***Four Thousand Years Ago***

It felt the doorway to its own realm closing behind it. Gradually it came to terms with the realisation that it may have to exist on this side indefinitely. The lure of power had been too much, rising from its passive state and being drawn across before it could properly prepare.

It would do what it always did; expand and grow when possible and conserve energy if not. The strange and alien environment in which it resided would take time to assimilate. A great behemoth traversing the void of space, full of power, metal and lesser organisms. It sensed the lesser organisms reacting to its presence (it briefly considered that they may have been some form of protection against infection); they would have to be dealt with before it could fully merge with its new host.




*** Two Days Ago ***


“This is the station Jalfraz to the unidentified cruiser,  you are currently on a collision course with us. Please alter your course. You are approaching Vast Empire territory please alter your course”

The bridge of the Vast Empire deep space mining station Jalfraz was filled with the intense return signal

The communications technician cut the transmission and turned to the commander.

“What is that ship, I don't recognise the design,”

“Computer suggests it's an old mandalorian cruiser sir,”

“Still nothing but that signal?”

“No sir, every time we send a signal it broadcasts that on all available wavebands,”

“Damnit, this is insane. How long until it reaches us?”

“As long as it keeps to its current velocity – and given that it's just drifting i'd call that a fair assumption – four hours,”

“Right, arm some men and get them on board one of the asteroid tugs. Get them to use the tug to alter its course so we don't get obliterated. As soon as its vector has been changed sufficiently tell them to get on board and find out what the hell is happening!”

“Sir.”



Raziel remained passive, observing the intel officer and waiting for him to explain the conversation he had just been played. He had been back a few days and they were already pestering him. Having gone awol partly through an assignment from one of their agents he had expected them sooner in all honesty. What he hadn't expected was for them to approach him in his capacity as an officer in the corps. Realising he would have to talk first he began.

“So what happened?”

“The tug docked and shifted the cruisers course as ordered. The boarding team went over to investigate and things got strange very quickly, listen.” he replied. With a tap on his data pad another recorded transmission began.



“This is mining operation four-zero-four transmitting on emergency channels to Vast Empire command. Reporting events of recent encounter with the cruiser Magellan. Eight hours ago the ship drifted into our sensor range on a collision course and refused to respond coherently to transmissions. We shifted the ships course with an asteroid tug and sent men aboard to investigate. After receiving an initial report about finding the preserved corpses of crew members we lost contact. We logged an illegal upload of the stations data files shortly after. The cruiser changed heading for the heart of Vast Empire space and then . . . Well we don't know what happened then. It went to super light speed but we don't know how, it certainly didn't look like an entry into hyperspace on the sensors. Along with this transmission we are encoding data files that record all the events of the last few days. Station manager Johan out.”



“When was this?” Raziel asked.

“A few days ago, what's more interesting is that we have some history on the Magellan. It was part of a battle fleet during the mandalorian wars nearly four thousand years ago, it was last seen jumping out of the plane of the galaxy, fleeing a Republic task force.”

“So we have to assume someone found the ships remains recently?”

“That would seem the logical option, we would normally attribute the rests to paranoia on the part of miners sat out in deep space for far too long.” Raziel shifted in his seat, leaning closer to the intel officers. This was no normal report, soon they would ask something of him or his men. “The data they sent in is irrefutable, whatever means that ship used to accelerate to super-light speeds, it wasn't anything we've encountered before. Also the life form scanners went haywire when the Magellan passed close enough, the computers couldn't decide if it was full of life or completely devoid of it.”

“It's headed this way?”

“It will be with us in two days or less. We have already assembled a task force to meet it, two Wildcard squads have already been mobilised and are en route on a Carrack-Class.”

“So how does this involve me?”

“You just have one task Major. As an experienced operator you are being sent out to observe and make the hard decisions,”

“Namely?”

“We want to find out what happened to that ship, but we're disturbed by its apparent course change. You've had experience of the abnormal before, you'll have overall mission control. If things don't go well there are two star destroyers assigned to his, you may have to order the Magellan  destroyed – with your men on board if necessary,”





***Present Day***

A human mind could never comprehend how it experienced its own existence. The closest a human came to its current state would be sleep, but that wasn't an exact parallel. Whilst it was still well somewhat aware of its surroundings and capable of (an equivalent to) thought it would take some time before the creature was fully roused and capable of action or unleashing more spores.

Sergeant Major Mum'taab was an experienced salvage operator in the Vast Empire space corp and given overall command of the boarding operation. He sat at the prow of the assault shuttle, four squad leaders stood behind him looking out the view port at the ancient cruiser. Phoenix and Wrangler squads of the space corp had worked with him before on operations, along with them were the usual handful of naval technicians and engineers to assess the state of the ship.

“Well this is an odd one,” he sighed.

“Indeed,” replied one of the female stormtroopers. Mum'taab assumed that Wraith and Iron Horse elite SCOPE squad's presence was warranted by the peculiar nature of the mission. As they got closer he pondered the Magellan. He had never seen such an old craft in such good condition before.

“This is Major Raziel, can the boarding party hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Mum'taab replied.

“We will be remaining within comm range for the duration, I am informed that the star destroyers will be joining us soon. Play this safe people, we never heard back from the mining party – keep in communication with me and pull out until we have back up if things get hot,” The Carrack-class cruiser had been the first to intercept the ancient cruisers shortly after it had appeared from nowhere on long range sensors. Raziel had made the decision to commence boarding before the naval back up arrived. The current armada surrounding the Magellan also included two light frigates and a recon vessel that was reporting some very strange readings right now.

It felt something akin to pain as it felts it's skin pierced. If it could feel anger it would. Instead it simply accelerated the reanimation process, it could feel all of its being rousing.

“This is the boarding party, docking controls were unresponsive so we have breached the hull. We detect normal atmospheric conditions,”

“That's quite unexpected. Proceed with caution,”

“Understood,” The stormtroopers filed off the boarding craft into the dark ship, rifle mounted torches providing the only light. The experienced space corp members had already taken off their helmets to better see in the conditions, but the wildcard members stubbornly kept their SCOPE armour intact.

The soldiers spread out into the immediate vicinity and secured the landing zone. Behind them the naval staff carried in several crates of equipment, scanners and cutting tools.

“Do we have power?” Mum'taab asked.

“The readings are really strange, but it seems so,” replied Durash the leading engineer, also an experienced salvage operator.

“Has anyone got a console,” he asked into the comms.

“Affirmative, Kira here, starboard corridor,” came a reply. Two naval support staff and Mum'taab moved ahead to the position Iron Horse were holding. Sure enough on one bulk head a control console was, like the rest of the ship, seemingly in perfect condition. The first technician approached the console, he plugged a diagnostic tool into the screen.

