The Shuttlecraft is fitted into a docking cradle on the ventral hull of the Nighthawk Corvette, a S31 Moonwing almost melds with the lines of the bigger ship, though unlike the Corvette, designed for operation in a vacuum with attended assemtry, jutting antenna and sensor structures, the Moonwing shuttle is smooth and aerodynamic, capable of entering the atmosphere of a planet and landing on the surface.

You have to climb down through the bottom of the Corvette and down a short double-sealed airlock to get into the ship. The shuttle does not possess an gravity field and you find yourself floating as soon as you enter the airlock. Several sealed crates are pushed in behind the away team by the deck crew.


The control compartment is a cramped, enough room for two pilots to pile into navigation harnesses and helms. Pressed into the bulkhead of the craft rather than lying in a depression as on the Shackleton.

The Shuttle itself has about 4 tons of bulk cargo space, half of that taken up by a small ground vehicle designed for hauling and various pieces of equipment stacked in sealed containers in each corner of the bay.

There is a small crew accommediation area, not much bigger than entire bridge of the mother ship, though even more crowded by low hanging piping and cables. The lighting is dim, and the lamps glow with a soft crimson as the hatch closes. There is perhaps enough space for 10 people if everyone pushed together, shoulder to shoulder.

There is no internal access to the engine compartment, however small consoles labled 'weapons' 'sensors' and 'systems' hang from the ceiling, ready to be pulled down.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:10, Fri 18 Jan 2013.

Luthar stood outside the shuttle for a moment, and stared at it.  He loved ships and always has.  This was bigger than the shuttle he was used to flying, but that wasn't a big deal to him, after all he was still on a high after piloting the Corvette.

Luth stepped aboard the shuttle and headed straight for the pilot's compartment.  He slipped into the navigation harness and put the helm on and looked over the controls, doing his best to familiarize himself with the new shuttle as quickly as possible.


This message was last edited by the GM at 00:30, Sat 19 Jan 2013.

"Alright, I know most of you are muddwellers, and voidwalkers never had much sense for this kinda thing either, so I think it's best we set down some ground rules."  Dizzy said, drifting aimlessly in the airlock until she could get a handhold along the bulkhead, "First up, visors down.  Snowblindness is a real thing, and it doesn't hit you all at once.  This is one of those things the tourism board stresses back home but we still get at least one case a day.  Secondly, stay together.  Footing is treacherous, if you start to slip and fall your buddy is the only thing keeping you from going where the ice wants you.  Don't skimp on the rations, your body needs heat if you're going to survive out here, and it makes it by burning food.  Snow absorbs sound, and without any breaks the winds only further muffle things, so keep your head on a swivel because you won't hear them coming from nearly as far away as  you're used to.  We should set up a rally point as soon as we touchdown, in case things go badly out there and we get separated."

Dizzy didn't move through the interior of the shuttle with any great grace, no pushing off of surfaces to glide to her destination.  She used her free hand and pulled herself along, staying close to a wall so she could correct her trajectory when her incidental body motions sent her off course.

"Grey, you're our tech.  What sort of precautions should we take for the radiation, that can kill us every bit as dead as the snow.  Should we expect it to interfere with comm signals?  If so we should break out the flares so Luther can spot an errant team from the air." she looked over, "Speaking of An'bhaird, when can we expect a meteorological report on the LZ?  If we've got a blizzard coming on us, we're going to want tethers, I don't care how dense the artificial structures are."

She grabbed hold of one of the passenger seats and rolled over in place, stowing her bag in a compartment before slipping into the harness and strapping herself in.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:32, Sat 12 Jan 2013.

Luthar nodded to Dizzy as she requested info on the LZ. "Checking now..." He started punching some buttons on the console in front of him, looking specifically for weather patterns where they would be landing..

[Private to The Void: Rolled a Nav check, in case you wanted it. You rolled 6 using 2d6+1 ((4,1)).  Not sure what all it will get me, or even if a Nav check is what was need.]

