Massive and imposing are words that come close to describing the holds of CS-8. Close, but even they don't do justice to the size of them. With enough space to house a couple of aircraft carriers you can easily get lost here. Fortunately numerous consoles tell you exactly where you are, and where to find stuff.

<< from Med bay  Troy and Shadow........

   reaching the  Cargo hold.  Kray looks  around,I really should have took the tour...but i wanted to fly my own aircraft in?... I'll have to stydy a layout in my  room when i get a chance....


 Marco?.. Light up Hold 5..to save me some time?

  When they find their  stuff  he  will gather all his belongings to take  up to his barracks ..

 One Bloody thing? never have to worry about hittin' the gym too off..just walkin' around  will keep us in shape?

 Marco?... quickest way to Barracks 9 ?

<< From: Medical Facilities

The empty cryo chamber had been creepy and imposing, but perhaps Micaela had been too out of sorts to truly appreciate it. That wasn't the case now, and the cargo hold was perhaps even more overwhelming. It wasn't that she hadn't been anywhere on this scale, she had worked a few pit mining jobs in the past, it was that the place was so empty. She didn't know she could feel like a place could and would swallow her.

At the entrance she pulled a data pad off of the wall, input her credentials, and let it lead her to her storage unit. Thankfully, personal storage was sectioned off into smaller, less imposing spaces, but it was no less lonely. Once she had it open she took stock of what it contained, if just to give her a sense of normality.

Some of her clothing from home; a few days worth. Transportation was more expensive than fabrication, so most of what she needed would be made here. But everyone was provided a little allowance.

A custom laptop with linked tablet, ear piece, heads up display and glove interface. The system came with a bunch of custom software and was Micaela's rig of choice when operating a drone.

And the rest was mostly mementos. A geode from one of her mining operations, some jewelry from her mother, a newspaper clipping with the obituary of her younger sister, a souvenir hat from the 2026  Peru/Colombia/Ecuador World Cup with the Argentinian team logo on it, a vial of primordial ice from Antarctica that was now primordial water, and so on. She marveled a bit at how little was truly important to her. Between how much of her life she could digitize and put on her laptop and what the Marco Polo would be providing for her, there just wasn't much left.

Still confident that she was absolutely alone, she began stripping out of the jumpsuit and the underwear beneath. The jumpsuit was stiff and unwieldy, and even if she was frozen she had been wearing that underwear for more than a century. Over the fresh underwear she pulled on black leggings, a long white shirt, a shorter forest green top and well worn but still solid hiking boots. Then she ran her fingers through her hair a few times before setting it back into a ponytail.

Feeling better than she had since waking, she took a seat on the floor, powered up her laptop and checked to see if she had a reply from Staff Sergeant Blake Germaine.

Sitting cross legged, alone in the sterile corridors of the cargo hold, the long lines only broken by the door to her unit still hanging open, Micaela's head tilted as she read Blake's response.


And then it hit her what he was asking her to do. Nodding as she typed, she composed a response.


Glad to have something constructive to do she rose to her feet. Then, from her unit she withdrew a messenger bag, slid her laptop within it, slung it over her head and one shoulder, and headed back to where her day has started.

>> To: Cryo Chambers

From: Security Section

   Jen entered the cargo hold and accessed the terminal, entering her name, rank, identification number, and her personal code to gain both directions and access to the military equipment repository.  The Detective opened her locker and withdrew the two duffle bags secured inside.  She slung the strap of the first one over her shoulder, then grabbed the second one in her left hand.  She though for a brief moment about grabbing her personal equipment case from home, but decided that it could wait until sometime in the future.

   As she exited the cargo hold, Jen realized that she had no idea of where she was going.  The Section had some small rooms for section personnel, but Jen didn't want to sleep there.  She knew that she had a small set of quarters somewhere aboard, but she had no idea of where it was.

   "Marco, please identify the location of and directions to the quarters of Lieutenant Jennifer Maxwell."

Lieutenant Maxwell is housed in the upper barracks section. Deck 7, appartment 14. Follow the yellow lines displayed on the floor for your convenience.

Sure enough, the CS-8 suddenly had a yellow set of walking arrows projected on the floor.

   Jen adjusted the strap of the duffle bag on her shoulder and began to follow the yellow arrows to deck seven, apartment number fourteen.  The bags seemed a bit heavier than she expected them to be.  Maybe that long of a nap, even in cryostasis, caused some loss in muscle tone.  The Detective smiled as she walked.  That problem was fixable and the repairs would start at oh-six-hundred hours.

To:  Maxwell Quarters 

From:Security

Walking up to one of the consoles Hans finds the section that holds his possessions.

Finding his bag he opens it up to check everything is in order,few civvies,couple of old photos,books and other sentimental  nicknacks.
He searches the bag for a brown shoebox sized box,which he finds.
With a satisfied Grunt he grabs another bag,this one is a sturdily built but well worn military green bag,a medical symbol stamped on the bag below the name FISCHER embossed on the top.

After locating a few spare sets of uniform and a few other usefull items he sets off to his quarters.

To:Hans Fischer's accommodation

From:  Security

   Maxwell got to the cargo hold.  She realized that the holds would be a great place to test the drones and work on her private theory.  She also realized that she could wander around the holds for a very long time looking for the Major.

