Very Much Alone [Star Crew]

[Lars Engström]

[[As I mentioned in the ship chat, this is done with a certain amount of creative liberty. If you want changes, let me know.]]

[March 3rd, 2523. The Black, En Route to Whitefall. 0230 Local Ship Time]

Having finished his talk with Jeff, Lars had remained behind on the bridge, to make sure everything was ship shape. The hour, and downright exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep with his head on the console. Lars' sleep was short lived, however, for after only a few minutes, a loud beeping alarm began to sound, accompanied by a few flashing lights. The captain jerked awake, and fought with his cloudy brain, trying to discern the issue.

He caught a brief glimpse of the ship's layout on the data screen, before the entire ship was rocked by an explosion. Immediately, a dozen alarms began to sound and lights lit up everywhere. Lars was now awake, and he saw that the area near the engine was flashing red on the screen. He rose, his mind surprisingly clear, and hurtled off towards the source of the explosion. As he ran, he heard the alarms throughout the ship sounding.

A brief panic swept him as he wondered if the hull had been breached, but the fact that he wasn't being sucked out into space reassured him. He vaulted the last few steps down into the cargo bay, and then he was stopped dead by the sight that which met his eyes. The engine room was engulfed in flames, and they were rapidly getting more intense. The heat washed over him, and he caught a glimpse of color. "Jordan!" he shouted, and plunged into the room.

He stepped in, and felt the heat attack him, his eyes burned from the smoke, and he felt the heat tear at his bare feet. He found two bodies on the floor, Jordan and Dru lay, unmoving amidst the flames. Lars grabbed Jordan under her arms and dragged her out of the inferno, before he ran back in to get Dru. As he pulled her clear, a second explosion shot flame and hot metal out, catching Lars across the side, and throwing him to the ground.

The air began to rush in to the engine room, pulling everything with it as the vacuum of space sucked at the ship through the breach in the hull. Lars threw himself to the side of the door, and fought through the burns and cuts to close it. In what seemed like an hour, he succeeded, sealing the engine room off from the rest of the ship. A glance through the porthole showed the fire to be extinguished, and the room a wreck.

He slid down the wall, and groaned as the injuries screamed at him. He looked at his hand, and saw it was badly burned, but the sight of the two others drew his attention.

He dragged himself over to them, and put his less burnt hand against each of their necks in turn, checking for a pulse. They were both still alive, at least for now, and Lars said a quick prayer of thanks. He heard voices, people stirring elsewhere, and he knew he needed to find the doctor. Reaching out he grabbed the rail, and pulled himself to his feet, stumbling through a cloud of pain and fear as he made his way up the stairs. Rational thought was lost, his only motivation was to find Lance.

As he reached the top of the stairs, his head began to swim, and he felt as though he were breathing through a pillow. The smoke was catching up to him. And he slammed into the wall, falling to the floor with a crash, as head spun faster and faster. Blurry shapes moved around, and he felt himself drifting into unconsciousness.

[Lance Howe]

Lance was asleep in his quarters and having a very pleasant dream actually. It was something about receiving an honorary degree from a prestigious medical university on Ariel while surrounded by beautiful women and then Seamus, the stowaway, was forced at gunpoint to clean up after the ticker tape parade celebrating Lance's miraculous cure for cancer. Needless to say he was not happy with the ruckus that soon began in the ship. The explosion however was enough to jolt the man out of bed and into action.

Half-dressed and half-awake, the doctor stumbled into the hallway and made his way to the bridge to try and find some answers. No one was to be found there, having just missed the captain as he ran aft. Unfamiliar with the controls Lance couldn't easily figure out the issue but the second explosion and the appearance of a smoke trail were enough to lead him to the scene.

Lance rushed off the bridge and toward the engine room in the hopes of saving the ship. He had no idea what he was going to find there other then, well, fire. He had no experience or training with shipboard emergencies and for a brief moment a panicked feeling of helplessness swept his mind before being quickly pushed away. He could figure it out and the others would probably be there to help as well. No worries, right?