"Well... I'm just gonna stand here, out of the way. Nothing I can really do on a ship anyways." Maire said with a sigh as she manuevered herself into a corner away from the others and pulled out her book again.

Dizzy stole a glance at Maire from out of the corner of her eye.  Anyone else, she might have reprimanded for such a sullen attitude, calling it self-defeating.   But not Maire.  Despite ostensibly being responsible for monitoring the morale and mental health of the crew, she'd managed not to share more than two words with the Special Advisor.  And those had been "Excuse me".

It wasn't that the older woman had done anything, exactly.  Dizzy, like most Gareshi, was simply nervous around psychics.  During their long isolation from the rest of the human race, her people had lacked access to proper psionic training facilities.  That did not, however, mean that psychics were not born among her people.  Every Gareshi grew up hearing stories.  Strange phenomena that would plague a town until one of the youngsters was found dead in his home with blood leaking out of his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.  Eerie witches who were shunned and pushed to the outskirts of their communities, too useful or powerful to simply kill, but too unstable to ever trust.  There was an old legend that, out on the ice, there was a Feral psychic who'd somehow adapted his physiology to the harsh wastelands of their home, who roamed the world gathering promising children and forcing them to follow in his path.  Whenever hunting parties went missing and were never found again, it was said that Karnath and his Brood had eaten them.  The Wisemen from before The Scream were only legend to most living Garesh, placed in the hallowed memories of their legends along figures like the First Prophet.  Great men who the world lived forever in the shadow of.

And now she was to be locked in a cramped shuttle with one of them.  Oh, she knew that the Indari claimed to still hold the secrets of the Wisemen, that there were staple and reliable mystics among the stars.  It was part of what had fueled a sub-sect of Gorumites to regard the Indarian House as pseudo-divine.  But to hear, and to know, were two different things.  Maire was cordial, but often seemed . . . detached from events, which echoed all of Dizzy's worst fears.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:32, Mon 14 Jan 2013.

"You want my advice? Pressure suits. But the Doc has anti-rad meds to hand out." Annie replied. "I'd go with the suits, personally." She sighed.

"Problem is, that moon gets directly over head? We're cooked. Don't matter what we're wearing or what we've taken, or even if we're inside a building. The shuttle'll shield us, but we're on a time limit once we're down there." She quirked a grin, "And we might find ourselves flying blind back home."

She moved round to the Sensor-station and clamped herself into the seat with the ease of experience, pulling the monitor down and working with it for a moment, before grimacing. "Well, the good news is that the sensorium on this bucket's off-frequency, so the radiation shouldn't interfere with it. On the other hand, we'll be flying blind. The weather down there is terrible." She kept her unfamiliarity with the ship to herself, for now, hoping that there weren't any surprises that hadn't shown up on her little diagnostic.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:27, Thu 17 Jan 2013.

Maire's eyes slowly widened before her book slipped through her fingers and slammed into the ground. Her hands slammed over her ears before she started screaming and fell to the floor, curling into a fetal position. Her screaming almost stopped immediately as she clamped her moth shut, but she could still be seen sporadically jerking about as she attempted to recover.

"She's having a seizure!" Annie yelped, recognising the signs. She moved from her place to attempt to pin the psyker down and prevent her from dislocating anything in her flailing. "Probably Shuttlefright. Someone grab her bag, she needs a muscle relaxant." She snapped at the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:53, Thu 17 Jan 2013.

The ship shudders as Luth disengages the docking clamps and slowly begins to seperate from the Shackleton.

Unlike the larger ship, there is no observation port onboard the Moonwing shuttle and the only view out into the darkness is from a few solid screens located around the cramped cabin which switch on to reveal the outside. The shape of the scout ship dwindles rapidly as the shuttle pulls away and accelerates towards the white surface of the deadly world.

Pilot An'bhaird is flying. The control harness puts him on the outside of the ship, visual sensor data and tactile sense, even sounds being synthesized for his senses from the array of panels and antenna on the skin of the shuttlecraft. It's just like the interface on many ships, the Shackleton included, but the ship is more responsive than any shuttle he's flown before. And it's armed.