   "Marco, what is the current location of Major Ascott?"

¨Back here Lieutenant,¨ a voice echoes throughout the hold. It comes from the back, past a set of huge sliding doors stencilled with a numeral 4.

   Jen made her way back to where the Major was located.  She smiled.  "Sir, I have that few minutes now.  What is it you wish me to see?"

The marine drops down from one of the storage racks, tapping some dust off his thighs.
"Ah yes, Maxwell." He gestures for her to follow him to a set of closed lockers. There he hands Jennifer a set of boltcutters.
"These four lockers, for as far as I know, belong to our four culprits. I thought you might want to investigate them."

   Jen looked at the lockers, then back at the Major.  "These lockers are probably empty, but I'm not going to bet anyone's life on that supposition.  These are the same people who sabotaged the Marco Polo and left us to die, Sir.  That demonstrated disregard for human life means I'm doing this carefully."

   Maxwell keyed her link to the ship.  "Marco, please transmit this to Micaela Nieves."

   "Miss Nieves, this is a high priority assignment.  I need you to equip a drone for opening padlocks in a way that won't destroy the contents of the locker that they are protecting.  Once you have the drone ready, I need you to pilot it and a pair camera drones with recorders to cargo bay four."

   She turned her attention back to Major Ascott.  "For your safety, I will need you and your men to evacuate this area once we start investigating the lockers.  I have to assume that the owners of the lockers left us a lethal going away present."

<< From: Recreational deck

It took Micaela probably 10 minutes to arrive after she pinged confirmation to Lieutenant Maxwell that she was coming. The drones Lou requested were already live, though Micaela always got a little sentimental about sending Tau into dangerous situations.

"Let's take a look before everyone scatters. We might not need to open them to find out what's inside."

"Unit zero one, unit zero two, full scan of these lockers." The scanning hardware these drones were packing was exhaustive, and the lockers would have to have after-market adjustments to block all of it.

As if performing an elaborate dance the drones went to working, swirling around the lockers one by one, following a tightly programmed routine so their scanners could take a look through the lockers' plate metal skin. Their findings were swift, and unanymous. Three of the four lockers were empty. The fourth one contained what was probably clothing, at least cloth material, and what seemed to be a small lockbox. The scanners did not manage to scan the box.

   "Major, this is now the site of an active investigation.  For your own safety, would you and your men please evacuate the hold at this time?"  She didn't smile.  People's lives could be in danger.

With a nod of understanding Ascott sends the few troopers in the hold to the mess for some drinks. The major himself however isn't going anywhere.
"What kind of a man would I be lieutenant if I let you ladies do all the dangerous work all by yourselves? Besides, if the box is a bomb, you might need an expert to disarm it. SAS taught me a few things about bomb disposal. I'll stay back however, its your show." He shoots Micaela a quick wink. "And I wanna see some more of those drones. They are mighty nifty tools you have there."

   This was still Jen's crime scene, even with the Major on the scene as an observer.  "Major, at least move back from the lockers until we have an idea of what we have in there.  The Captain would have my guts for garters if I let anything happen to you.  And speaking about just what is in there..."

   Maxwell turned her attention to Micaela.  "Miss Nieves, what have you detected in the lockers?"

"A small lockbox in this locker here." she indicated with a nod of her head. "The others are empty. I can't tell what's inside the lockbox. The more layers the scan has to go through the less reliable it becomes."

"Unit zero three through unit zero eight. Time to be useful. Full scan of the cargo hold, starting with this section and radiating outward. Execute."

The tagged drones darted away, all in different directions. It looked chaotic, but they had already calculated the best way to split up the work. Down to two regular drones and the custom drone Micaela called Tau, the airspace was far less crowded.

"They will tell us if there are any other surprises in the area. As for what we do about this one, that's your call boss. The paranoid response would be to move far enough away that there is at least one emergency pressure door between us and this, suit up in a vac suit just in case, and have a bird outside ready to pick us up just just in case. These three can do the dirty work."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:07, Wed 14 June 2017.

   Jen had never been accused of being a genius.  Fortunately, it didn't take a genius to see that Micaela was right.  "Sir, Miss Nieves is correct.  We should have a sealed bulkhead between us and the locker when she has the drones open it and then the lock box it contains.  If you would step this way, Major?"

"If you say so ladies," Ascott smirked. Not usually one to back away from danger he did as he was told anyway, curious as to what the drones would do. Back in his SAS days he would probably have just tried picking the lock, but they were right. There was a chance the locker was boobytrapped, and it was smarter to not take any chances.

   "Thank you, Sir."  Jen didn't want anyone else to die from the perp's actions.  The one body on the bridge was quite enough, thank you.

   Once everyone was a safe distance away, Maxwell said, "Miss Nieves, are you having one drone up close watching the opening process with the second observation drone views the process from farther away?  I ask because if there is an explosion, we will still have one drone recording what happened."

"That's the plan." she replied as she tapped out a few commands on her laptop to broadcast her display onto a local vidscreen so that the others could watch what happened in real time.

"Unit zero one, maintain distance of 2 meters from target. Unit zero two, maintain distance of 20 meters from target. Full data broadcast for the duration of the exercise." The last command was in reference to the normal process of recording data locally, and then sending bursts of data packets off at set intervals. That meant that a drone would usually record for 60 seconds, then send that data to Micaela all at once. It was a way to limit wireless interference. But in situations like this, she wanted that data broadcast continuously. She didn't want to risk losing any of it.

