Another Bug Hunt - Chapter 1

Atlas makes short work of the electronic lock; designed to keep out pilfering colonists, it opens with a dull click. You are greeted by a hiss of cold mist as you pull the door open. The room is frozen, the temperature on your survival suits read -40 degrees Celsius. Your flashlight beams glint across the frost rimed shelves, which are bare, before glinting off another metallic shape. A corpse lies on the freezer floor propped against the wall. There is something metallic encasing his head. As you move cautiously forward, you realize it is a crude hat made of tin foil. In his dead, frozen fingers he clutches a plastic vacuum tumbler. Discarded a few feet away from him is a large medical case.

"I fully expect a dead clown 69ing with a cowboy to be behind the next door we open."

His suit could withstand the cold, so he would be the first Marine in here, but Atlas could also withstand it. Furthermore, he wanted to make sure everyone else knew the score. He opened the mic and relayed everything they had found so far.

"...No one touch anything else until we've given it a complete look over. In fact, I want Atlas physically inspecting bodies from now on. We know there's at least one big bad bug out there, but that ain't much to go on."

With Atlas nearby, Hud gestures to the body. If this was a biological issue, at least Atlas would be safe from immediate effects. Hud would cover the droid just to make sure. "Atlas, please inspect the body - give me a Posi-ID - and try to ascertain cause of death. On your way out, please retrieve and inspect the case."

She moved around to keep out of the marines way as they checked the pantry and then headed onwards. With no instructions she kept to the rear with her SMG in her hands ready but pointed downwards, it was best to be safe. She was feeling well out of place, this was not what she signed up for.

Atlas approaches the body in a very purposeful matter. Starts to do a detailed search looking for anything of importance.

Atlas inspects the marine’s corpse, making note of the dog tags: “LCpl Resnick.” Black fingers, black lips, no obvious signs of trauma. It seems most likely that Resnick succumbed to hypothermia. You note that the body’s back is up against a large ventilation grate, fitted loosely into place. You inspect the tumbler in the body’s hands, and try to extricate it. The container comes free easily, though to your horror several fingers snap off the frozen hands and clatter to the floor. Through a clear side of the tumbler, you can see that the contents are frozen. Hastily scrawled on the side in marker is “DANGER HF-ACID”.

Atlas didnt twitch when the fingers snapped and dropped to the ground. It was a calculated event to happen when handling frozen bodies. They pull the note out and grab the tags, then further analyze the paper before logging it. Atlas then approaches the party, "This was LCpl. Resnick. I found this vague note on them... implying something about being dangerous and the word acid... Is there anything else I can help you with Lcpl. Pax?"

Iron and Metal wrote:

"I fully expect a dead clown 69ing with a cowboy to be behind the next door we open."

"Kinky. I like it."

Overall, she well pleased with her crew.  Atlas wasn't giving her the heebie-jeebies, the Marines were staying frosty (pun mostly unintended), and the civilian Delaney seemed to have a good head on her shoulders and better yet, good trigger discipline.  She had seen more than her fair share of dumbfucks who, when handed a firearm, would wave them around like it was baby's first strapon; having neither the skills nor the sense to know how to make good use of their new toy.

Mara cannot find fault with Hud's tactical sense, not that she was expecting to. Something made this crew lose it, and having Atlas handle the physical inspections of the bodies was the right call.

"Atlas, let's take a look inside the medical box on the floor - see its contents, then if you'd please remove the tin foil hat to see the state of Resnick before he bought it. Then open up that vent and see where it leads. I am guessing Resnick came from there which could make this either a weak point in our defenses or an easy way to navigate the facility."


He clicked the radio to Mara. "What do you make of this? How do you want to proceed with the acid? Figure he was holding it for a reason, but it could become volatile outside of the freezer.... fuck does HF mean?"

"Don't suppose it was the fun kind of acid. Ha!