Indari Military 'Piranha' Swarm Launcher Type-D

Pulses slowly in the bottom right corner of his eye, indicating a weapon in standby mode.

You hit atmosphere after nearly an hour and the ship jolts, buckling at the impact of buffeting winds. The Shackleton science officer contacts you: Sensors indicate you're dropping right into massive storm system that's rolling out of the valley where the facility you located lies. You're off course and you need to correct or you could be pulled into the storm and crash!

OOC: Luthar, make a piloting check.

Kerne ko set! Luth cursed to himself as he was jarred by the storm.  He  allowed his instincts to take over as he did his best to regain control of the ship.

OOC: You rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((5,2)).

The ship shudders as he guides her into the wind, the smooth airframe of the aerospace shuttle, the ship, once silent but for the thrum of the main drives is now filled with the deafening roar of the wind and the whine of the reactor powering the small spike drive as it pushed them through the atmo and the storm.

A few tense minutes go by, Maire still twitching quietly, eyes like dinner plates and unfocused. The ship is rocked again by cross winds and it is shortly very cold as all the excess heat bleeds out into the arctic storm. The radio is just static now, unable to pick up anything from the ship above...

There's a sudden jolt and everyone is thrown against their safety harnesses, the ship pitches forward and everyone is weightless for several seconds!

The engine's roar increases and the ship powers out of the storm, the external monitors show the glow of the two stars above, cutting through the icy air. Ahead lies the valley and in it, a cluster of small black structures and one massive tower, reaching up about 200 meters over the edge of the valley ridges.

Luthar breathed a sigh of relief.  He had every bit of confidence in his skills, he just wasn't sure if they'd be enough. "We made it through that one," he spoke into the comms piece in his helmet, "How's Maire doing back there?"  He didn't want to take his eyes off the screens that he was using to guide the shuttle along, but he knew something had went wrong.

Nor te solka.  Please let us get through this mission alive.

"GROV'NO!" Dizzy shouted, slipping into her native dialect as Maire started to have some kind of violent reaction.  The knuckle on her trigger finger went white under her thick glove, proper trigger discipline the only thing keeping her rifle silent.  Her first thought was that she was in the grip of some kind of violent vision, the vapors of Metaspace pushing their way into her seared mind.  And the last thing she wanted to do was attract her attention when she was in such an unstable frame of mind.  She'd heard stories of grown men smeared across the the street by telekinetic pressure for less.

Fortunately, Annabel was a bit more seasoned in this regard.  The moment a course of action besides "Blow away the psyker before she kills us all!" was presented, Dizzy unhooked herself from her harness and moved into action.  Since Ms. Grey had taken the job of physically restraining the girl, Dizzy pulled her bag out from the the compartment and started rummaging through the pockets in a rapid but thorough fashion, turning anything that looked promising over in her hands before jamming it back into place when it turned out to be the wrong thing.

"Drokkin' Shuttlefright --" she cursed under her breath, going over a litany of hard consonants.  It had to be one of these!

22:58, Today: Dizzy Hargrieve rolled 6 using 2d6. Perception Check.

The shuttle closes quickly on the compound, Luthar notices that there is no lake or liquid landing pool. A fly bye reveals a row of landing pads and autogantries lain dormant. Much of the compound seems to be free of ice and snow, and a few strange dead trees languish between lanes for foot traffic.

Landing lights flicker to life as you pass over, alerted to your presence.

You quickly notice all the storm shutters are closed and there is no sign of life, with the exception of a single unknown-class of shuttlecraft powered down and silent on the furthest launch pad.


OOC: okay people, decisions


This message was last edited by the GM at 23:17, Fri 18 Jan 2013.

Looking around at their options, Luthar was taking an interest in the other ship that was there.  Perhaps they were friendly, but perhaps not.  Always best to have caution in the forefront.  "Can someone check on Maire? We're going to need everyone on this one.  Any thoughts on as to where we should land? I'm thinking one of the landing pads, but not close to that other ship.  Who knows what or who is aboard, or nearby."