"Tau, let's see what's inside. I want you to open the locker, give us a chance to visually inspect the lock box, then open that as well. Use highest precaution levels." At the highest precaution levels the drone moved very slowly and very deliberately. It would use the lightest touch it was physically capable of, but that meant an agonizing couple of minutes to do what someone could do in 15 second if they weren't overly concerned about blowing themselves up.

Carefully the drone opens the locker. The half expected explosion does not happen, instead the locker door slowly swings open, revealing clothing, a dataslate, and a small lockbox.

Provided nothing went wrong, Micaela had a plan for inspecting the contents of the locker.

She'd start with another full scan to make sure there wasn't anything amidst the clothing, anything unexpected on the dataslate and to try to see inside the lockbox now that there was one less layer of metal between the scanners and the interior.

The clothing she would remove from the locker, one piece at a time, and set out on the floor. The slate she would also remove and take back to the closed pressure door that Micaela, Lou and Shouty McShoutface were waiting behind. Her bosses could decide if they wanted to inspect the slate directly. The lockbox she would save for last. She would need to determine how it was sealed before she could formulate a plan to get it open.

   Maxwell took a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and put them on before taking the slate from the drone.  "I'll run this through some icebreaker software back at the section.  Now, Miss Nieves, about that lockbox..."

"I'll have that open in no time if you want Lieutenant," Ascott grins, toying around with his K-Bar knife. "It wont close again afterwards though."

"On it." Micaela said in response to Lou, ignoring Shouty. The locking mechanism appeared similar, so she tried the same approach, visualizing the interior mechanism and using that data to select the proper code.

The lockbox pops open. Inside is a storage and display device, usually used to display photographic images. The particular model inside was hi tech at the time Polo launched, able to produce 3d images projected above the display.

"Looks like we're all clear boss." Micaela said, looking up from her laptop to the Lieutenant and the Major. "Geiger counter isn't showing elevated radiation and the chemical sniffer doesn't detect any residue that matches the profile for any known explosive."

She turned to look at the wall display and the small storage device still sitting in the opened lockbox. "I can't make any guarantees though, and this is my first gig in forensics so I don't have much past experience to draw on. I can continue to direct Tau to be our hands out there, but it will be slow going. That manipulator arm is an engineering marvel, but it doesn't hold a candle to our God given appendages. Your call."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:28, Fri 30 June 2017.

   Lt. Maxwell listened to Miss Nieves.  "With the Geiger counter not showing elevated radiation and the chemical sniffer not detecting any traces of identifiable explosive residue, I'd call it clear as well."  Maxwell smiled... actually smiled at Micaela.  "That was some very good work, Miss Nieves.  I'll take the display device with me and run both items through icebreaker and decryption procedures back at the shop.  Continue on with your drone work, but please keep it to unoccupied areas of the ship."

   The Lieutenant then turned her attention to the Major.  "Sir, would you have some of your people bag up the rest of the items in the locker and take them to Security for examination and analysis?  I'll let you know what I find after going through everything."

"That I can do lieutenant." He nods at Jennifer as he whispers some commands into his throat microphone. Then he grins sheepishly at Micaela.
"Would you mind if I accompany you on your drone expedition miss Nieves? Or is it missus?"

From: Chambers Quarters

It was 3:41 pm, and Danny arrived, searching for Micaela Nieves (if she's alone he will approach.)

"Understood boss; and thank you."


Micaela wasn't as quick to respond to the Major though. She didn't know anything about the man, but their limited interactions had not been what she would call positive. And on top of that... was he flirting with her? Impossible. That had to all be in her head.

"Sure." she replied dumbly at first. But continued a moment later as her brain caught up to her mouth. "I'm not sure there will be much to see though. Most of the time the data is normal and boring. And, ah, it's Miss Nieves."

Movement caught her eye a moment later as another man walked into line of sight. From his clothes to his posture he looked like a civilian. He was probably woken early and was just here to collect his stuff, so she ignored him.

"Unit zero one and Unit zero two, deploy ahead of the core scanning flight to verify that the queued scan locations are free of personnel before scanning commences. Start with cargo holds 3 and 5."

Falling back into her element her confidence started to return as she spoke to the Major again. "The data will come to me, so at this point I just need a quiet and comfortable place to watch the numbers scroll by. Any suggestions?"

   Maxwell saw that she was no longer needed at this location.  She headed toward the door to head back to the office.  She still had a case to work.

To:  Security Section

Ascott directs Micaela to a spot where some pallets are stacked.
"You can set up right there I believe."

He then turns his attention to Danny.
"Anything I can do for you young man?"

Ah, there's the Major she had come to know and love. Only a military hard ass would consider pallets comfortable. But Micaela had worked under worse conditions, so she hopped up to the top, spinning around as she went, and let her legs dangle off of the edge once she had landed. For a moment she considered activating the Rock-Paper-Scissors program she had written for Tau, but she would probably get yelled at again, so she resisted the urge.

"No sir, I just needed to talk to Micaela Nieves, but as I see your busy, i'd be able to reurn in a few hours..?" he said politely.