He might have been holding it for a reason, but then I'm sure that 2ndLt Lange had a reason for strewing food about without eating it." Actually, they had not really looked to see if there was any method to the madness in Lange's arrangement. Pattern recognition was not her forte, but it would be worth taking a beat to consider nonetheless.

"As for the HF, 'Highly Flammable' could explain why it is in the freezer. Although that seems suspiciously sensible for someone wearing an f'ing tinfoil hat. When in doubt, leave it be. Let's keep our eyes peeled for any inventory lists or supply chain management info that would have more deets."

<<to Mara>> "Urruh," Hud responded with a typical shortened derivation of "Oorah."

Hud walked back out a bit just to get eyes on the rest of them.

<<All>> "We're cleaning up in here - might have another way into rooms if doors are blocked via vents here, but we may want to seal it up for now. That leaves us with doors number 2 and 3 to check next. Open to hearing thoughts."

TASK QUEUE
---------
CHECK MEDICAL EQUIPMENT
CHECK HEADGEAR ON DECEASED
CHECK AIR VENT FOR ANY SIGNS OF BREACH


Atlas follows Huds statements as orders, down to the 'T'. First checking the medical box and opening it, then inspect the tinfoil hat on the frozen cadaver and finally would start messing with the nearby vent without hesitation.

The medical case lets out a small hiss of frosty vapor. Inside is an array of vials containing frozen chemotherapeutic agents. There are 25 vials in total.

Underneath the tin foil hat, Resnick’s head is intact without sign of trauma or other injuries. The foil hat itself is unremarkable, suitable for deflecting the most powerful government conspiracy rays.

The vent’s cover appears to be fitted loosely back into place. Judging by the damage to the screws, you would say someone or something forced their way in here from the other side and replaced the grate behind them. Looking down the vent, it is certainly possible a human sized creature may have crawled from the other side.

Atlas returns from being inside the ventilation system. It was clear that force of entry was within the vent, it's just could the human factor of possibilities be ruled out was the question. "The vent here has damage from within.... Anybody could've damaged it.", as Atlas stares at the tin-hatted man.

<<ALL>> "I doubt anyone wants to volunteer for vent duty, but we know it's here. Sealing it up seems the best option - Resnick's body will do for now and we should re-lock the digi-lock on the fridge. Should do for now and give us an option to revisit later."

Assuming their are no objections, he continues. "We need to press on. I say it's time to check out door number 2 and see if we can get some answers via the bloody hand print. I want everyone to keep their spacing. No heroics. No stupid decisions."

He gave Atlas a nod to re-seal and re-lock the fridge. For now, it seemed like leaving the acid was the safest bet. The chemo-packs though, he didn't know what to do with.

<<MARA>>"What do you think we should do with the chems?" She couldn't see behind his helmet, but even now, with all this, she probably knew he was staring firmly at her ass.

Some habits were hard to break.

Delaney had been quiet for a while as she tried to make sense of what they'd found so far. She decided it would be best to vocalise her thoughts. "So like, we've got two marines who've what, locked themsleves in the pantry and fridge I guess to escape whatever happened in here?" she gestured around the kitchenette "Can't see any weapons or ammo so they've been depleted right, cast aside once they became useless. This place looks like a last stand yeah, but whatever it was got in here. Did it open this door, can it the fuck do that."

She wondered over to the pantry before it was closed up and had a close look at the emaciated marine, did he really die of starvation with food in front of him. "Did these two guys deliberately kill themselves?" Was the food still edible she wondered.

The body of the marine in the pantry is withered and starved. Paper cut like scratches cover his entire body, but no sign of any serious injuries anywhere on his body. All evidence points towards starvation as the cause of death. You look back towards the food arrayed out in front of him. Much of it is still edible.

"What are these damned paper cut scratches, a smaller version of the big thing?" she looked about the pantry with a lost look on her face "Fuck, most of this food is still edible."