[private to The Void: With a comms check or something, would it be possible to hail the other ship, or the station itself?]

"My vote's for near the other one. We could fry components and need to scavenge it for repairs if it's a local one that's disabled... and if it's not, it could give me some clues about who we're dealing with." Annie explained. "Plus, that would mean it's from another culture, another society! It could be crawling with PreTech!"

13:20, Today: Dizzy Hargrieve rolled 3 using 2d6-2. An ill advised Tech(Medical) Check.

"Dammit!" for her part, Dizzy couldn't find anything that looked right Maire's bag, and more out of frustration than anything she applied brute force to the solution.  She was heavier than Annabel, more muscle weight, so she just tried her level best to help keep the girl from hurting herself until she wore herself out.  She sighed a bit when the muscular spasms finally quieted down.

"She's through it . . . for the moment, anyway.  Probably going to be some bruises on her later." Dizzy responded to Luthar's query about the woman.  "I'm completely out of my drokkin' depth on this stuff.  She's the doc, and the medical emergency . . . you'd think we'd have been briefed."

She kept near the woman, a bit antsy as she grabbed onto the shoulder strap of the adjacent harness, let the techie and the pilot care for the ship.  At least this was something she could do, lightly stroking the woman's hair and trying to making soothing, encouraging sounds, reassuring her that she was okay as they began to make their approach.

"Yeah, put us down near the other shuttle, but not the adjacent platform.  I don't want them bringing shipborn weapons to bear on us if it turns out that they're competition."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Tue 22 Jan 2013.

"Thanks for the update Dizzy.  That's something we can bring up once we get back, for now let's just make due." Luthar was completely out of his element when it came to helping others.  He'd flown ships damn near solo for years, so having others aboard, he felt...responsible, and didn't like it, but knew it was something he'd have to deal with and learn to use to make him a better pilot.  Flying for someone other than myself will make me sharper, quicker, and better.

"Roger, I'll land her nearby the other shuttle." Luth said as he moved the shuttle towards the landing pad next to the one adjacent to the other shuttle.

[Private to The Void: 16:10, Today: Secret Roll: Luthar An'bhaird rolled 6 using 2d6+2. Pilot landing check; If you wanted one.]

"Status? Report, shuttle-1." Master Farhenra's harsh voice cuts through the comms static "We lost you on sensors when you went into that valley. What do you see down there?"

Luthar guides the shuttle in a lazy loop around the compound once more before gliding in to land on the pad marked with a large Arabic '3' a full 60 meters from the other shuttle-craft.

[Private to Dizzy Hargrieve: You don't really help Maire much, but you don't make it worse either.]

Dizzy and Anna work together to keep Maire from hurting herself, but she's a little bruised up still and seems like she's just now coming out of shock.

The Moonwing-class lighter sets down on the pad with a jarring thud, landing on solid platforms is not the preferred method, but bereft of any bodies of water it will have to do.

The landing pad lights up at your approach and as soon as you're touched down firmly and your engines begin to power down the autogantry system lifts itself into standby position, various arms and unknown mechanisms waiting to be triggered.

The whine of the engine dies off and there is only silence in the warmth of the shuttle, a few instruments running of capacitor power and the static of the comms.

Luthar listened as Master Farhenra came over the comms.  "Master Farhenra, do you copy?  We hit a storm on the approach, but made it out safely.  There appears to be another ship here.  We've landed about sixty meters away.  It's dead though, no lights or anything.  There are a few other structures here as well.  Also, Maire is down sir.  She had some kind of episode or something, I'm not sure what as I didn't get a good view.  Dizzy and Annabel are working to help her. What are your orders sir?"

He knew that something like this required orders from above before continuing.  So he waited patiently in the harness for further instructions.

There is a period of silence and a new voice comes over the channel.

"This is the Shackleton, shuttle-1 be advised. We've lost you in the valley, something is screening our sensors. Activate your beacon if you're in trouble, should punch through the interference."

"Continue with mission as planned. Shackleton out."