"Me?" Micaela asked, a little surprised. She wasn't normally one to eavesdrop, but she was looking at a long stretch of having little to do and was kind of hoping that this civvy would upset the Major enough to cause him to pop off again and provide some amusement for at least a little while.

"Why would you be looking for me? What did I do this time?"

"I don't know if you've done anything in the past, I am just recruiting civilians for a sort of day job..." Danny said innocently, and truthfuly.

Say no. All you have to do is say no. You have a job and your boss has the temperament of a nun teaching horny teenage boys at a Catholic school. Whatever he's selling you don't need it or want it.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

Have you ever wondered if the problem is you, not them?

"Well, assuming your not busy, I will explain the terms... Basically, you'd be running a diner, the job description is virtually just dish washing and waitressing.... and considering there is no currency circulating this ship, your paycheck would be having something to do for a few hours a day, a few times a week... possibly more, possibly less... I would be a manager/supervisor, and all you need for the job is to know how to make eggs..... if this sounds good I can just find you again when the place is opening for business...?" Danny said quickly, but not rushed or slurred.

Micaela was silent for another moment, making a concerted effort to not let her mouth fall open.

"You... you're serious, aren't you."

"Sorry." she continued, hoping her growing smile came off in a good-natured way and not a malicious one. "I am gainfully employed at the moment, at least until I do something to get myself thrown into the brig. In either case I'm afraid I won't be of much help to you."

Danny sighed almost inaudibily, he nodded, and thanked Mrs. Nieves for her time... he left the Cargo Hold for the next person on the list.... for Gods sake he wanted to take a nap...

"Marco: Where may i find Mike Schmidt?" Danny asked, already loading a picture of him on his stalker pad. At this point, he was ready to quit... but was holding out for sake of not disappointing VanderBeek...

"Good luck!" Micaela called out after the strange retreating man, trying to look apologetic and likely failing.

With the stranger out of earshot she looked at the timer on her display. "Two minutes down, hundreds to go.

She settled in and waited for the data to show her something interesting.

Mike Schmidt is currently in his quarters Danny. Have a nice day.

"Do I scare you, miss Nieves?"
Ascott grins as he hops onto the pallets and sits next to Micaela. Its a crude smile, obviously by a man not used to smiling often. It is clear from his entire posture that this is a man hardened in combat, a man used to fighting for what he wants.
"Because I have no intention to really."
He looks at the drones going about their business.
"I do not mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

Micaela sighed deeply. "That's not an easy question to answer. Do you scare me? The person Tom Ascott does not. Major Tom Ascott does."

"There are a lot of reasons the previous expeditions didn't have a military command nucleus, and one of those reasons was to try to resist the chance that wherever we ended up we didn't end up with a society of the strong, by the strong, for the strong."

"But then ships started disappearing and we began to wonder if we needed the military after all. Fast forward 150 years and we're way off course, in a sabotaged ship, trying to figure out what was done to us. This is the perfect excuse for Captain Dorn to declare martial law for the safety of us all. And when he does..."

She was silent for a moment; the fact that she didn't say if weighing heavily in the air.

"I want to trust that the military machine is on our side. I would love nothing more than to follow orders, be part of the solution, and know that when the problem is in the past that we'll go back to a society for the people. But what if we don't? What if Captain Dorn is so concerned that something like this might happen again that he doesn't relinquish command? A dictatorship founded under the best of intentions is still a dictatorship."

"And I don't necessarily think that would be wrong. It's not like democracies don't screw things up as well. But in the latter, if something goes wrong I can be part of the solution. In the former, I'm helpless. I don't like being helpless Tom."

In light of that, her acts of rebellion made a lot more sense. She wasn't a smart ass to irritate or because she was too undisciplined to keep her inner monologue to herself. She rebelled, in whatever small and insignificant way she could to try to prove to herself that she wasn't helpless.

"I can't help but notices that you say 'when' he does, as if it is a given already." Ascott nods in understanding. "He has every reason indeed. But then we have the fact that we are out here, far away from everything we know, and most likely with no home planet to return to, even if we had a way to do so. Yeah, he has every reason to, but he hasn't. And he wont." The major fumbles around in his chest pocket, prying out a crumpled pack of smokes. As he lights one he offers the packet to Micaela.
"The captain has thought about it though. So have I. We discussed the option, and decided against it. It is not what this mission is about. And this still is our mission. We will find a planet to live on miss Nieves, and once we establish a colony, our standing orders are to see to a democratic government of said colony. A council of elders if you will, chosen by all members of this voyage. If the captain takes seat in that council it will be because people choose to have him there."
He blows some smoke circles, staring into the distance for a while.
"Why does me being a major scare you so much then? Bad experiences with the military?"

"I want to believe you." she said, waving away the cigarettes. "I want to be wrong, but as long as you have the guns you are going to scare me."


Micaela didn't respond for a long time. Tom was convinced that she wouldn't when she finally started talking, refusing to meet his gaze. "I was 14 when the Latin Summer started. Venezuela finally broke down into civil war and Brazil followed suit three months later. Everyone saw Venezuela coming, but Brazil... The bigger they are, the harder they fall, and when Brazil fell the whole damn continent felt it. Then the cartels in Columbia, Peru and Bolivia stepped up their game, seeing an opportunity. Argentina, where I'm from, weathered the storm, but it was a brutal couple of years. Even once the new governments had taken control, it would be a decade before the roving band of militants finally stopped terrorizing South America."