You stack up near the door marked by the bloody hand print. You cautiously open the door. Beyond is a short hallway, marked with bullet holes and dried blood but otherwise empty. Only a few yards ahead of you, the hallway ends in a T junction with another door in the wall directly in front of you. The party advances methodically and professionally, but the tension is palpable as you swing around the corners, half expecting to find a monster breathing directly into your face. The corridor is clear in all directions.

The door in front of you looks sturdy and reinforced to withstand significant battery.

The corridor to your right ends in a door painted white with a red cross.

The corridor to your left ends in another T junction, though you can see that the right branch of that junction leads to an airlock door.

As you maintain overwatch down the hallway, you hear a faint, semi-rhythmic thudding sound coming from the corridor to your left.

<<OPEN CHANNEL>> Hud cast a glance at Delaney as she walked toward the pantry. "If the weapons were discarded, they'd still be here. They were taken - hopefully by survivors."

He thought for a moment on the questions she was asking. The papercuts had really been bothering him as well.

"Leeches?" He kept an eye on the body, making sure Delaney didn't get too close. "Some sort of critter that just... sucked the life out of them... literally. Your guess is as good as mine, but if we don't get moving, we won't get answers."

He gestured for them to get ready to move out.

[In the hallway]

<<Open Channel>> "Marines, keep all points of approach covered. Smoke anything not human." He checks the sealed door directly in front of them.

If there were any survivors, it would be smart to be barricaded behind the heaviest door possible.

The door is sturdy, but unlocked. No sound comes from behind it.

<<Open Channel>> "Door here is unlocked. Going to make entry and see if anyone is home. Mara, get my six. Ready?"

<<Open Channel>> "They could have discarded them elsewhere and retreated here and leeches would be more bite like right? Not seen what that looks like though." She gives a shrug to Hud as it was all conjecture at this stage. She got ready to move out.

The door swings open as you rush the room, guns at the ready. You find yourself in the colony’s command center. The room is circular and laid out like a bunker; there are no windows or exits and the air is stuffy in here from lack of ventilation. Consoles to run the colony’s vital functions and communication equipment line the walls. A large computing core in the center of the room. There are no immediate hostile contacts, but the main computer and communication instruments are all smashed. Slumped over the computer controls is the corpse of a marine, clutching a revolver in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

Hud approaches with caution. He makes sure they are well and truly alone before checking out the Marine. Trusting his suit for the moment, he pushes the revolver to the side and goes to see what the paper says before anything else.

[Assuming the paper doesn't say "DON'T TURN ON THE COMPUTERS! FUCK]

<<Open Channel>> "Looks like we found the Command Center. One KIA Marine. Atlas, get in here and see what you make of this. If possible, we need to see if we can salvage anything here - or try our damndest to get some of this online again. Delaney, we could use your help in here. I remember you saying you were good with equipment. Stay frosty out there, Marines. Don't let us have any unexpected visitos."

From the looks of things, that didn't really seem like a sure thing, but he'd be damned if they didn't try. A look at operating cameras in the facility would be invaluable.

She makes a double take. Delaney had been feeling a bit second wheel so the request for help gave her a brief pause before replying.

<<Open Channel>>
"Sure, Hud. I'll check it over although electrical equipment isn't my speciality" if it was mechanical she'd feel more comfortable.

Working together, Delaney and Atlas are able to reroute some inputs and patch together enough for access the basic controls and communications for the colony. As you work, you continue to hear intermittent thumping echoing faintly down the hall. When you have restored basic functionality to the computer, most systems powered off, but a blinking light on the comms panel indicates an incoming broadcast.

"Let's hear it," says Hud on the open channel, indicating that Delaney should patch it through.

As per muscle memory, he briefly checks the body cams worn by Belvedere and Castillo to keep an eye on the situation outside.

Iron and Metal wrote:

Hud approaches with caution. He makes sure they are well and truly alone before checking out the Marine. Trusting his suit for the moment, he pushes the revolver to the side and goes to see what the paper says before anything else.