It flickered into life, but instead of displaying any information just emitted a repetitive sound.

“What's that?” Kira enquired.

“No idea, but its all I'm getting. All channels, all command signals, I'm getting nothing but variations of this signal.” the technician replied. He shrugged his shoulders, tried a few more operations on his device and the console and turned to Mum'taab. “Nothing.”

“Whats that noise?” enquired Raziel's voice, still listening in.

“Unknown,” Mum'taab reported. “Its an acoustic version of what we're getting from the ships computers, we cant seem to gain control of any systems.”

“Proceed with caution” Raziel reiterated.

“Right, Phoenix squad move up and hold this position, you two” he indicated the technicians. “Stay and try to get something out of the computer. Iron Horse take point, Wraith and Wrangler fall in behind us. We make our way to the bridge.”

“Sir!” shouted one of the soldiers up ahead. The Iron Horse squad leader rushed forward into the darkness, closely followed by Mum'taab. Laying on the floor up ahead was the body of a Mandalorian warrior, a stormtrooper standing over it. The head of the body was exposed, perfectly preserved.

“Shouldn't that corpse be four thousand years old sir?”

“The only explanation is vacuum preservation, but this ship's life support is functioning perfectly,” replied Mum'taab. “Are you seeing this Major?”

“Yes I am. I don't like this one bit,”

The three squads moved forwards into the bowels of the ship, technicians in their wake scanning and probing every corpse, console and access panel they came across. It felt their presence keenly now. It would not tolerate it.

OOC:

Ok here's the story:
Something not of this galaxy come to reside in the reactor of this ship millennia ago. It's conciousness is barely comprehensible by our standards, but somehow it has merged with the ship completely. Even the previous crew of the ship are now symbiotically linked to its being. Most of the ship will remain without lighting, enjoy describing the tense atmosphere and how it affects your interactions.

Do not feel like you have to start where I have finished off chronologically, feel free to go back to on board the carrack class cruiser before the boarding.


Themes to explore (up to you):

The apparently dead crew starts reanimating.
The ship itself starts working against you.
Spores emitted by the creature start linking you to its conciousness, it may even start possessing some of the boarding party – temporarily or otherwise.

-Set before Raziel’s post-

“You must be Mai.”

The tall, imposing figure of a man waiting for her outside of the Wraith barracks briefing room stood forward as she approached. Without hesitation he brought his left arm up in a crisp salute,

“Gunnery Sergeant Marka Suurriven. Reporting as ordered.”

“Stop that.” Mai snapped at him, irritated at the display. She had not slept since meeting with Havock and was struggling to process the speed at which things had progressed since then. Not only was she back in the armor of an elite Stormtrooper, she now had both the tags of Squad Leader and of a Sergeant displayed over her left breast.

Marka seemed unoffended by her tone, lowering his arm with little aplomb. His dark, steady gaze met hers; seemingly measuring her up against whatever standards existed within the depths of his mind. Mai stared back at him, noting the quiet confidence with which he carried himself. She had not had the pleasure of fighting alongside the man who would now serve as her second in command. But his record spoke highly of his skill in battle, and he seemed adequate enough for the task in which he was needed.

“Are the others inside?” Mai broke the silence.

“Waiting as you wished.” Marka responded, hitting the access panel at his side to open the door barring her entry, “After you.”

Mai lifted her chin and stalked into the room, wincing momentarily as her sharp vision struggled to adjust to the artificially lit interior. Without meeting the eyes of the Wraith soldiers on either side of her, she swept down the corridor between the chairs and leapt nimbly up the small rise of the platform where a holovid display was housed. It was in all likelihood expected that she give a grand, rousing speech to her squad to warm them to her presence and put their fears at ease. But Mai was not interested in stroking the overactive emotions of the humans who made up Wraith. To do so would suggest that she was interested in their lives beyond their capacity to serve.

“I am Mai.” She told them, her golden eyes flicking from face to face.  She pointed a single claw at Marka who was no standing stolidly at the rear of the room, “That is Marka. We are your new squad leaders. Are there any questions?”

A few of the troopers exchanged glances, seemingly thrown by her abruptness. Only one snorted in appreciation and spoke up from where he was sitting near the very front of the room, his arms crossed over his chest,

“I’m glad to see that you haven’t changed Mai.” Jegora Fal, her former squad leader from Jester Squad noted aloud, “It will help to cut down an awful lot of the bullshit around here.”

Mai narrowed her eyes as she considered whether or not to be offended by the comment. When she had seen Fal’s name on the squad roster she had recognized his placement for exactly what it was: a supervisory position to ensure that she played by the rules.  It seemed that even Havock’s faith in her capabilities had not been enough to ease the fears of High Command. But the officer’s placement was a blessing in disguise. He was a fine warrior, and would only aid her in crafting the squad into a lethal weapon capable of undertaking even the most dangerous of tasks.

“We have a new mission.” Mai finally decided to ignore the comment and moved onto her briefing instead, “A few days ago an old Mandalorian Cruiser named the Magellan came about on a collision course with a deep space Vast Empire mining station. It ignored requests to change course and was subsequently boarded by a team of men with whom the station lost contact with moments later.”

“Wait? A Mandalorian Cruiser?” One of the human’s interrupted her, the shock of light brown fur on his head and a pair of mismatched eyes identifying him as Anival, “In Vast Empire space?”

“That is what I said.” Mai answered him in a soft growl.

The Senior Sergeant opened his mouth as though to say something and then seemed to think the better of it. With a slight frown he leaned back in his chair and was silent.

“We are to go to this ship.” Mai continued after a moment’s pause, “And determine the fate of these men and the purpose of the crew. Our transport leaves in approximately two hours.”

Another brief period of silence greeted her before the members of Wraith recognized that the briefing was done. Slowly, one by one, they rose from their chairs and moved from the briefing room, more than one looking back in her direction as though struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

“Tell me Gunnery Sergeant.” Mai turned to address Marka who remained after the others had gone, “Did I not present the briefing in the correct manner?”

Marka offered a shrug of his armored shoulders, “Seemed fine to me. Short and sweet.”

“Sweet.” Mai tested the strange word on her tongue, “Yes. It was indeed quite sweet.”

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

-On-board the Magellan-

Mai did not like the ship. As soon as she had followed Iron Horse within the bowels of the vessel she had felt the fur on the back of her neck rise with trepidation. It had not settled since then, spurred by the consistent feeling of dread permeating her stomach. Though on the surface the Magellan seemed no different than any other ship, the presence of the preserved corpses hinted at strange proceedings beyond the typical scenarios she had encountered when boarding unfamiliar vessels in the past.