Before reaching the "disaster scene", Lance found Lars in the hallway. He didn't look well at all. Substantial burns and what looked like fragmentation from one of the blasts were strewn about his body. The more pressing concern, and what appeared to have dropped the captain, was the smoke inhalation from the black clouds that were quickly spreading across the ship. He was breathing but it was weak. Lance contemplated pulling the man back down the stairs to a "lower" elevation where theoretically there should be less smoke but decided instead to pull him off the hallway to try and get him out of it completely.

Luckily the captain had fallen outside the infirmary so that was where he'd be placed. Lance left him there on the floor in a sad state and then sealed the door as he departed in the hopes of reducing the smoke. Lars needed attention but there was no telling what shape others might be in or even the state of the Bjorn Star. Treating one man would be for naught if the ship fell apart... or whatever ships do.

The doctor reached the engine room door and found both Dru and Jordan worse off than Lars. The fire seemed to have been contained and vented through the now breached engine room but that still left the issue of the smoke in the rest of the ship. It was liable to claim the rest of them if something wasn't done about it.

"Jeff!" Lance yelled out. With those three down then Weston was the best hope to lead the ship and also the most capable of saving it. Knowing him, he'd probably show up any second in that fully pressurized suit ready to deal with smoke and zero atmosphere.

[Jeff Weston]

After the enlighting conversation with the cap Jeff had the need again for another of his mid-night space walks. They have become more frequent as of late since sleep, restful sleep, became as alusive as gnat in a blacked out room.
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So when the ship shuddered and the sound of an explosion ripped through it Jeff was already for what ever it was. Backing down the external hatch he made his way toward the bridge. Getting no farther than the common room he heard Lance howl his name through the ship's coms. Making for Lance's position he was not ready for what he was about to see.
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Tossing a rebreather to Lance he pulled two more which was attached to his system.
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'What happened, where's the Cap?'
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Fearing the worst he attached the breathers on Jordan and Dru. The smoke was everywhere tho here was not as bad as near to where he had been. Using the sensors in his gaunlets he checked their heart rate and blood pressure.
'Grab Jordan, I'll take Dru. I need your finest work here. Once we have them in the med-lab, I'll come back and get things going again.'
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Taking Dru under the arms he dragged her till he was sure the smoke and the heat was lower so as not to hurt Dru. Lifting her into his arms he made the way down to the med-lab only to be shocked to see the Cap badly injured.
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'So this is it then. Fine. Now way in this verse am I going to loose very one again.'
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Laying Dru down he waited for Lance to arrive before he left to secure the ship. Jeff stood straighter with a look upon his face that not been there for a very long time. A face stone cold and ready for the darkest choices.

[Lance Howe]

The doctor's prayers were answered as Jeff soon arrived decked out in all of his equipment, quite the godsend. The doctor gladly accepted the offered equipment and put it on as the other man surveyed the scene.

"Hell if I know. I found him on my way here, pulled him into the infirmary before going any further." Lance answered.

Jeff was rising to meet the challenge, exactly what was needed at a moment like this. "Aye." He replied to the instruction and picked up the smaller of the two women. He entered the infirmary a few steps behind Weston and replied, "Not a pretty sight. You just worry about saving the ship and I'll just worry about saving them, deal?"

[Lars Engström]

LArs snapped back to the present in a whirl of pain and pure terror, letting out a slight yelp as his spasm slammed his burned hand against a wall. He looked around, his eyes blurred to the point of tears, but before he could speak he began to cough uncontrollably. He fought the fit off, and then croaked at the other two conscious people in the room. "Weston" He choked, almost succumbing to the coughing fit again. "The hull, engine room, breached." His disjointed words brought on more coughing, but when it subsided he continued. "Not sure where, but we need it sealed before we can fix the engine." He took several deep breaths, his throat on fire.