The cause of the marine’s death is immediately apparent; a single bullet wound in the side of his head.  You check for dog tags around his neck, and find a pair that indicates this was 2nd Lieutenant Kaplan. His body is covered in the same paper cuts that you found on Xavier and Lange. Checking the sheet of paper in his other hand, you find a list of names that you quickly recognize as the Samsa VI Mission roster. Some names are struck through: Lange, Abara, Xavier, Olsson. Kaplan’s name is at the top of the list, also struck through. In the margin next to his name, a phrase is scribbled: “To sleep, perchance to dream.” A few other names have question marks by them: Underhill, Resnick, and Demar.

Hud reads the note and starts memorizing. <<All>> "Looks like 2nd Lt Kaplan offed himself. Single shot to the head - skin has all of those little cuts on it like L-T Lange's did. Left us a note with names crossed off, including some of those we already met; so, looks like Kaplan survived the intial party only to make it back here and pop himself when things looked dire. Got some names here too with question marks - seems he didn't see Resnick's fate."

He's thinking aloud, but wants the others to know this info. The more the group knew as a whole, the more their chances of success increased. Good communication was paramount in good leadership.

"... looks like Staff Sgt Abara**and the mechanic Demar could still be alive. It's also likely that Sgt. Abara is dead, given Kaplan's track record for being right via this note."

Hud checks the pistol and Kaplan's body for any spare magazines or gear. He would leave nothing potentially usable behind. Not like it did Kaplan any good, but it would be a waste otherwise.

**Messed this up and forgot now who it is who might still be alive

<<Hud>> "Can't tell if Kaplan lost it or made a strategically sound decision. Either way, not liking that an Lt chose to off themselves while leading a mission... No rest for the sexy, eh?"

Mara has made her peace with the fact that they were unlikely to find anyone from the Samsa VI mission roster alive. In fact, she is starting hope that they are all long dead, as having to handle living, violently insane, possibly contagious crew members is of less than no interest to her. With a little luck, the thumping that they are hearing is the sound of whatever machine someone used to successfully hasten their own demise or left running while they offed themselves, rather than a survivor steadily fracturing their own skull against a wall, or some shit.

She waits to hear the broadcast, hoping that it would provide some added insight as to what had gone down in the past weeks.

While awaiting the broadcast, Hud takes the revolver and checks the cylinder. As expected, there were five rounds left. He hands it out toward Mara.

<<To Mara>>"For close encounters," he quips, the smile on his face hidden under his armored helmet.

Assuming she takes it, he adds "Worst case scenario, save two for us. If this is as fucked as it seems, Kaplan may have had the right idea."

He made sure this was broadcast only to Mara.

You patch the broadcast into your team’s comms. Almost immediately, your comms are saturated with a high pitched shriek. It’s not interference or feedback; the signal is clear and shrill and resonates like nothing you’ve ever heard. Piercing at first, but not unpleasant. The shriek oscillates continuously through the colony’s communication channels. It is an incomprehensible noise, but it is not random. You feel nauseous. After you switch off audio, the sound seems to reverberate in the back of your brain.

Taking the pistol, a coldness flickers briefly in Mara's eyes as she contemplates dispassionately what it would mean if she has to put them both down.  It is the same cold determination that had gotten her through basic and moved her through the ranks with alacrity; sometimes shit just had to get done. She nods, putting away both the pistol and her stony mien.

<<To Hud>>"Ever the romantic," she smiles, batting her lashes at him. "I gotta believe th-
Whatintheeverlovingshit?"

It is only years of training that keeps Mara from shutting off her comms. The sound is not painful per se, but it is discomfiting in a way that has her mouth increasing saliva production, an all too familiar augur of being on the verge of throwing up. She swallows a few times and takes a calming breath.