"Can you imagine what it was like to be a young woman growing up in that? Fear of the dark wasn't just a silly superstition. There were evils out there, waiting for their chance to strike. Or, in some cases, not waiting so much. I lost friends. I lost..." her voice cracked. "I lost my sister. They took her, and they... they did that to her for almost two weeks before they killed her. Men with power because they had guns and we didn't."

Micaela was starting to lose the fight to the tears that demanded release. "It's not fair to you or the captain or anyone else on this ship. It was ultimately the military and the police that put things right. Those of us that made it to the other side were stronger for it. But we didn't all make it."

"I am truely sorry for your loss," Ascott responded after a long silence.
"South america was hell. The regiment lost good men there fighting to help the people. My father lost some friends in Bolivia. He never quite became himself again."
The major then started to roll up one leg of his fatigues, reaching for a hidden holster on his lower leg. He handed Micaela a small .22 pistol.
"Here. That's one fear I can take away. Level the playing field. You won't have to fear any gun when you have one yourself. If anyone complains, tell them I gave it to you. I'll let Lt. Maxwell know too."

Tom hops off the pallets then, straightening his pants.
"You know, we're not all that different you and me. We both tend to cling to what we know. I'll let you get back to your work. Perhaps I'll see you around dinnertime in the mess hall."

Micaela's gaze followed Tom's hands as he reached for the small sidearm.

No, no, no, no... This is not what I want.

She accepted the weapon from him, the small machine weighing more heavily in her hands than it had any right to.

You don't understand. More guns isn't the solution. More guns just makes it worse. I don't want to be armed, I want to know I can trust the men and women that are.

The young woman finally looked the Major in the eyes after he straightened, the moisture encircling her eyes still casting sharp reflections.

He doesn't know that I know how to use this. He doesn't know I've killed. I cried for him and he gave me a gun.

"Yeah..." she said weakly, pulling the gun to her chest. "I'll see you around."

Hypocrite.

Micaela's drone perform admirably. Systematically the map out the cargo hold, providing Micaela with a detailed mapping of its layout and workings. She finds nothing out of the ordinary. However one of the drones reveals there is another hold beyond the six known. It does not however show any accesspoint, and cannot look past its outer walls.

Triumph and dread mixed in Micaela's gut as she looked at the data. She suspected there was some space on the ship that they weren't aware of, but a whole cargo hold? How the hell did someone keep that secret.

"Boss." she started, paging Jennifer. "We've got a confirmed blind spot near the cargo hold. I've got no obvious ingress or egress, and the size is significant, perhaps as large as a cargo hold. Walls are shielded as well, so I can't see what's inside."

As she finished she saw the non-urgent request for her assistance back in Security to break into the dataslate they found.

She reopened the connection. "On my way back now. Drones are on standby why I wait for further instructions. Might as well take a crack at that dataslate."

>> To: Ship Security

>> From: Medical Facilities

As soon as she entered, the imposing size of the cargo hold left Edel open-mouthed and stopped her in her tracks. She took a few steps in, stopping to rest her hands on a handrail that separated whoever was on that platform from emptiness. The utility bots moved around, downwards and upwards the intricate maze of shelves and storage units, but a few walking lone figures dwarfed by the sheer size of the complex made her truly realize what was before her eyes.  She turned to Raven and, wide eyed, mouthed 'holy shit', then turned back towards the overwhelming wide space of the hold, marveling at it for a few more moments. I have the feeling it will never get old, she thought with a smile.

Finally, she snapped out of it and promptly said: "Hey Marco! Could you tell us where are our storage units?"

"Woah" Raven followed suit in her stunned expression, "There must be all sorts of cool stuff stored away in here..."

She started mooching around the cargo in her immediate area looking for anything interestingly labeled...

She hums in agreement to Raven, as her mind was reviewing the possible reasons for her being ignored again by the ship's AI. Did I annoy him? Wait. Can you even annoy a software. She shook her head, as if the action would get rid of those thoughts for her.

As Edel walked to the crate her friend was inspecting, she noticed a sleek touchscreen terminal beside it, integrated in the wall. Curious, she approached it and started exploring the menus. Soon enough, the section for database searching popped up. She inputted her name and two surnames. A single result was returned. Perfect. After she got the needed directions, she turned to Raven. "Hey! You can insert your name here and it will tell you where your luggage is stored."

Your storage is in bay 3, row 18, level 7, Edel. Have a nice day.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Sun 27 Aug 2017.

Oh. I guess I was being paranoid after all. She shrugs. "Thank you Marco!"   Then, smiling to Raven: "Or you could just ask." She walked to a lift and pressed a button to call it. It immediately opened. She turned back to the other woman, waiting patiently for her.

Raven is studying a few storage lockers. Just simple regular gym lockers, each colonist had been assigned one to put personal belongings in. Hers is out there too, somewhere.