He looked at the doctor, and then to Dru and Jordan. "I don't know whats wrong with them, they were still alive when i got them out." His voice trailed off and he winced at the overall pain he was experiencing. "We need Jordan." He said, emotionless. "If we can't fix the engine we are all humped, whether we like it or not." He rose, unsteadily to his feet. "We need to call for help." He made as iff to step forward, and his left leg buckled, sending him into the wall. He managed to slide, somewhat softly to the ground, before he swore again, and then looked around. He felt despair start to slowly creep over him, but set his jaw and shook the fear away. "Where the hell is everyone else?"

[Trace Kennet]

Trace came awake slowly, despite the noise and general sound of danger. The heavy sleeper that he was, was augmented by the overall laziness of his past few weeks. He hated the worry that everyone had about his condition, but he knew they were right. So he had obediently removed himself from his normal duties, and proceeded to retreat into his quarters, where he did the one thing he could: Sleep.

After he fought off the bleariness of recent awakening, he came back to the real world with a bump, the smell of smoke having caught his attention. "What the...?" He looked around, and then made his way to the door.

As soon as he opened it, he was caught full in the face by a cloud of smoke that threatened to overwhelm him. He crouched, instinctively, and made his way towards the bridge, hoping there would be some explanation. Upon reaching the med bay, however, he stopped and looked in, to find most of the crew. His eyes widened with shock and horror as he took in the state of things. the captain was a mess, and Dru and Jordan were all but dead. "What's going on?" He asked, hoping someone would answer.

[Jeff Weston]

Weston watched the cap come back to life for the breifest of moments. Now with a bit more knowledge he knew what had to be done, the outside first then the engine. Thankfully it was about that time Trace showed not waiting for Lar's orders Jeff spoke up......
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'Trance you'll come with me I need to know how gorram bad we're humbed. That we'll need an sos for damage control. I'm no Jordan. I can patch with best of them but I'm better with the apart thing than the together side of it all. Hull, power, fresh air, those are our priorities, got it. Doc's got this end covered we need to step it up for the rest if planet side on whitefall we want to see. So let's get to work here take this.'
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Jeff handed off a rebreather one that Dru had and tossed it to Trace. The air was better and the med-lab had their own air filters which Jordan and him had installed one night. Turning to leave Weston looked to Lars...
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'Don't worry we'll get her sailing again and you'll find that one you're looking for Cap. I promise. An Angel's promise is better than gold.'

[Lance Howe]

The captain sparked back to life soon after they had all arrived in the med lab. As usual he was pushing himself too hard and his wounds naturally fought back against him. He had some information to relay to Jeff which seemed useful. The information directed to the doctor was not. "I think nearly being roasted alive is what's wrong with them, captain." Lance replied to the injured man's assessment of the two women. Even in a moment like this his rough and mildly uncaring nature showed.

Trace arrived as a confused mess so he was basically in the same state that Lance had been in a moment ago. Luckily Jeff had an idea of what to do and how to do it so he was now in charge of the pilot. "Yes, yes, yes." The doctor said in an attempt to hurry up the chatter, no matter how meaningful it might be, and focus on saving the ship.

He quickly rummaged through a drawer and returned with a needle for Lars. "This will have to do for now." He said as he injected the fluid into the captain's arm. "You're not exactly at the top of the triage list. Just watch Dru's vitals while I take care of Jordan."

Without checking to see if the captain was reacting, Lance moved over to the mechanic. She was prioritized not just because of the severity of her injuries but because her role was so vital to their present situation. Jeff's repeated hints about who to focus on were not lost on the doctor. He replaced the temporary mask that Jeff had provided with the infirmary's respiration machine. He followed that up with a slew of injections for everything ranging from pain, to oxygen deprivation, to healing acceleration.

[Seamus Callahan]

Poor Seamus couldn't seem to catch a break. He had slept on the couch for the past few days, he'd been threatened at gunpoint, worked till he was tired in his very bones. Things had just started to get better it seemed. Just a little...now that they were well on their way to Whitefall there had been less work for him, the crew had begun to trust him better, and he was well on his way to upgrading from the couch. Yet fate, as it was prone, loved to use him as it's whipping boy.