<<Open Channel>>"Marines. This might draw bodies to our location." She watches for the Marines to square up a bit, keeping an eye out for any signs of lax vigiliance.
<<Open Channel>>"Atlas. Delaney. See if we can get a recording of that. Without rebroadcasting it." Her last three words are quite firm, and remembering that they are civilians, thinks to soften it by adding, "Please."

Hud winced hard as the screeching penetrated his ears, then this brain, before feeling as though it reached the depths of his soul. It was only a second before he took control back, but in that moment he felt pure dread. He swallowed and then inhaled deeply.

What... in the FUCK... is this shit? He thought to himself. He was thankful for the fully enclosed helmet. He didn't want any of the civs, especially Delaney, to see him have a moment of weakness like that.

It was in that moment too that he was happy to have Mara by his side. Regardless of whether or not she caught his falter, her immediately rallying the Marines and giving orders was a welcome respite. He checked the cameras of the grunts on overwatch outside, looking for any movement.

He nods at Mara and heads out the door. They could discuss it later, but if something was going to converge on their location, he wanted to be there to greet it. He was tired of this shadows and sirens bullshit. He wanted to stack bodies.

Delaney jerked away from the station as the shrieking noise filled her comms. Nethertheless she tried to make sense of it; human, electronic or a noise made by some creature? Surely the latter. Only a few seconds went by before she started to feel sick so she quickly cut the feed.

"Urgh, you feel that?" she asks the room as she rubs the back of her head trying to ease the noise out "I could vom"

As the marines start to hustle she grips a tight hold of her SMG, if a little shakerly in her hands. She wasn't at all keen at things being drawn to her location and took an involuntary step towards whichever marine was closest.

Delaney looked to Atlas at Mara's request "That's more your thing, yeah? I don't have the right tools unless there is something lying around here" While hopefuly Atlas dealt with the problem she did have a quick look around to see if there was any recording device in the room.

Hud listens to Delaney's very called for objections as he's walking out. He stops for a moment to say, "If you hurl, no one will blame you. That was fucked up, whatever it was. Just make sure your hazard suit mask isn't on when you do it."

With Atlas handling the download and himself not wanting to be anywhere near it, he voices his thoughts to Mara.

<<To Mara>> "So, when I wake up screaming because of whatever the shit we just heard, you're going to calm my nerves, right? And by "nerves," I mean my penis." He let's her take a moment to roll her eyes from the other room, which he was sure she was doing. That or licking her lips. It was always a toss up. Then he added seriously, "I think we should clear the red cross doors to our six first before we check out Thumper down the way. Keep our backs secure or, at the very least, get to kill something. Oorah?"

He waited for her response before giving out any orders.

"Ugh, you and me both... Thanks for thinking to turn it off first," Mara gives Delaney an appreciative nod. "Does that god awful sound mean that we are able to broadcast or otherwise use station comms now? What systems are functional? Can we get info off the computer?" She rattles off the questions, assuming that Delaney might be happy to have something else to focus on for a moment. It was also a perfect example of the problem with demonstrations of competence, which only ever came with more work and increased expectations.

<<To Hud>>"That's some freaky ASMR-ass shit you're into, but hey I don't judge. It's all love baby. I'll get you a copy of the recording from Atlas," she says sotto voce, a smirk dancing at the corner of her lips.  It is bad form to be dicking around on comms especially when they are supposed to be setting an example; only on missions like these when it feels like loss of life is simply grist for the mill of corporate interests, it is hard not to find little ways to let off steam.

As for his question, Mara figures that the base has to be cleared one way other another, and so one nightmare fuel-filled trauma-inducing corridor was as bad as any another.  The fact that the thumping is not moving is encouraging well not encouraging exactly - more like the least terrible possibility in absence of further intel

<<To Hud>>"Oorah."  If they are dealing with some kind of infection, medical was as likely to be ground zero for the crazies as it was to have been a last refuge of the uncontaminated, which meant that they might be better off trying to establish contact before breaching the room.  Fortunately there are protocols for this kind of thing. She thinks about all of the biohazardous material left behind in each part of the base that they have cleared, and not for the first time reflects on the fact that after their initial sweep, they would have to do something about all of the bodies; you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. she thinks wryly, looking at 2nd Lt Lange.