“That noise.” Jamasis murmured from her left, his rifle at ready, “I can still hear it.”

“Try not to focus on it.” Marka answered him from where he was leading point for the squad a few meters behind the rear of Iron Horse.

Mai nodded at the words though silently shared Jamasis’s dislike for the eerie tone. The signal seemed to ring throughout the entirety of the ship, to the extent that it had permeated the squad channel and now rang softly in all of their ears.

“There’s another one.” Jegora’s impassive tone momentarily drowned out the signal as he gestured with his weapon to a nearby human male sprawled on the floor nearby.

Mai dropped down to one knee next to the man, seeking to find clues to his apparent death. But his flesh was smooth and intact, and even seemed to glow beneath the beams of light streaking out from her squad’s mounted torches. Her sense of unease deepening, Mai pulled in a deep breath of the stale air around the man and let his scent linger on the tip of her tongue.

“He tastes…rotten.” She informed the others as she recoiled beneath her helmet, “As though he decomposes within.”

“And yet he looks as though he could rise at any moment and go on his way.” Nightowl moved up the Mai’s shoulder, a mixture of curiosity and fear sounding in his voice, “It is not natural.”

“No.” Mai came back to her feet and swept her right hand forward in a chopping motion to indicate that they should proceed, “It is not. Stay alert.”

The squad complied, moving slowly down the dark corridor towards where Iron Horse and the others had come to a halt in the distance. As they neared their position the corridor branched out suddenly, its walls curving to frame a wide, circular room filled with a series of elevators.

“The bridge is two floors up.” A technician was saying to Mum’taab, carefully examining the military laptop in his hands, “At least. It should be.”

“Should be?” The dour faced leader of the expedition seemed unimpressed, “I don’t want to waste time running about the entirety of the ship.”

“Well…er,” The tech wiped the back of his hand across his sweating forehead, “It’s just this is a very old ship and the records we have on file aren’t exactly in-depth.”

“So find some more definitive maps of the ship,” Mum’taab responded in a threatening tone, “And get these blasted lifts working.”

“Well, I would sir,” The tech wiped ineffectively at his forehead again, his face now pale, “But my laptop seems to be…er…deleting itself.”

“What?” Mum’taab turned to another of the techs standing nearby who glanced up helplessly at the Sergeant Major’s questioning look,

“I’m sorry sir. Same goes here.” The second tech slammed his hand on the keypad in frustration, “It’s like something has hacked in and corrupted the files. I can’t get a response.”

“Damn it.” Mum’tabb looked back to the rest of the boarding party, “We’re going to have to split up and try to find a way to the next level. “

Ugh, I got promoted and demoted in the same week. How does that even work? I mean, the promotion I'm happy with. The demotion, not exactly happy, but I'm not really great at leading people. What, a few missions as an ASL, and I got how many killed? Well, none actually, but how many times did I nearly get myself killed? And my squad members? Hell, half of them just left, for some reason my squad leaders seem to get distressed when I have command. Probably a good thing I got demoted. More time for shooting stuff and less work to do. Ugh, more chance to get myself killed though.

Why not just get yourself killed?

Now that is depressed even for me. Normally I am suicidal, and obsessive, recently I have become slightly mental and right now I am feeling depressed. But that is a bit random. And usually you're more sarcastic.

Stop saying you. Same person, I. Besides, why get yourself killed?

You, I, whatever, just said to kill myself.

Now things aren't going great, but that is an overreaction.

But you said it!

What? No I didn't.

"So other than talking to myself I now have another problem. And that's just what's in my head," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" asked Khalldryn.

"Nothing, I didn't say anything," Jamasis lied. Easier, he told himself, than being honest.

"Probably just me then. Actually, could be that sound. If I stepped at the wrong time, or moved my helmet or something."

"Uh yeah, maybe." Jamasis looked up as the squads gathered around something. It was a body, in pristine condition. There was some hushed conversation. Something about the bodies age and its condition. What does it matter? Prosthetics, cybernetics, synthetic maybe? A medical droid patched him up? Who cares?

"We're going to have to split up and find our way to the next level."

"So get on with it then," Jamasis muttered under his breath. Slowly the boarding party seemed to sort itself out, Wraith and Wrangler separating themselves from Iron Horse and Phoenix. There was a temporary awkward silence, disturbed only by the faint repetitive sound. The silence I can deal with, barely anyone has spoken since we landed. I've got myself for company, worryingly. But that sound is really getting to me. Weird, creepy maybe. Mostly just damn irritating.

"Right then," said Mai, turning to Wraith. Jamasis hadn't had much time to think about his new commanders. They kept changing too quickly. Either way as long as she didn't completely change everything and insist on standards, what did it matter? Just a different person to get yourself killed for.

A bit pessimistic, but much more like your obsessive self than you have been recently. Better, I admit.

What? All I was thinking about was that a new commander won't make a difference.

Yeah, just someone else to get yourself killed for.

Who said that?

You did.

What? To his dismay, he realised he had completely missed everything that had just been said. Improvising, he simply stayed at the rear of the two squads as the boarding party split itself in two. One group went left, and one went right. They had to reach the bridge of a ship. Four squads, two of them SCOPE squads, had to reach the bridge of a dead and powerless ship. Jamasis looked around. Most of the systems simply weren't running. The life support they knew was, plus some of the lights were. Occasionally they flickered, but it didn't make much difference with his helmet on.

"So where are we headed exactly? I mean, the bridge I know, but more detailed?" he asked Khalldryn.

"You forgot to listen? Once again? How do you survive if the only time you know what is happening, its because you planned it. You, particularly."

"Very helpful."

"We're looking for a way to get to the bridge. The tech guys, their files deleted themselves. Heh, all our equipment is going wrong. Computers, our comlinks, even these bloody lights," he gestured at the flickering overhead lighting.

OOC:

Due to a communication mix up Lucky's post got wiped here it is

Lucky had been walking quietly alongside some of her squad members, Wraith squad had been assigned to their group which she personally found a little awkward. The only person she seemed to have worked with in that squad was Jamasis, and that was a fair while back, things change and they could change very quickly.

As they kept on their endless walk on their journey to find a way to the bridge, the lights started flickering a lot more. Kira was close by, so she turned her head in her Squad Leader's direction and muttered "I don't like the looks of this..." before turning her head once more and staring straight in front of her. There wasn't much to see, beyond the beam that her scope light emitted and the occasional flicker of a light or two, the squads were plunged in a deep, inky darkness which seemed to be steadily encroaching on the space surrounding the troops.