Seeing Raven absorbed in her surroundings, Edel shrugs and boards the lift. She expected to get lost in the huge maze, but the directions were very clear and easy to understand. A small terminal was at the bottom of the tall shelf. She typed in the coordinates that Marco gave her and watched as a utility bot integrated in the framework of the structure moved towards her belongings from a now dead planet. She fidgeted impatiently as the bot slowly moved towards her. As soon as the platform touched the floor, in a heartbeat she was already opening the crate, pulling out and opening her luggage. Clothes? Check. Violin? Check. Laptop.            Fuck.           Oh here it is, check. Lab stuff? Check. Books? Check. Uhhh, what's this?           Oh yeah my meds. Check. And misc stuff. Okay, perfect.

She stood up and started pulling on her shoulders a suitcase with shoulder straps. It took much more effort than she was willing to admit. She rested her head on the crate, panting. The sweat on the fabric of the jumpsuit created an unpleasant and itchy combination. Okay, change first. A quick look around confirmed that she was alone in this section, so she took out a pair of sweatpants, a light loose t-shirt and the first pair of underwear she found. She stripped down and quickly changed in her more comfortable clothing. She sighed in relief. With effort, she got the previous suitcase on her shoulders, pulled out the trolley handle of a larger suitcase and took with the other hand her violin's case. Slowly, she made her way to the entrance.

Raven looked up to find Edel had already wondered off to find her belongings.

Whoops got a bit lost in thought there

She looked around to find the machine that she vaguely remembered Edel mentioning to her. Just insert my name huh? She tapped her name in quickly and hit the return key.

Her name and the location of her belongings flashed up on screen.

Raven Millicent Haywood:
bay 12, row 18, level 7

She quickly repeated the location a few times in her head to make sure she had it and headed off towards Edel who was waiting at the lift for her.

"I won't be long!" She smiled.

She power walked off to find her locker and grabbed all off her belongings. She changed into her robe-like brown dress Mmmm, so much more comfortable There wasn't much else there. A small case with some other clothes and makeup. A small and currently empty secure box and a bag full of notebooks mostly written in.

She power walked back to Edel who was waiting for her. "Let's go!"
This message was last edited by the player at 07:56, Tue 29 Aug 2017.

Panting, she snorted. "Either you are a very light traveller, or I'm a heavy one." After a pause she added: "I think it's the latter." After a few more paces, she noticed your clothing: "Hey, that dress suits you perfectly! Are you trying to make me look bad?" She said jokingly between huffs and puffs.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:22, Tue 29 Aug 2017.

Raven grinned. "Thanks!" She smiled. "I'm sure you look gorgeous too when you're all dressed up! .... Uhhh not that you're not already..." She paused awkwardly and changed the subject. "Yeah I'm a light traveller. This time at least I sold everything when we left earth and brought the basics and a plastic card full to the brim with credits so I can make my way and open up a new bar quite looking forward to the challenge!" She announced with a grin.

She sighed. "Your move was actually the wisest one. I just couldn't give up a lot of stuff. You have no idea of much I've paid and fought to bring all of this aboard." She stared in empty space, remembering the conversations with the boarding staff. "Yup, not my proudest moment." Edel groaned as she climbed a small step. "Oh god this was a huge mistake."

To: Barracks Section >>

"What the hell?" Rick cursed loudly as he looked at Jordan in disbelief. The soldier at their feet was clearly dead, the sports jock grinning as he kicked the trooper for good measure.
"That was not the plan!"

"What plan?" Colt replied with a shrug. "We woke up one hundred and fifteen years late. What plan could there possibly still be?"


"Shut up both of you, and disposed of that mess. You better hope I shut down Marco's eyes and ears in time or we will have security all over this place in no time!" Musashi snarled, her low-grav rifle slung over her shoulder.
"Then help me find the hatch. It has to be here somewhere!"

Thornby was still staring as Jordan grabbed the trooper's legs, dragging him to a large stack of crates marked 'Bedlinnen'. When he finally came to his senses the selfprovlaimed rockstar quickly hurried over to open the lid of the closest one. Together the men dropped the soldier inside, then got to work looking for their objective. Fast, methodical, like they had practiced countless times before.

"I've secured the access door to this part of the bay," Jordan smirked as he tossed aside the blowtorch he had used to weld the seams shut.
"Did you find a hatch yet?"

"Look mate," Thornby replied irritably, "We're not even sure its in this hold. It could be in any of the twelve cargo bays."

"It is here, or in four. These are the only ones above that hidden hangar bay. The access must be here. Keep looking!"

"I never should have agreed on this mission!" Thornby cursed. "I was doing fine building myself a nice musical career. Fething CIA arseholes and their blackmailing"

"As I recall you jumped on the chance to get off world buddy, so don't blame my employers!"

"Yeah well, it was better than the alternative wasn't it? At least they chose this method."

Jordan stopped the search, staring at Richard. A cold, hard stare, betraying only barely controlled rage. Rage and disgust.
"That is still an option," he spat. "Stop being a pussy, and do your job."

Jennifer soon reaches the entry Marco indicated for the cargo bay, out of view from the three people arguing inside as they are clearly looking for something. Flanked by her security staff and four marines, the men quickly take up position opposite the doors.
Unfortunately, it has been welded shut.

From: Rec Deck

   The doors being welded shut was a new wrinkle on the usual barricade situation.  "Marco, I need another way in."

If you move back some fifty meters there is an air duct that leads to the upper part of the cargo hold Jennifer. You should just be able to fit through.

The commfeed beeps again. "Also, looks like this Colt Jordon is a plant, his file is simple, 'extreme sport's but no dates. I'm thinking CIA."