Atlas finds an interface cable from the tangle of wires overlying the console and plugs it into a data socket behind his ear. His eyes flicker rapidly as the broadcast is recorded and stored in his subconscious memory files. After a few moments he blinks and disconnects the cable, the data having been successfully stored in his subconscious memory files.

The hallway remains clear of threats. The thumping waxes and wanes, but continues. With half the team maintaining overwatch down the passageway, you proceed towards the door marked with the red cross. Opening it, you find yourself in a small laboratory and medbay that still smells faintly of bleach. The room is divided by a glass wall. The side you’re on is an observation area and laboratory. There is a small bank of computer terminals, some basic laboratory equipment, and a desk piled with loose paperwork and a logbook. A chair is overturned and a package of empty test tubes has spilled out into the floor. It looks like someone left in a hurry.

On the other side of the glass wall is the medical bay and operating room. From this side, you can see that beds have been overturned and equipment smashed. The glass door has an electronic lock.

Mara sends one of the Marines to stand so as to not be easily seen or attacked through the glass, and tap out Shave and a Haircut (or a similarly well known call and response). They are to wait for a response and then repeat the tapping at least once more, while some of the others provide overwatch. Chances are excellent that there is no one within the medical bay and operating room, but there is no point in taking unnecessary chances. Especially not when glass shattering towards them could be as lethal as whatever sends the shrapnel their way.

While this simple test is taking place, she heads over to the desk to go over the paperwork and the logbook.

"Are those computers operational?" She asks without looking away from the documents before her.

Hud keeps the majority of the Marines as a rearguard keeping overwatch on the hallway they came from. He made sure Belvedere was among them so he could monitor his camera.

While the Shave and a Haircut went down, he simply observed the area beyond the glass. The enemy they were facing could be tiny, potentially, and he wanted to see if he could catch any movement whatsoever. If a fly moved in there, he wanted to see it.

Another AKA wrote:

"Ugh, you and me both... Thanks for thinking to turn it off first,"[/color] Mara gives Delaney an appreciative nod. "Does that god awful sound mean that we are able to broadcast or otherwise use station comms now?

"This place is a mess" she replies as she looks around the command centre "Perhaps if Atlas and I spend some time here we could get some systems running." before moving out Delaney looks around for a surveillance or security console "if this is the hub they may have surveillance equipment that feeds through to here. Perhaps we look at that once the immediate area is secure? Good thing to prioritise for security and the system may give us a view of whats going on further afield as there is another site right"

Delaney speaking as she moves follows the marines follows into the med-bay and responds to Mara's request to check the consoles "I'll check them". It sure stopped her mind thinking about something else other than what happened here even if it was only for the briefest of moments.

{Control room}
Delaney is able to swap around a few wires to provide a limited view from the security cameras. Hud cycles through the camera feeds briefly. Pounding rain and mist limit the exterior views to only a few feet; you don’t see anything you didn’t see on your initial sweep. You switch through several interior feeds, some you’ve already seen (the trashed commissary, the marines keeping watch down the hallways, the door to the medbay opening), and come across a few areas you haven’t. You see an empty barracks hallway, with closed doors presumably leading to living quarters. Another feed shows an industrial blast door ripped off its hinges lying on the floor. The last feed you don’t recognize shows a mostly empty garage, with one APC in it and a very large, deep dirt hole in the middle of the floor. As you cycle the feeds, you hear something that sounds like a whisper from one of the cameras briefly, but you can’t identify the source. The video feed doesn’t have any audio at all, actually.[/size]


{Medbay}
There is no response from the tapping on the glass in the medbay. It is difficult to see if something could be lurking in the debris, but nothing obvious leaps out at you. The computer terminals are powered down, apparently not having a source of emergency power. The papers are mostly dry, scientific protocols and observations about the planet. 