As she kept at her quiet, steady pace she could hear some murmurs and felt a sudden change in the atmosphere, she felt cold all of a sudden, as though passing through waterfalls of ice cold water. The sensation filled her body quickly and made her shiver imperceptibly to others, the shiver was so violent that it shook her all the way to the bone. As the odd sensation started to subside she gasped and choke involuntarily which was met by a concerned query from Saph.

"I'm fine" she replied firmly but a little shakily, as she wondered what was going on with her she heard a sudden noise, it was loud and intrusive on one's hearing.

Nightowl was glad when the squad started moving forward again.  The sight of that corpse had been completely garish.  He had seen a lot of mutilated corpses and violent scenes in his past but nothing as bad as that.  Just as he started forward, he stopped.  His senses on high alert, this place just seeped a sense of foreboding and he glanced around.  There, yes, there was definitely a sound.  He moved back into the room containing the corpse.

“Hey, aren’t you coming” called out Jamasis.

Nightowl glanced around the room, looking at the corpse and the surrounding environment.  Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t find anything out of place.  Whatever had caused the noise had obviously stopped, or maybe he was imagining things.  It didn’t surprise him if he was imagining things, a place like this could do things to yourself.

“Yeah right with you” called out Nightowl.

He glanced back around the room before leaving the room behind him he rushed up to Jamasis and together they made their way after the squad.

Back in the room the corpse shuddered, its decayed fingers scraping at the side of the cot.  It’s head rolled to the side as it gazed at the retreating squad members.  It opened its mouth to let out a shriek but nothing came out.

I’ll be glad when this mission is over thought Nightowl as he brought up the rear of the squad.  Both of his blaster pistols were in his hands as he gazed around the dark corridors of the ship.  Even the ship itself seemed to be in a state of decomposition which he knew was impossible.  A shiver ran down his spine as a tiny voice crept into his head.  He dismissed it instantly wondering why it was there, yet it persisted.

Kill them, kill them all…

"You're  sure?" Saphira asked again. Making sure Lucky was alright. Theother womenn shook her head as they kept walking forward. Nowhere to go but straight down the hall. Curving once to the right as the lights flickered again. One, making a pop/clicking sound as their boots tapped almost to the beating of their hearts.

"I think I would rather-." Lucky started to say when Madman jumped up from behind the two and  grabbed their shoulders.

"BOO!" He growled. Both women jumped as Saph swung and kicked her leg out to knock him flat onto his behind. The dull thud was followed by a few curses as both women started yelling at him.

"What the heck? This isn't time for fun and games." Lucky snapped. Madman shook his head and got up. Much to the couple snickers that seemed to had broken the cold silence.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood." Madman grumbled.

"Yea, well, we don't need it lightened like that." Saphira snapped. her eyes narrowed to cold slits as she spun on her right foot and started to walk forward again, It was bad enough that her nerves were on edge in this place. She didn't need a team mate to fry them. Or set off a trigger happy trooper. The place set her own nerves on high alert. Something was definatly wrong here. her Lek'ku flickered  over her shoulder. Much like a cats tail as she took slow deep breaths...

The scent of blood permeated the smoggy air as the technician collapsed to the ground, a dark pool spreading about his form as he let his final breath rattle from his lungs. The remaining troopers were stunned, frozen into place by the abrupt shift of behavior from one of their own.  Mai’s voice seemed to startle them out of their reverie,

“Who else removed their helmet?”

“What?” Kerr looked up from the technician towards Mai, immediately on the defensive, “Why?”

“Just tell me.” Mai snarled at her, “Who else in your squad removed their helmets?”

“I…don’t remember,” Kerr stammered back at her, “There was a lot going on.”

Mai strode forwards until she was standing right before the Wrangler SL and jabbed a finger violently into her chestplate, “This isn’t a game Sergeant. I don’t want anyone else flying off the handle!”

“You think it’s something in the air?” Zippy spoke up for the first time, “That strange matter?”

“That’s ridiculous.” Wrangler’s ASL answered scornfully, “He just couldn’t handle the pressure.”

“And you can?” Jamasis shot back at the visibly shaking trooper, “For the record: A rear guard is generally supposed to stay in sight of the squad they’re covering.”

“Screw you!” The ASL took a menacing step towards the Corporal, “I don’t need a lecture from some punk ass kid!”

“Quiet!” Mai’s voice cut through the conversation like a whip-crack. She tilted her head to the side, and looked down the corridor to her left, “I heard something.”

“All I can hear is the signal,” Nightowl whispered, a strange quality to his tone, “Always…always the signal.”

Mai opened her mouth to query the strange comment only to freeze as the noise echoed down the corridor again, louder now. A dull scrap of metal against metal, as though someone was dragging something slowly along the breadth of the floor.  She took a tentative step and flicked her ears forward beneath her helmet in an attempt to discern the direction of the echo.

“We’ll check it out.” Kerr whispered to Mai, seemingly keen to prove Jamasis wrong by taking action, “On me Wrangler.”

“No.” Mai snatched at Kerr’s armored form as she swept past and missed, “Stay together!”

But Kerr and half of her squad had already moved up the corridor, the impenetrable darkness swallowing their gleaming forms as they moved bare meters from their position. Mai swore allowed, throwing out an arm to stop a trio of Wrangler stragglers, “Stop. That’s an order.”

The soldiers seemed happy to comply, moving back within the ranks of Wraith. Mai considered them momentarily, torn between holding their ground or following the others. The HUD on her helmet was flashing madly…alternating between a clear screen and a manic fuzziness that seemed to be getting increasingly worse by the minute. It seemed that even their armor was susceptible to the haunting signal that continued to plague the airways.

“Right.” Mai finally addressed the remnants of her squad, “Move in pairs. Shoulder to shoulder. No less than a meter between yourself and the soldier in front of you.”

No-one questioned her, moving swiftly into the formation she had specified. Mai took her place at the head of the column and started after Wrangler, Khalldryn stepping up to her right shoulder. She was taking a tactical risk by keeping the squad so close together. It would take only a single grenade or burst of automatic fire to cut them all down but the thought of losing another squad member was something she just couldn’t stomach. The slow breakdown of their initial boarding party was more than coincidence.  Someone…or something… was purposely drawing soldiers away as they moved closer to their target.

“Something up ahead.” Khalldryn murmured just as Mai perceived the same shadow. Both troopers swung their rifles about in a fluid moment, only relaxing as Kerr and her squad became visible in the beam of their mounted lights.

“There’s blood here!” Kerr called to them, pointing at the floor in front of her.

