long, there wasn't much else he could do but let the system accumulate raw data, and he sat back at last, pressing his fingers together in thought.  When he speaks up, it is in that breakneck tone he assumes whenever he is interested by something.
"Intriguing, Commander, that this first exploratory mission into the Dead Zone for centuries should be sabotaged.  Makes one wonder about saboteur's motives.  Concealment?  Competition?  Could not be rival factions, the mission was dictated by the Hedgemony as a whole.  Motives a mystery, too many variables!"
He grumbled lightly to himself like a child who can't solve a simple puzzle.

-PING-

A sensor alert asserts itself on your holodisplay coming from planetary sector Episilon-seven-nine.

Justor's little internal reverie is interrupted by the sudden alert popping up on his screen, and he immediately leans back in towards the display, assessing the information as quickly as possible.  He hadn't expected any kind of activity on the planet other than the ground team and the failing reactor.
"I've got an alert, Commander.  Analyzing..."
His fingers flew over the controls, and his eyes reflected the light from the display as information flooded by.

A signal, clearly identified by authorized IFF shows the Moonwing class shuttle being persued by several unidentified fast moving fliers. Moments later all but one of the fliers breaks off the pursuit and reverse course...

Well.  That was new.  Justor's manipulation of the equipment turned a bit more animated as he processed that information.
"Sensors are showing the Shuttle being pursued by an unidentified flying craft.  No IFF signatures detected.  Several more contacts have broken off pursuit and heading in reverse course.  Trying for a directed spectrum scan..."
At their altitude, getting any kind of relevant data from a spectrum scan on such fast-moving targets was unlikely.  Still, any information he could collect might be invaluable in determining the nature of the ground team's enemy.

Master Farhenra immediately storms over to the Comms station and begins to hail the shuttle, with no response.

"There's some sort of low-frequency jamming signal that we can't punch through. I think the drones are generating it." Donnel responds

"Gorramit. Wake the Commander, she'll want to know what's happening."

The comms officer sends a message to the Commander's quarters.

Several things happen almost at once:

A panicked looking deck crewman bursts through the hatch into the cramped bridge area and rushes up to the XO. "We're under attack! There's an intruder on the ship, heading for engineering!"

Comms Officer Donnel looks questioningly up at Farhenra from his station. "Sir, intership comms are down. Looks like sabotage... the network was cut at the hub."

The last drone indicator on the sensor screen disappears. Lost contact. The shuttle remains however.

Contact is restored with the shuttle. "Shackelton to shuttle! Respond! Shackleton to Moonwing! Respond! Repeat, Respond!"

Primary power goes out on the bridge, emergency systems kick in immediately, but more than half the stations are down and red emergency lighting lends a hellish aspect to the cramped command center.

A response comes from the surface.
"Moonwing to Shackleton, we copy.  Drones were attracted to us, and attacked. One is downed, the others are..disabled I do believe. Over." The voice of the Shuttle pilot sounds relieved.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:24, Mon 04 Feb 2013.

Through all the chaos unfolding on the Bridge, Justor maintained his station like a professional, doing his best to get as much information as possible on the Shuttle aggressors.  It didn't end up doing much good in the end, as they were swiftly reduced the emergency power, and the shuttle managed to destroy or disable their pursuer before Justor could learn anything else about it.  He'd have to study any data the Shuttle compiled while in action.  The crew too.  For now, though, they had bigger concerns.

Stepping up from his station, Justor approached Master Farhenra.
"We need to secure Engineering.  Saboteur won't stop at internal comms and power systems, likely move on to life support or navigation, kill us or force a crash landing, strand us in Dead Zone.  No, no no, Commander must be alerted first, head of chain of command, likely a target, keep us disorganized so infiltrator can move easier-"
The doctor shook his head quickly, realizing quickly this wasn't his area of expertise, and so he shouldn't stress himself thinking about it.  Instead, he fixed his heterochromatic eyes on Farhenra.
"Orders, Master Farhenra?"

The sharp-boned Farhenra was already swiping an access card through a locker on the corner of the bridge deck, punching in a eight digit key, he cracks open the double-thick panels to reveal an arms locker. Seizing a rifle he tosses it to the Comms officer. He holsters a sidearm and presents another one to Justor.

"Since you've seen fit to take the initiative, load up and move with us. We're converging on the engineering section. We've got at least one intruder or saboteur to deal with. You know how to use that thing, right, son?"

He regards you with his dark, serious eyes.

"Right. Arm up and move out. Stay in groups and shoot to kill. We can't afford any casualities. Anyone who won't stand down and be taken into custody takes a bullet. Am I understood?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:37, Wed 06 Feb 2013.

Justor takes the pistol from Farhenra without hesitation, though he takes a bit longer than the Comms officer to inspect the firearm.  It had been a long time since he'd held a weapon; not since basic training when he joined the military.  All he'd held onto since then was a pen or research equipment.  In any case, Justor double-checked the magazine and deactivated the safety.  He looked back at Farhenra, his expression totally calm.
"Ja, Understood."
If he was gonna have to kill someone today, no point in letting his emotions play a role.  He was all business.  He fell in alongside Farhenra and the rest of the bridge crew that felt inclined to accompany them to Engineering, keeping his eyes sharp.

Farhenra leads the way and you notice that along with his Indari Infantry Rifle and a side arm he has one of the skana swords strapped to his back in a simple hand-made sheath. The rest of the bridge crew forms up.