The logbook is marked as belonging to Dr. Edem. It is quite dense and technical, so you instinctively flip to the last page. “I have discovered something truly remarkable. The ‘krebslieder’ or ‘crabsong’ seems to be utilized by the carcinids as a means of replication. I am unaware of this process being previously described in organisms anywhere else. It certainly appears novel among the forms of life native to Samsa VI. I must acknowledge that Hinton’s time and effort was indispensable in the data collection for this discovery, although I was the one to put two and two together. ” This entry is dated about 3 months ago.

[Assuming Hud is made aware of these developments]

Hud was surprised by how many times he had internally asked himself the same two questions:

What in the fuck?

How in the fuck?

So, he refrained from doing so now, even though two problems which were potentially bigger than his squad was equipped to handle presented themselves.

<<All>> "Camera feeds are in - not great news, everyone so listen up. Critters could be using subterranean tunnels to get around. At the very least it helps explain how they got in and why we haven't seen any yet. We also might be dealing with something bigger than expected. If we come across anything like that, I want concentrated fire and egress. No heroics. We kill it dead, and if we can't, we bug the fuck out. Everyone understand?"

Cryopod
A standard aphorism of shiplife held that cryosickness got worse the older you got. 'Just like hangovers' someone would joke. And then some lig would posit that, you could prepare your body in the same way. A heavy carb meal right before made all the difference. Apparently anyway. Whatever they tried, they always woke up feeling like shit. What they were more interested in now, was the cure.

Stepping down to the cold metal grill, they gave a stretch before giving the crew an appraising look. A smile lit up their face as they spied some marines lighting up over in a corner. Thank God for soldiers. Their fellow scientists gave them dirty looks everytime they went on smoko, and would pointedly sniff when they walked past. Cigarette in hand, they approached two and borrowed a light. Pressing their neck back against the cold metal, Dearbhla took a deep draft and let the smoke spread through her. Nothing like the first. Their eyes flicked over the assorted bodies moving back and forth in various states of undress. Some possibilities definitely.

Post briefing
Dearbhla gave their lightly throbbing head a rub as they sat cross-legged in front of their equipment. Post briefing it still didn't make a pile of sense to her. Sure, there appeared to be one Android, Atlas in their landing party and one, Hinton on the planet, but did that necessitate supplying them with a Cybernetic Diagnostic Scanner? His logic core was apparently critical but in lieu of giving them any actual triage or surgical equipment? Having the one apparent medic carry this and the Portable Computer Terminal spoke loudly of the missions priorities of which other survivors were apparently low on the cards. Or, and they shrugged their shoulders, it was a fuckup. Or it indeed could be that there was plenty of medical equipment down planetside. In anycase, no one up here seemed to know, and they had to get ready for the drop.

They'd introduced themselves to the rest of the crew they'd be dropping with, not really seeing the point of standing on ceremony. Life was too damned short.
"You can call me Dearbhla, Dev, Dr D, I don't mind. Just make sure if you do get hurt you do call me. I've not got a lot, but I'll patch you up best I can."
They made sure the Cybernetic scanner was deep in their bag and out of sight of Atlas when they rejoined the others. Androids could be funny around those.

Planetside
Sweat was dripping down their spine, and the SMG felt heavy and agricultural in their hands. They knew the basic tenants of keeping it pointed down around friendly's, but apart from pointing it in the direction of a threat and pulling the trigger, they didn't have a lot of confidence they'd be useful with it. And being useful was very important to them. That earlier niggle of worry had grown. Not that dissected limbs held any disgust or terror in themselves, but it was the thought of these people being hunted, being killed brutally, and killing themselves, some seemingly in drawn out painful ways that was a worry. They'd followed the orders of Hud not to touch any of the bodies, though they dearly wanted to get one on an operating table. There was a level of control in that, they knew which would calm them, maybe give some answers too.