The explosion shook the ship not when he was nicely asleep on his couch, oh no, it waited until he had gotten up to use the bathroom. He felt the floor shudder violently, and threw his arms out at each wall to stop himself from falling. There was a rush of heat that he could feel even inside the cramped bathroom. Seamus snarled to himself as he zipped his pants, "Can't even take a piss without a gorram crisis happening.'

He whirled around to try the door and found it hot to the touch and stuck fast. He could hear the crackling flames just beyond, and a thrill of fear ran up his spine. "Just my luck, entire ship's probably on fire and where am I?" He rammed his shoulder into the door, punctuating each of his words which a blow to the door. "STUCK. IN. A. GORRAM. BATHROOM." He alternated between kicking it angrily and uselessly and ramming his body against it.

He could hear whatever had fallen against the door grating against the floor with his pushes, and bit by bit he budged it open. It took a while, but the heavy piece of scrap gradually shiftted enough for him to slide his skinny body through. Everything outside in the narrow corridor was smoke and flame. Seamus sprinted away from the flames, pulling his shirt up over the lower half of his face to protect his mouth and nose. Running as fast as his lanky legs would carry him, he got away from the flames with only minor burns. He found a fire extinguisher concealed behind a wall panel, and immediately put down the blaze. It was pure chance that brought him outside the infirmary. He would have ran right past it if not for the voices speaking in loud panicked tones.

Seamus came running into the infirmary, coughing like a lifelong smoker. Soot was smeared across his face and arms, his curly mane of hair more than a little singed, his clothes blackened and burnt right through in some places. Fire extinguisher tucked under one arm. His eyes were wide with fear, his voice hoarse with smoke inhalation. "Some fireworks." He tended to cover fear with sarcasm, and anger came to him the same yet at the sight of Dru and Jordan he bedded down his irreverent humor.

"Oh dear...are they alright?" His face fell, and he seemed very young compared to these men accustomed to crisis. "Anything I can do to help?"

[Trace Kennet]

Trace felt time slow down, at least it seemed like it had. He looked from one face to the other, taken off guard by the general sight of fear in every eye. He heard Jeff's voice, and dragged himself back into the now, catching his words, barely. He nodded and then spoke. "I'll get to the bridge." He said, assessing where he would be best able to help, "I'll take care of the beacon first. And i can talk to you on the radio, see if i can't help figure this out." He looked at Jeff, "Then with any luck we can..." His voice trailed away as he caught a real glance at Jordan. "get her crawling at least." He finished, distractedly.

He was torn, half of him wanting to stay and make sure she wass alright, and half fighting desperately to keep himself from getting involved. He shook his head violently, clearing it, and tore his eyes away from the injured mechanic. "Oh no you don't." He thought, gritting his teeth and looking back at Jeff, and then the captain. "I'll get to work." He said, his voice sounding only slightly choked. "I hope we can find someone to carry us." He muttered as he headed back into the somewhat clearer hallway.

He was all but bowled over by a panic stricken Seamus, who came hurtling down the hall, seeming to not even see Trace. Trace merely steadied himself and continued up, feeling a rush of fear fueled energy course through him. He made it to the bridge, and found some small commfort in being back where he felt he belonged, even through all the alarms and warnings. "Okay Jeff," He said, dialing into the frequency jeff usually used. "Lets get to work."

[Lars Engström]

Lars gave Jeff a look that he hoped communicated his thanks. He didn't speak, mostly because he felt as if he would cough himself to death if he tried. Carefully getting to his feet, he managed to move back to the counter he had been sitting on, without falling. As he turned around and sat, he heard the doctor saying something about waiting for treatment. "Yeah Yeah I know." He said, his voice harsh and hoarse, waving off the explanation. He didn't mean to be rude, but he was worried, and hurting, and he didn't really have full control of things. "Take care of them first, no need to explain who is more important right now." He half listened as Trace said something, and then headed off.