Farhenra, Justor, Chief Medical Venn, Comms Officer Donell, the Deck crewman who alerted them to the situation and one of the Astral Troopers arm up and leave the bridge as the XO seals the main hatch. From what you understand the other Marine pursued the saboteur alone.

---->To Engineering

Justor had to double time it just to keep up with the more seasoned soldiers, and actually found himself jogging closer to the back of the pack as they approached Engineering.  It wasn't entirely due to his lack of athletisism, as putting a non-combatant on point would be just asking to get him killed.  Still, Justor couldn't reason his way out of it; he needed to get back into fighting shape if he wanted to keep this job and stay alive.
"Hnn, I must remember to start a more stringent exercise regimen once this is over..."

---->To Engineering
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Thu 07 Feb 2013.

True to his word, Farhenra's access code unseals the bridge and allows you back in. The alarms have been silenced now and the ship has a strange silence to it, most of it's system having been shut down. Luckily, comms were repaired with a little splicing and rerouting to the navigation system. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

-->From Engineering-->

Once repairs to the Comms console were made, Justor had Donnel begin hailing the Shuttle.  They needed the field team back ASAP, both to get them off that planet and to get repairs started on the Shakleton.
"Shakleton to Moonwing.  Return to hangar immediately.  Repeat, Moonwing, return to hangar immediately."
He waited for a response, unsure of whether or not the Shuttle was even still operational with the sensor station disabled.

A female voice responds after a brief moment. She sounds tense.

"This is Away Team, Shackleton, we receive you but do not recognize.  Please identify and transmit Hegemony Recognition Codes."

Donnel punches a few keys in response and nods at you to continue.

It seems the ground team was a bit on edge as well.  Not surprising, considering they'd just had to fight off some kind of drone construct on an alien planet.  That didn't mean that Justor was any less riled up, having just looked death in the face.  He waited while Comm Officer Donnel punched in the Hegemony Recognition Codes before leaning back in to re-transmit.
"This is Science Officer Justor Reson.  Return to hangar immediately.  Primary power has been disabled, operating on emergency power.  We need Voidmaster Grey back for repairs immediately.  I repeat, return to hangar immediately."

Several minutes go by with no response from the ground.

"I'm able to ping their transmitters. They're just not responding." Sam screws his face up in frustration at the monitor.
This message was last updated by the GM at 22:37, Fri 08 Feb 2013.

Another minute and the comms finally crackle again, the harsh voice of the woman you spoke to before cutting through.

"Shackleton, this is the Away Team.  We're en route now, keep the light on for us."

As the minute stretched on, Justor was slowly becoming concerned.  He had no idea what had made them so suspicious that requested authentication.  It wasn't as though there were any other ships in the area.  They didn't even know what had just happened on the ship!

Luckily, before Justor could repeat his message, he got a response that they were en route back to the ship.
"Understood, Away Team."
That said, Justor returned to the sensor station to at least try and regain a signal on the Moonwing.  Just to ensure they didn't lead any visitors back.

-From Moonwing-

Luthar came into the Bridge quickly, looking around he stood to one of the sides and gave a quick salute. "Pilot An'bhaird reporting in." He wasn't entirely sure who was here, who wasn't, but wanted to be sure to cover bases encase the Commander was standing there.  He stood for a moment, then relaxed, "What can I help with?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 22:54, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

The bridge is a mess.

The Comms Officer and his Junior Comms officer are waist deep in wires, fiber optic cables and disconnected pieces of hardware>

Half the deck panels are up on their sides, with the crew chief crawling around beneath the deck working on something.

One of the Astral Troopers, still partially in his combat armor with his rifle laying on a chair is up to his elbows in the commander's station.

The activity gave the bridge the appearance of a gutting beast being scavaged by angry dogs.

Justor Reson performs similar duties at his science station, digging through all the internal workings of the bridge equipment.

"We're looking for cricketts." He replied without bothering to look up or pull his head out from under the console. "Listening devices, short-fuses, holoscanners, EM decoys, Gareshi middlemen, explosives... anything that shouldn't be here."

"Understood." Luthar nodded as he headed to the nearest unoccupied area and started searching for anything that he thought might be out of the ordinary. Though most of this was beyond him, he still gave it his best efforts.  I've got to train myself a bit more at this stuff.  Just knowing a ship is bad.

18:09, Today: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 5 using 2d6. Perception check!

"So...what exactly happened?" Luthar said, hands deep in wires beneath a console.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

"I'm here, where-" Annie gasped, catching her breath. She'd run all the way up here in her pressure suit. "What's the situation? Where do you need me? Where is Shubai?"

"Master Shubai is dead."
Justor's voice floated up from within the depths of his station, followed shortly by his face as he retreated back into sight.  He wiped his hands on his uniform, and began sorting through some of the tools sitting atop the Sensor Station consoles.  His expression was focused, as was typical of the Science officer when he was working.
"Upon your encounter with the Drones on planet, Janus Meyrink sabotaged the ship and disabled our primary power and internal comm systems.  Master Shubai and Crewman Venn were killed.  Master Farhenra and the bridge crew found Meyrink in Engineering, and stopped him from killing Warrior Aesgar.  Astra Prime Donnel accompanied me back to the Bridge, and I relayed your return orders."

Justor turned his head and looked towards Annabel, but returned his gaze to the station before speaking again.
"They will probably need your help in Engineering, Voidmaster."

OOC
15:31, Today: Justor Reson rolled 7 using 2d6+2. Perception On the Bridge.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Mon 11 Feb 2013.