They did give the bodies as close a look as they could, paying especial attention to the cuts on the bodies. Were these internal or external? How deep did they look? Was the skin around them off coloured? Did they look post-mortem or during life?

Inside the laboratory, Dearbhla looked around with great interest, their eyes getting especially drawn to medbay window. Standing as close as they dared, they tried to see if they could spot any Medscanners or Stimpacks.
Looking back to the rest of the group, they had a conflicted expression on their face and indicated inside.

"Normally I'd want to get in there and check for any more supplies. Medscanner would be invaluable right now. But from the sounds Dr Edem's log, the medbay might have been ground zero."

Moving over they stood next to Delaney. It was going to be relief when they could put this weapon down.

Hud eye balled the doc through his helmet lenses. She wasn't wrong on either account. There could be important information inside, but it could also prove a mistake. That was true of everything, however, and he hated leaving business unfinished.

<<All>> "Derv, you think your Hazmat suit can handle any potential contagions on the other side of the glass? No bullshit now."

They eyed Hud back, or at least where they approximated his eyes would be. It would be easy to take the out he was providing, to worry that there was something in there that might get inside their body, to explode out their chest, like the other victims out there. But it was it was also easy to answer in the affirmative. Nothing here was particularly safe, and what might be in there could be vitally important. They weren't going to leave behind something that could save a life.

All this flashed through their mind in a second, and their voice was assured and still as they replied.
"This suit should handle anything I should reasonably expect in there. Just as long as I don't damage it. The risk is worth it I think."

They moved forward to stand ready next to the door, but waited for Hud to give his orders. Their heart was definitely beating fast, their grip on the gun tighter, their whole back slick with sweat, but this was all ok. Fear was expected. It was about facing it down. Either they would step into the room and something would happen or it wouldn't. Purely binary.

Hud's suit could withstand a vacuum and was rated the same as a hazard suit when it came to things like this, so he decided he would go with her.

<<All>> "Everyone not in Hazmat or better head back to the Command center. Set up overwatch on the hallways and wait for us. Doc, Atlas, and I are going to take a closer look at the spooky room beyond the glass."

Anyone else who was rated to go into a contaminated area could come with him.

Delaney seemed to fall within the criteria of having a hazard suit so it looked like she was going into the medbay, but she wondered briefly if the command centre would be safer. She was still trying to process why the fuck she was here on this shit show. It was not what she signed up for.

No where was safe in this place was the answer. Everyone was dead. She sighed internally and followed Hud and the others.

[Dr. D’s Deductions on the Deceased]
The paper cuts are almost definitely premortem. There is no unusual discoloration around them. They are very shallow, hardly more than paper cut depth, and not a life threatening injury. There is no cavity within them to suggest something ruptured out of them, but they also aren't distributed in a pattern of self inflicted injury.


[Medbay Exterior]
You perform one last visual sweep of the Medbay before going in. You have pretty clear lines of sight, but not perfect. There’s plenty of equipment and debris strewn around, and certainly there could be some small creature hiding in the rubble, but nothing large. The operating table is overturned, which is the most obvious blind spot. It’s big enough for a person to theoretically hide behind.

There are medical supplies lying around, but they all appear to be either smashed or strangely fused together by some unclear substance. It seems unlikely that there is going to be much of value in the debris. There are a few large pieces of expensive looking medical equipment. You recognize the names Litkovich and Sato on two; both fairly big names in advanced medical devices. There is a lead container on a shelf. There are also a number of specimen pods on the back wall, four of them filled with a cloudy fluid and containing dark shapes.

The glass door to the interior of the Medbay is electronically locked.

Delaney contemplates the hole in the garage floor through the security camera. Many irregular piles of dirt surround it, concealing your view of the interior. There is a lot of dirt and no signs of subsidence, leading you to believe this hole was made from inside the garage without the use of heavy equipment.