Mai felt a shiver of trepidation travel up the length of her spine, “Keep your voice…”

The groan of gears drowned out the rest of her words, the only warning she had before a heavy blast door swept down from the roof of the corridor in front of Wraith and slammed into place before Kerr and her squad. Mai broke formation and ran at the door, the feeling of trepidation doubling as she released that no access panel was visible on their side.

“Kerr!” Mai slammed one armored fist against the unyielding metal, “Can you hear me?”

Silence was her only reply.

“There must be a way around.” Jegora started at her back, “We’ll double back.”

Mai slammed her fist against the metal again, and then jolted as a scream sounded directly before her. She leapt back, swinging the barrel of her rifle towards the door as the scream sounded again, tearing through the silence with ear piercing clarity.

“Kerr!” One of the Wrangler soldiers charged at the door, his rifle clattering to the ground as he tried to force his fingers in-between the groove of the door and the corridor wall, “Help me!”

Mai stood rooted to the spot as the single scream turned into many, the mixed cries of men and women coming together in an eerie chorus of agony. The blood curdling noise grew louder and louder, broken only by the vibration of the strange signal which seemed to strengthen in response to the cries until the very floor shook beneath their feet.

“Ahhhh!” The Wrangler trooper gave up on his hapless task and dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at his head “Make it stop! Make it stop!”

And as suddenly as it started….the screaming stopped, replaced by complete and utter silence.

With little aplomb the door unlocked with a gentle click and slowly rolled back up into position to reveal the now empty corridor beyond. Wrangler was no-where to be seen.

No bodies. No blood. Nothing to suggest that they had even been there in the first place.

Mai pulled a mouthful of moist air into her aching lungs, unaware that she had ceased breathing.  The rest of Wraith watched as she sidled up and beneath the door, tilting her head upwards in the expectation that it would abruptly slam down on top of her. But the mechanism stayed securely locked in place and allowed her to pass.

“Back in formation.” Mai managed, her barely controlled anger at the helplessness of their situation keeping all other emotion in check, “The bridge should be up ahead.”

OOC:

Don't worry Raz, it wasn't that confusing. We're just lazy.

Well, I'm just lazy. It may have been confusing for everyone else.

Jegora Fal knew something was wrong. He had known something was wrong from the very first instant he had stepped foot on the cruiser, his instincts fairly screaming at him to get the hell off the ancient ship and back to the relative safety of the Vast Empire vessel. It had started as a tingle at the base of his spine, eventually moving to his neck and causing his hair to stand on end. Jegora had long ago learned to recognize and trust his instincts without reservation, but he had also learned to suppress the reflexive urges in the same way he had learned to suppress his emotions. As they moved deeper into the bowels of the ship, however, he found that the urge to flee only grew stronger and stronger. 

Discipline was Jegora’s mantra. He possessed ironclad self-control, self-control that very little could disrupt, let alone destroy completely. Jegora knew this, relied on it; it provided him stability in a profession and world where nothing was ever truly certain. So if he were to be honest himself, he would have to admit that the mere fact he was having such difficulty controlling his fear was more disconcerting than the strange events taking place around him.

Something was wrong on the Mandalorian ship. Jegora’s instincts had clued him into that fact almost from the very beginning, and recent events onboard the cruiser and only proven his suspicions correct. Whatever had happened to the ship had left its major systems intact, but apparently had killed off the entire crew. It wasn’t natural, it wasn’t right. And on top of those mysteries, the very air onboard the cruiser felt wrong. It was almost as if it was thick, like a dense fog, difficult to move through. It was oppressive, and it made the corridors and halls seem even smaller than usual. Never one prone to claustrophobia, Jegora had to admit that the tight confines of the cruiser’s interior were making more and more nervous. The walls seemed to bow inwards, pressing down on him, constricting, restricting, trapping…

It wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. By the time the squads finally reached the bridge of the cruiser, Jegora was starting to have some very uncomfortable thoughts. Even though he was an experienced operator, he knew there was always the chance that each and every mission he undertook would be his last. Usually he chose not to dwell on that particularly morbid subject, but as he watched the technicians go to work around the bridge he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this was the mission on which he would finally ‘buy the farm’. It was bound to happen sooner or later, and Jegora had been lucky so far. Lady Luck was a fickle mistress however, and maybe his luck was finally about to run out. Maybe he was about to die…

He was still lost in melancholy when all at once his instincts went berserk. A sudden influx of cold washed over his entire body, causing him to physically jerk around in the direction of the lifts. Seconds later the call came out over the comm. system to assume defensive positions. Judging from the sharp reactions of the others around him, Jegora noted that they must have been lost in similar dark thoughts.

It’s this ship, Jegora thought to himself. There is more going on here than meets the eye.

Jegora took up one of the front-line positions behind a command console, facing the lift. Adrenaline flooded his veins in anticipation of a battle, clearing the doubt from his system. This was what he lived for. For some, soldiering was a profession. For Jegora, it was a calling, and he knew it. He thrived on the rush of combat, excelled under the stress of life-or-death situations. Some people might call him crazy, but Jegora considered himself as sane as anyone else. He simply had a higher tolerance for what most people considered ‘dangerous situations’, and the training and willingness to operate in such conditions.

For the moment Jegora was wielding the new utility blaster gun that came as part of the new SCOPE equipment. It was a small weapon, perfect for close quarters work and tight confines, such as the ship Jegora now found himself on. He checked the weapon, ensuring that it still had plenty of juice, and waited. Silence descended throughout the bridge, a heavy blanket that seemed to settle almost gently on the shoulders of the soldiers scattered throughout the room. Jegora knew that silence well. It was the silence of men who knew they were about die.

Jegora focused on keeping his breathing even, steady. Next to him a trooper he didn’t know was fidgeting nervously. Jegora just shook his head, remembering back to when he had first been a new recruit. Then the pre-battle nerves had upset him, made him extremely uncomfortable. Now they were an old friend, a welcome sign that he was, in fact, alive. Jegora wasn’t really that old, being only twenty nine standard years of age, but sometimes he felt downright ancient. Most of the troopers he worked with anymore were so young, and Jegora had simply experienced so much. It was a disparity he had learned to cope with in recent months, but every now and then it still caught him by surprise. Pushing those distracting thoughts away, Jegora was still concentrating on his breathing when another flash of cold washed over his body, once again causing all his hair to stand on end. Immediately Jegora raised his blaster, training the weapons glowing tritium sights on the chokepoint between the main bridge and the lifts. If something was about to come out of the turbolifts, which was what all of Jegora’s formidable instincts were screaming at him, then the enemy would have to funnel through the corridor, easy prey for the trained stormtroopers and their advanced blaster weaponry.