   Lt. Maxwell commed back, "Yeah, and I know that we have to keep Mister Jordan alive for the medical people, too.  Keep looking for another way out they might use to escape.  Nobody welds a hatch shut without having another way out."

   Jen moved her people back to the air duct.  The prospect of climbing through the air duct didn't really make her day, but a job that needed doing was a job to get done.  She got a boost from two of the guys and opened the vent cover.  Jen could manage easily enough, but the guys with here wouldn't be able to make it into the hold.  She instructed her people to keep an eye on the air duct and detain anyone leaving it that wasn't her, then went in.

A slow crawl further and Jennifer reached the cargo bay end of the duct. Behind the mesh shutter, some 8 feet below, she saw the three looking for something amongst the storage shelves. Something on or in the floor.

Suddenly they stopped, the one called Thornby raising his hand...
"Shh... Did you hear that? Someone's trying to get through the door."

The other male, a well trained man, took a few steps towards the welded shut hatch. he held a pistol casually at his side.
"No matter, they will need to cut through it. And I have a surprise for them if they do. Keep looking."

From inside the duct Jennifer couldn't see the woman, Musashi.

   Maxwell backed carefully down the duct until she could safely subvocalize into her ship link.  "Marco, the welded cargo bay door is rigged with a trap.  Warn everyone in the corridor not to be near the door if they open it, and cover the exit after they do."

"Found it!"

All three gathered around the stack of crates Jordan had been removing, looking at the grating in the floor of the cargo bay.

"You sure this is the one?"

"It must be," Colt replied. "It's the one directly above hangar 4."

"But there ain't no bloody hangar 4."

"Exactly," Jordan grinned. "That's the whole point of finding this grate innit? If they had put hangar 4 on the blueprints everyone would know they carried a highly experimental craft."

"I still don't get why we are doing this," Thornby stated. "We are way off target, why bother?"

The woman slapped him on the back of his head.
"Because that is our mission. And we will complete our mission!"

"Damn right we will," the jock stated as he started to unscrew the grating.

   Jen crawled to the vent opening and removed the covering as quietly as possible.  She quietly commed to her team, "We need to take Colt Jordan alive.  Execute door opening on my mark.  Three...  Two...  One...  Mark."  Maxwell tossed the cover across and down the corridor, then dropped to the floor with her shotgun at the ready.

At the mark Micaela's torchdrone immediately began cutting, resulting in an explosion that drafted back through the hallway. The drone itself, and the six marines with it, were blown back into the walls and turbolift doors, knocking out several, maybe even killing a couple. The drone immediately went offline.
The door however, was most certainly open.

At the mark Jennifer dropped down into the hold, shotgun at the ready. The three suspects immediately dropped too, scattering behind the crates. Soon, several bullets wizzed by Jennifer's position, shot without any true aim, meant to tie her down.
 Then she saw Thornby running for the next isle of crates.

"F***!" Micaela growled from Security as she watched the charge decimate the response force. "Does not one know what minimum safe distance means?"

But before those men had hit the floor, her remaining drones were moving into the cargo hold at high speed. As tempting as it was for the operator to take direct control of one to ensure Colt was taken alive, putting her undivided attention on one meant she was ignoring the other six that were left. Besides, they didn't need her help. They knew how to zap someone until that person fell down.

So she kept eyes on everything at once and waited for the situation to evolve.

"Heads up! Drones!" Musashi yelled at Jordan as she saw the first drones racing inside. She hoped he could hear her over his gun firing at the security chief. Where was Thornby running off to anyway? She had no time to think about that now though.
As soon as she saw the drones coming she took a bead at the first one, firing her pistol with two hands to steady herself. She had expected to be rusty after 115 years of sleep, but the feeling of the pistol grip in her hand brought back memories remarkably quickly.
She squeezed the trigger gently, twice, hitting the first drone dead centre.
It didn't go down.
It didn't even show signs of damage.

She fired twice more. This time she hit a lense of some sorts, and a short burst of sparks came from the metallic body of the thing.
Musashi jumped up to relocate, turned a corner as the drone she had hit dropped to the floor, rolling forward towards her even without being capable of flight.
She moved fast, needed a new cover.

Crap.

Eye to eye with another drone Lee Jay Musashi raised her pistol while running, hoping she would hit the thing as she passed under it.
The arced lightning hit her hard, numbing her senses, tightening her muscles. Her shot flew off into nowhere as her legs refused to coorporate. She hit the floor hard, hearing the snap of her nose breaking on the metal floorboards. Then things went black.

   Lt. Maxwell called out "Ship Security!" before she winged a shot toward the running man.  Normally she would have paused what she was doing for a moment, but she was a little busy to wait for a reply with bullets flying around her.

Seeing Thornby run, dodging bullets, Jennifer fires a shot. She clearly sees the slug hit the australian rockstar in his side, blood spatter coating the shelving behind him as he is flipped over by the force of the blow. He remains where he lands, unmoving.

"Screw you!" Jordan yells back as he fires a few more shots blind.
"Lee? Richard?" Hearing the distinct click of his empty pistol, and with drones and security moving in on him, he gives one last ditch effort to pull out the grate.

Then he is gone.