As soon as Trace had departed, however, the stowaway, Seamus appeared. Lars was both relieved and frustrated at the same time. Relieved that the kid wasn't dead, but the last thing anyone needed was someone else getting in the way. He ignored the statement of the obvious condition of the two women, and then tried to avoid getting angry, mostly because he felt as though he were about to vomit. "See if you can't find the Marshall" He rasped, in answer to the question about helping. "Make sure he isn't dead and then stay out of the way." He came across harsher than he intended. "If you have some hidden talent for mechanics, now would be the time to tell us." He grumbled, half to himself.

[Jeff Weston]

Jeff noded and moved through the halls. His boots hammering the deck plating as he made for the exit hatches. With gloved hand on the hatch's handle Jeff com-ed Trace.
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'So what am I looking at here Trace?
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The vaccum whirled around him as the air chilled to nothingness. He climbed out and on to the ship's hull. The magnetics of his boots grabbed hold of the metal. Raising fully up right he took a breath and turned toward the area of damage.

[Lance Howe]

(Sorry, didn't catch Jeff's reply until just now.)

Jeff and Trace left to go save the ship. Good. Seamus arrived too but the captain was dealing with him which allowed the doctor to work. He had enough on his plate already and didn't need any distractions. By the end of the day they'd all probably have to be treated for several things but right now he had two critical and one serious patient.

"Switch." He said as he finished with his preliminary work on Jordan. She was breathing "steadily" for someone who was unconscious from smoke inhalation and she should be fine for a few minutes without direct supervision. Now it was time to do the same for Dru. Still, there was no use having Lars just look at her to see if she was dead or not.

"Check her burns. That's next on the list." Lance instructed. Severe burns could lead to death but if the fire was out and you were still alive then they weren't the highest concern. "Try to loosen or remove clothing from unburned areas to relieve swelling. Absolutely DO NOT touch anything on burned skin." After he got Dru set up he started to do the same for her. "Don't worry. The worst looking burns don't cause much if any pain." It was little comfort to the doctor because he knew they were painless because of the extreme damage already caused but maybe it would keep Lars more focused.

Luckily Dru didn't look too bad. She seemed to be hit by concussion from the blast, a quick flash causing second degree burns, and then major smoke inhalation. Third degree burns were few and far between for her at least. Hopefully Jordan was in a similar if not better state.

[Trace Kennet]

Trace waited in silence for Jeff to respond, trying to keep his thoughts away from the state of the mechanic. He kept shaking his head, trying to clear it, but inevitably her face would swim into his mind's eye, and he would begin to panic about whether she would live. "Pull it together Trace." he scolded himself, shaking his head violently. Then he heard Jeff's voice.

"Okay Jeff" He said, pushing everything else out of his mind. "Says here that the hull is breached directly below the engine, and another on the Starboard side of the main engine room." He ran is hands across the dials and switches, trying to get some sore of response, anything. "I don't see anything else on the readouts... but." He sighed, 'I have no ruttin idea about how bad it is." he nervously ran his hands through his hair.

"If you are lucky, the bits might be floating nearby, and you can just grab 'em but i don't know for sure." He looked down at the screen and gulped. They were running out of time, and air. "We need to seal it quick, or we won't be more than a floating ghost ship... what can you see?"

[Lars Engström]

Lars nodded at the doctor when he was given instructions. He didn't bother to even think about it, he just began to follow the directions. Another man might have felt his power to be undermined, but Lars was more worried about the possible loss of the one person who could fix the boat enough to save their lives. He dutifully began to check for burns. His arm ached as he moved it, the bits of metal that stuck into him cutting his skin, and blood began to trickle down towards his hand. He cut Jordan's sleeve, to loosen it, and then used the rag to wipe off some of his own blood, before stuffing it into his pocket, so as to have it later.

As he looked at her legs and feet, Lars saw something odd, a bloody patch on her left thigh that was darker than most of the others. He carefully cut the cloth away and saw a nasty looking shard of metal sticking out of her leg. "Hey doc," He said, unsure of what else to do, "What do you want to do about this?" He held his hands slightly up, waiting for a medical opinion. "Gorramit" He whispered, "How are we going to get out of this..."