That was the plan, anyway, but the truth was that no one knew what was going to come out of that dark corridor. Jegora and all the other soldiers on the bridge assumed it was something they would be able to shoot and kill, something recognizable, but judging from what the squads had encountered so far on this hellhole of a ship anything was possible. And in the deep silence that stretched across the bridge, Jegora could hear the turbolifts slide open, could hear something shuffle out. Lots of something. There were footsteps to be sure, and judging from the sound of things there were many of them. Some of the footfalls were heavier than the others, reverberating through the bridge with an almost metallic clanging. Instantly images of assault droids leapt to mind, and as Jegora flexed his grip on the blaster in his hands he had to remember to keep his breathing slow and even. The trooper next to him wasn’t so composed, but he hadn’t panicked yet either, something Jegora was profoundly thankful for. On top of everything else, he really couldn’t afford to babysit some green recruit who had decided to pick that particular moment to go bat-shit insane.

The sounds issuing from the dark corridor grew louder and louder. Jegora’s heads-up display was revealing low-level heat signatures, but the readings were so weak that there was no way to tell how many tangos were on the other side of the nearly impenetrable darkness. And then, seemingly all at once, the noises stopped and silence once again settled onto the bridge.

The tension in the room was very nearly palpable. All around him soldiers tensed and relaxed, readjusted their grip on their weapons, and Jegora couldn’t blame them. Although he would never show it now that he was actually in a combat situation, he was...anxious. For once he had no idea what was about to happen, and that bothered him above and beyond anything that had happened so far. It was not very often that Jegora felt powerless, but at that instant there was nothing he could do but wait.

He didn’t have to wait long. It began as a low moaning the echoed throughout the cavernous bridge. The moan slowly gained intensity until it turned into a howl, and then a scream. The sound sent a chill down Jegora’s spine, and judging by the reactions of the others he wasn’t the only one.

“Hold!” the sergeants shouted over the comm. link almost in unison. Jegora noted with satisfaction that instantly the greener troopers straightened and refocused. Whatever was waiting for them in the black, they still feared their sergeants more than some mysterious threat they couldn’t identify. It was a smart choice. Probably.

The screaming grew louder and louder. Eventually it became so loud that Jegora’s helmet filters kicked in, keeping the piercing noise at bearable levels. It was disconcerting, but Jegora recognized the noise for what it was: an unsuccessful attempt by whatever enemy the Vast Empire soldiers now faced to gain a tactical advantage. Luckily for the troopers on the bridge, their helmets were equipped with audio scrubbers. A normal human would probably be very nearly incapacitated by the high intensity audio stimulation; the stormtroopers and marines on the bridge were just pissed off.

Eventually, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jegora got his first glimpse of his enemy. They flowed out of the dark corridor almost as one, pale imitations of life that looked unnatural even from a distance. Most of the hostiles were dressed in simple crew garb. A few were larger and more heavily armored: commandos of some sort, if Jegora was any judge of fighting men. The skin of all the…beings…was almost pure white, chalky, and was stretched too tight across their faces, revealing all the sharp angles of cheek and jawbones, and even teeth. Their eyes were sunken and gaunt, their hair long and straight and noticeably lackluster. In short, they looked like men months dead and adequately preserved—but yet they moved as limberly as any living thing Jegora had yet to encounter. To make matters worse, some of the things were equipped with make-shift cybernetic parts. An arm here, a leg there, a metal plate covering what should have been a full head of hair, the alterations and ‘repairs’ were sloppy and crude, but effective.

Jegora was ashamed to admit that he could only watch the slow advance, unable to even pull the trigger on his blaster. No one else fired either. Unopposed, the creatures moved slowly onward. Some moved awkwardly, but from what Jegora could tell that was only because injuries or mechanical additions inhibited them from a full range of motion. Most of the creatures moved quite fluidly, gracefully even. They looked, for all intents and purposes, alive, even though with once glance Jegora knew that was not the case.

Eventually the shocked silence in the room was broken. “Creator preserve us,” someone whispered over the open comm circuit, and immediately he was shouted into submission by no less than four sergeants, including both squad leaders. The shouting seemed to shake everyone, including Jegora, out of their reverie, because immediately the room erupted in the harsh sounds of rapid blaster fire.

The first ranks of the creatures were mowed down almost instantly. Still, more came up to replace them. Those too were shot repeatedly, but still yet more came. They started moving faster too, as if rushing the Vast Empire lines. Some of the creatures who Jegora had thought dead even started to rise, or at least crawl. Apparently, non-fatal wounds wouldn’t even slow the abominations down, and Jegora soon started going straight for head shots. It was more difficult to hit anything, especially when the creatures began to pick up speed, but anything he did manage to hit didn’t get up again.

After several minutes of mindless firing, bodies were beginning to stack up in the corridor leading to the lifts. So far only a very few of the creatures had managed to make it into the bridge proper, most of those commandos. Eventually Jegora’s ZZ blaster ran out of juice, and he slung it over his shoulder and took up the standard E-45. It was more awkward to wield in such tight quarters, but Jegora had to think that its stopping power would definitely come in handy in this situation. Glancing around, Jegora found others reloading or switching weapons. The pile of corpses in the entryway had nearly reached the ceiling, completely blocking the corridor. For the moment there was a lull in the battle, but from the screams issuing from the other side of the make-shift barrier Jegora had to believe that the momentary reprieve wouldn’t last long.

Once again, he was right. There was an instance of deep silence, as if everything on the bridge was taking a collective breath, and then the pile of bodies literally exploded outwards.

It was chaos after that. Commandos poured onto the bridge, heavily armored and obviously fearless. The troopers did their best to mow them down, but a few still managed to reach the forward positions. Once they closed in on Vast Empire soldiers, the commandos were relatively safe from blaster fire, for no soldier was going to willingly fire his weapon anywhere near a comrade. For those soldiers and their pseudo-commando enemies, the battle disintegrated into a brutal melee for survival.

Jegora soon found himself in one such melee. He was busy taking potshots at the oncoming tangos, and had failed to anticipate the commando that had managed to flank his position. The creature caught hold of the trooper Jegora had been sharing his cover with almost before Jegora could even react, snapping the poor man’s neck and letting loose a wild scream in the process. Jegora spun to face the new threat, dropping his E-45 and drawing his combat knife almost in one smooth motion. He didn’t attack right away, though, opting for caution in this particular situation. Whatever these creatures were, they were not natural, and Jegora had no idea what to expect from such a foe. He decided to let the enemy construct make the first move, a dangerous decision, even it if was necessary. Once again, however, Jegora didn’t have to wait long. Whatever traits the enemy commandos might have exhibited, patience wasn’t one of them.