7 drones and 3 mutineers meant that each mutineer got at least two in pursuit while the seventh performed overwatch. Lee had taken out one, but then she was down. A moment later Richard was down as well. A drone stayed with each, while the overwatch drone remained in place. That left 1 moving to join the 2 that were already in pursuit of Colt. They had eyes on him when he opened the grate, and were ready to follow him down. They only waited for confirmation.

"Lieutenant, do I pursue?" Micaela's voice asked over Jennifer's comms.

   Maxwell saw what was happening.  She responded over her comm, "Yes, pursue, but we need him alive."

   She would much rather have a drone be the first thing go down that particular rabbit hole.  It wasn't cowardly, just cautious.  "Marco, there is a vent of some kind in the floor of this cargo bay right in front of me.  Access the blueprints or plans, whatever, and tell me where this vent leads."

"Unit Four, Five, Eight, pursue target."

Following her instructions the drones dove for the entry into the gap. If they lost room to fly they could deploy treads to continue the pursuit. And given their size, anywhere a human could go they should be able to follow.

   The ship's AI wasn't answering.  Maybe it didn't understand what Jen wanted.  Maybe Maxwell's link wasn't functioning for some reason.  The breakdown of communication was disconcerting, but not totally unexpected.  Jen would go in blind if she had to, but there was still another way of learning what she needed.

   "Miss Nieves, my link to Marco seems to be out for some reason.  What are your drones telling you?"

Forgive me Jennifer. Blake Germaine had me shut down communications to you so as not to warn people of your presence.
I am not at liberty to disclose the location of the vent you inquired about. Please redirect your querie to the captain or major Ascott.

The first drone drops into the ducts, tracing the movements of the man called Jordan towards the underbelly of the ship, easily following heat traces his movement has left behind. As it traces a corner in the duct system Micaela notices a small square package along the wall, like a piece of clay, with a blinking red led light.

A fraction of a second later all systems of drone Four go iffline as Jennifer hears a loud explosion. A few meters to her left part of the cargo bay floor rips open, belching out pieces of air duct, drone and cabling.

Clearly Jordan is not above using explosions to stop people from following him.
Meanwhile the man called Thornby slowly starts moaning, the wound in his side catching up with his metabolism, the pain waking him up.

   The Lt looked down the hole hoping to see what was visible down there and realized that she wasn't getting down there with what gear she had on her person.  She activated her link.  "Marco, I need a medical trauma team and more security people here now."

   Maxwell then hit her comms.  "Major Ascot, a perp named Jordan disappeared down a vent in a cargo bay.  Jordan left a booby trap which took out a drone and part of the deck floor.  Marco's AI is stonewalling me as to where the vent leads.  I need some answers five minutes ago if I'm going to stop Jordan."

   Jen heard Thornby moaning.  She looked around the immediate area for some kind of first aid kit.  She wanted answers and she wouldn't get them from a dead man.

"D*****." Micaela growls. "Units five and eight, maintain a minimum distance of 15 meters. Unit five, alpha position, excavation and resume pursuit."

Then the operator switched lines back to Lieutenant Maxwell. "I've got two active drones left unless you want me to pull the babysitters off of our two downed conspirators. I'm unsure of the damage caused by the explosion, but it would be a miracle of Five and Eight don't have to clear or cut to get through, and that will slow them down."

Her sitrep complete, Micaela started to pull up schematics of the Marco Polo, trying to identify exactly what was beneath them (or at least what the schematics indicated was down there).

Thornby is down alright, Maxwellś shot having gone straight though tendons and muscles alike, having ripped a decent chunk out of his abdomen. The man is bleeding out quickly, and even a simple medikit will likely do nothing to save him.
The woman Musashi, knocked out by Nieves' drone, shows stable lifesigns, having not been actually wounded by the electric jolts.
Maxwell notices a large portion of the floor has given way now, and the resulting holes have opened up a hallway below that is not on any of the blueprints.

Much to Micaela's frustration Marco refuses to allow her access to any of the files that could possibly reveal what is below. According to the ship schematics there is... nothing... there.

"Boss, can you run this up the chain? The schematics Marco is giving me indicate that this section of the cargo hold floor is up against vacuum on the other side. But since, if that was the case, everyone in there would have been spaced by that explosion, something is wrong with the schematics. Any chance your rank can get us birds on the outside of the ship, looking at the piece of it Marco is certain isn't there?"

As she spoke she sent instructions of Unit Three, the one babysitting Thornby that was about to not be busy any longer. Those instructions called for a full sensor sweep of the floor of the cargo hold. The entire purpose of these drones had been to look for spaces on the ship that they didn't know were there, and she had equipped them accordingly. Even if the entire area was shielded from every scanning technology known to man, she should at least be able to determine the dimensions of the blocked space.

   Maxwell took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  "Miss Nieves, I already did.  Please keep your drones on this level.  Insure that the woman doesn't go anywhere until some additional security people get here.  Major Ascott is on his way down.  Ask him for further instructions and help him any way that you can.  I'm going into the rabbit hole.  I'll see you on the other side."

   The security officer checked to make sure that her equipment was secured.  She looked into the hole in the deck.  She muttered to herself, "If I live through this, I'm asking for a raise."  Then, before her common sense overrode her sense of duty, she jumped.

Jennifer's compass beeps.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:22, Wed 22 Nov 2017.