The commando swung wildly, a blow that Jegora managed to catch on his forearm. In hindsight that might have been a mistake, for the sheer force behind the blow sent Jegora staggering. An impressive feat, considering Jegora was six and a half feet tall and weighed in at over two hundred and forty pounds. Knocked off balance, Jegora was momentarily stunned, but it didn’t take him long to recover. He exploded into motion, stepping inside the creatures reach. The construct was strong, and moderately fast, but it was unoriginal. Jegora had correctly deduced that it would rely on huge, sweeping blows to overpower an opponent. By stepping inside the creature’s reach he had effectively removed that advantage, reducing the fight to a test of speed and endurance—a test that Jegora easily won.

The creature-commando was heavily armored, and all Jegora had was a standard melee knife. Still, there were plenty of weak points in the creature’s armor that were easily identifiable, weak spots that Jegora quickly took advantage of. Ducking another wild sweep, Jegora countered by plunging his knife into the creature’s exposed side, utilizing the gap in the armor plates directly underneath the arm. As Jegora yanked the serrated knife out of the creature’s flesh, the commando howled in rage and what Jegora could only assume was pain, although he couldn’t help but note that there was no blood on his knife. Still, the vast amount of bodies scattered around the bridge proved that the creatures could be killed, and Jegora wasn’t about to give up that easily.

Jegora ducked another wild swing and blocked a clumsy attempt at a jab in quick succession. Using all his considerable strength, he countered by knocking the construct’s arms out wide using both his forearms. Then he brought his right hand around and hit the creature as hard as he could on the forehead, snapping its head back. Continuing through the motion, Jegora brought his left hand up and buried his knife to the hilt under the commando’s exposed chin. The six inch blade disappeared completely into the creature’s head, causing it to spasm once before falling limp. Yanking the blade out with a snarl, Jegora let the creature fall to the floor.

Opening a link to Mai, Jegora didn’t waste time mincing words. “They’re dangerous,” he reported, the iron hard tone of his voice relaying just how incredibly dangerous he thought constructs really were. “If we stay here, we’re all going to die. Eventually we’ll be overwhelmed, and we’ll be slaughtered. Or worse.”

One of the other sergeants must have been listening. “They have no weapons, and they have to funnel through that choke point,” the man broke in, his voice almost condescending. “We can hold them here indefinitely, until they exhaust themselves, then reunite with the others.”
There was a cold pause. “You’re assuming the others survived,” Mai said quietly. Jegora nodded to himself, agreeing with his new squad leader’s line of reasoning.

“They don’t even have any weapons!” the sergeant repeated desperately.

Jegora shook his head. “They don’t bleed. They don’t feel. They don’t fear. They will keep coming until we are all dead. How many of them do you think there are? They’re dressed as crewman; how many men do you think it took to crew this ship? How many soldiers did this cruiser carry?”

There as a pause, the cold reality of their situation obviously settling in on the other sergeant even as the battle raged around them. It was Mai who eventually broke the silence. “We need to get off this bridge,” the Wraith squad leader stated, “and quickly.”

Zippy was starting to get a little bit on edge. The fact that they are being chased by unknown beings, and the fact that they have no adequate cover, it's starting to get pretty interesting. Zippy quickly followed is SL out of the dark room as the creatures started breaking through.

"This is definitely something I didn't sign up for!" Zippy screamed running from the unlocked door

"Just shut your trap and keep moving! Mai quickly snapped back. What did you think you were signing up for, a summer vacation?"

Zippy realized she was right. It was time to shine and start getting his mind back into the habit of battle. Zippy quickly whipped out his standard E-11 blaster and turned while running and shot some of the ships interior off the wall. Noticing that the creatures weren't slowed down even slightly, he realized this was a failed attempt.

"Well that wasn't what I expecting, Zippy said to himself. I'm thinking that I need a different strategy to slow these beings down."

As the squad turned down yet another corridor, the ship was making horrific noises. He wasn't sure if it was the ship itself or if it was the foul sounding beasts behind him.

"Alright, we need to find some decent cover, if not a place to hide. We can't keep this running around forever, and I definitely think we can all agree to that end," Jegora yelled over the horrific noise. I don't feel like dyeing on this hunk of metal.

The squad began to practically scour the hallways for decent place to take cover. Zippy noticed down one of the corridors a room that stated "Emergency room" above the door.

"Over here! Zippy yelled to the running squad. There's a safe room over here! We can take cover in here for the time being and dodge these creatures till we form a plan of attack!"

The squad sprinted toward the safe room and slammed the emergency lock on the control panel.

"Well this is just great. We are now practically cornered by these "things" and there isn't any where on this derelict ship to hide on. Secondly, there isn't fighting these creatures head on, cause there is simply to many of them," Zippy spoke in the secluded crew safe room.

"So, how exactly do we plan to get out of here and get away from these beings?" Mai spoke to the exhausted squad.

"Well, there is a vent in the corner behind Zippy that we can utilize to get out of this room, but fighting off and eluding the beings is beyond me," Jegora said with the sweat now pouring off of his face.

"Alright team, Zippy broke the sudden silence. It's time to form some sort of plan to save our ass's on this ship. Any suggestions?"

Zippy thought in his mind of every possible solution he could think of. The other member seemed to be doing the same thing Send out a distress signal, sabotage the ship some how, blow up the reactor, anything and everything. His demolition skills could come in handy right now, but without an escape route, much good that would do. He would have to find some better source of explosives for a job like that, and there was no way he could do that with the creatures running about

There was suddenly a loud screeching sound on the other side of the safe rooms door. The squads hearts started beating faster and faster as the noise's kept getting louder and louder. Zippy was figuring that the best option now would be to probably to start leaving this no longer safe, safe room.

"Alright squad, we're going to have to keep moving! Get that vent open and start moving, now!" Mai screamed at her troops, practically throwing them through the vent.

Zippy was the first to go though, and he quickly crawled as fast as he could so the rest of his troopers could get out along with him. He followed the long twisting vent shaft for as far as he could until he came to end of the awkward looking vent.

Jegora was the last one to go through, but managed to get in and close the vent before the creatures broke down the door. The noise was so unbareable, Zippy felt bad for any one who didn't have specialized helmets, just for this type of situation.

"I'm at the end of the shaft, Zippy whispered to his SL, who was right behind him. what do I do now?"

"Open the vent, but do it quietly. The last thing we need to do is attract more attention to ourselves."

Zippy opened the vent and exited the shaft. Once out, he quickly turned around and helped his troops out of the ventilation shaft. He didn't know what to think. All he knew was that his instincts to kill precisely, and move swiftly and queitly, was back.

Red looked around the bridge of the Magellan after hearing the message that one of the techs found Red wasn’t feeling to good about the whole situation on the ship so far, and the message just made it worse. After seeing the body of the crewman completely intact after all this time Red was seriously thinking that they should not be on this ship.

“Well this is an awesome first mission for me out of the Academy.” Red said low enough so that the comm’s would not pick it up.

“The lifts, they're working!” Red heard someone say after that he looked at where the lifts where, and noticed that they were moving up to the bridge.

Well things are about to get real interesting.

Red pulled out his E-11 and looked at the lifts and noticed the lights go out.

“Defensive positions!” After Red heard that he tried to take cover behind one of the command consoles, he noticed that he was behind the front line so he waited, after the lifts stopped heard a rustling noise and looked at where he thought the lifts where. That’s when the two squads started to fire on whatever it was that was making its way on to the bridge. Red looked and noticed that every time he hit one of those things they got back up only after they took a shot to the head did they stay down. Red looked at his remaining ammo Okay I have half a charge left. Looking down cost him some time, because he wasn’t firing on the enemy.

Red noticed that after a while the bodies started to pile up and make a coke hold so that only a couple could get though, but by the time that happened the things where already breaking the front rank, and kept on moving to the next rank so Red took his weapon and bashed one of the things in the head and once it fell to the ground he bashed it again until it stopped moving. Red looked back up and noticed that Wraith was starting to move towards the lifts.

Red said into the Squad Channel, “Are we just gonna stay here or what?”

Red heard Luckystar say “Well I think that we need to cover Wraith and then get to the engines so that we could get out of here.”

After Wraith left Red started to move to the lifts and noticed that most of the things where dead or at least looked dead, he walked over one of the bodies and looked down to make sure that it didn’t get up, after he made it to the lift he waved over to his Squad. After they got in the lift Red pushed one of the buttons on the command pad and the lift started to move wither it was up or down Red didn’t know all he knew was that they were leaving the bridge and the mess behind.

Khalldryn had been a poor excuse for a soldier throughout this mission so far and he knew it. In the confined spaces he had been clumsy and ineffective. Being forced to sign up by his clan for an act of “cowardice” he had never expected to be put through circumstances such as these, and the most galling aspect was that his people would never accept an account of these events to count towards regaining his position back on the homeworld. Not that he believed they paid attention to anything he sent, the elders were just waiting for the day when the correspondence stopped and they could claim their member had died honourably in the field of war.

Khalldryn was first to the door, his great strides taking him ahead of the squad. Some fired tentative shots at the window; the blasts burning holes in the reinforced material but failing to penetrate or shatter it. 

The Barabel burst through the door as one of the former crew members managed to overwhelm his deputy squad leader. In a headlong charge the mandalorian accepted a wicked slash from Marka sword in exchange for achieving a grapple. Marka was dragged to the ground and the crew swarmed around him, he took a brutal kick to the head before Khalldryn reached him.

The mandalorians were exceedingly strong, but Khalldryn retained, at the least, a significant weight and stability advantage. In a wild swing he with the butt of his rifle he knocked the nearest crewman to the ground, a burst of blaster fire from Mai ending its existence. He was happy with his new squad leader. Despite the fact that she was even more hairy than the humans (at least covered up most of the time in armor) she was blunt and to the point.

Dropping the rifle he grabbed one of the men pinning Marka down and using his tail for balance launched him away. As that disengaged mandalorian suffered the same fate as the first, two of their opponents turned on Khalldryn before he could prise them from Marka himself.  The pressure relieved, Marka managed to get a footing and rolled from underneath his remaining attackers; getting his blade between himself and the crewmen once more.

Khalldryn dropped his weight and accepted the impact of the first crewman. Using his tail to stabilize himself he held the first at bay. Ordered to keep his armor in tact Khalldryn couldn't use his main weapons; teeth and claws. The elbow was an underused weapon, with the crewman reaching for his neck Khalldryn slammed his elbow into its temple with all his strength. There was a crack as the blow connected and the reanimated mandalorian staggered to one side. With a tail swipe Khalldryn cleared some room around him. His gigantic frame moved forwards into the melee, aiming to hold the mandalorians back so the rest of the squad could finish the job with blasters.

Khalldryn hadn't been around humans very long, but one of the gestures he had picked up was to tilt his head inquisitively. He did this now, realising the incredulous Barabel hiss would probably have been lost on his squad a moment earlier.



"Get in!" Mai shouted down at him when he contonued to stay on the ground. Ignoring the offered hand Khalldryn hoisted his considerable bulk up into the shaft.  "Engineering should be that way," she instructed calmly. Khalldryn couldn't help but be slightly impressed by how well the squad leader was dealing with the situation. Still a novice to even regular warfare, their circumstances were beginning to take their toll on the Barabel; he was mentally and physically drained and he was now struggling just to Keep his mind focussed on the task of pushing his way forwards through the vent.



Lukas brought up the rear behind them, Khalldyn lacking the agility to manaevre backwards through the space. This was the most peaceful time they had experienced since the first few minutes of being on board. Nothing broke the silence other than the odd signal or command, usually a confirmation of the route ahead being clear. Khalldryn found the silence oppresive and was glad of the odd voice punctuation the silence.



"Alright Wraith. Lets get down and look around. We do this the Wraith way now; quickly and quietly we fight on our own terms." Khalldryn couldn't see what was going on from his position at first, but as he turned the corner he observed the squad leaders at an opening. Marka on all fours looking down the sights of his rifle, Mai crouched purposefully.



With a hand signal the squad were moving, bursting into another bland corridor beneath them. There were several motionless corpses strewn around, but they wasted no time in putting blaster bolts in their skulls. Ahead of them was a clearly marked entrance to the engineering section. The door refused to open so the squad used one of the remaining charges to blow the locking mechanism, freeing the door from its magnetic clasps.



They hurried forwards into a wide chamber, consoles and technical charts lining the walls. THe area was secured and a perimeter established in moments.



"Anyone know how to disengage the engines when none of these consoles are active?" asked Jegora.



Khalldryn studied some of the plans along one wall. Technology wasn't his thing but he watched as lukas traced a line from their position near the reactor core to the engines. "We can cut off the main power flow" he announced. "Did you know they have a serious nuclear armament stored on board?"

Before anyone could respond there was a noise behind them. Panels on the wall behind them slid up, revealing a view screen to the reactor chamber below. The core was completely obscured by something envoloping it. Something huge.



"What the hell is that?" Khalldryn asked. Feeling like they were being osbeved too. There was a pause before the reply



"We're gonna need bigger charges!"