An Infectious Situation

[Cassanova]

Self Destruct: 48:00:00hrs

"Self destruc'?! You've go'a be shi'in me!" Lachlan swore at the console, kicking it as hard as he could. Talking to himself, planning out loud, "Righto. So the bas'ards 'ave leff me to die. For'y eigh' hours until i'm a barbeque. Go'a get some 'elp..."

Deciding that he was in desperate need for help, he moved to the nearest console and tapped away at it furiously. It took a little bit of guesswork, and a few more colourful words, but eventually Lachlan Artagan, chief viral biologist, managed to fire up an open channel, wide-beamed transmission. Anyone in the galaxy would hear his plea for help. He just hoped to heaven, hell, Force and fury that whoever came would be worth the wait.

"Hello. Mah name is Lachlan Artagan, I'm the Chief Viral Biologist at a laboratory on the uninhabi'ed world of Plooma. There has been an outbrea', and I'm the only one left alive - containment procedures have been taken. I need rescuin'. They're gonna blow the base an' if i don' get ou'a here, I'm a deadman. I aint got a load of money, but what I got is yours.

Please, this is Lachlan Artagan. I need yer help!"​

Sending the transmission, Lachlan saw fit to quickly gather what he could. Anyone could come. The Empire, pirates, Chiss, Jedi, Alliance, mercenaries, bounty hunters. He had no idea, but anything had to be better than getting blown to bits by some cold blooded suit twenty parsecs away. Gathering only his most prized possessions, namely some data disks with all the information pertaining to VIC, and a small hold-out blaster that the base had in case of... well there was no real instruction as to why they would need a blaster, but Lachlan was happy to have it on hand. He strapped the holster to his leg and slipped the pistol into it, ensuring that the safety clip was holding it securely in place.

A few moments later, Lachlan was back to the main communications hub, and gently slumped over the console, spreading his hands widely on the unit sighing heavily. Now he would wait...

 

[Holiday]

Viral outbreak?

Vera listened to the message intently. It sounded like the message was recorded in haste, and the one who had recorded it had left it simply to loop.
I don't suppose the poor sod's still at the console, she thought to herself. Vera decided to take a chance to see if this man named Lachlan Artagan was still at the communications console. She locked on to the channel, attempting to establish a connection.
"Hello, Mr. Artagan? This is Vera Prentiss with the SpecOps of the Galactic Alliance. I received your transmission, and I am able and willing to assist you. I should be there shortly," she stated. It was a blind shot, and part of her hated that she had to be so formal. It was part of what she was taught by the Galactic Alliance, and she didn't exactly have a choice. She also didn't want to scare this person, if this transmission was even legitimate. None the less, she was always up for taking risks -- deadly viruses involved or not. She waited for a response from the other end of the receiver as she entered in the co-ordinates of the planet, having narrowed it down to Plooma, trying to figure out in her head everything that she would need for the mission. If it was a deadly viral outbreak, she knew that she was going to need a breathing mask. She did not know, however, if the virus could seep in through the skin. She was hoping that Lachlan could update her, if he ever got back to her, but knew that she should likely be prepared for anything. As always, she had her trusty blaster and her wits. Not only was she going into something completely unknown, which thrilled her, but she was hoping that there was the possibility of receiving some special praise for rescuing a man who had so much knowledge about virsuses.

 

[Kit]

Eden was aboard her ship Silent Requiem, travelling from one hell hole to the next. This was how she spent most of her time; passively searching for trouble to get into. Her powerful on-board computers taking care of almost everything, piloting, communication, and most importantly, looking for something for her to do. Something worthwhile.

She had responded to distress calls, plucking escape pods from space, as they drifted around wrecked ships. She had fought off pirates, in her own way. She had seen to it that a particularly unpleasant bounty hunter had never found his target. But still, despite all this, and the good that she knew she was doing, even if it was on a small scale, she was bored.

Which is why, when her computers beeped insistently at her, she instantly perked up, blowing a long strand of red hair from her face. Heaving herself from her quarters, she dashed to the small bridge of her ship. The computers rarely demanded her attention; only the most important messages were brought to her attention. And, she decided as she listened intently, this was certainly an important message.

At least, it was an interesting message.

Having already pinpointed the origin of the signal, all Eden had to do was allow her computers to redirect the ship. Soon enough, she would be over Plooma. She couldn't help but grin at the prospect. A viral outbreak with only one survivor, impending doom and what was probably quite a strict time limit.

"Perfect."

Silent Requiem dropped out of hyperspace, and, almost immediately jumped once again. One hour to Plooma.

 

[Tribunal Power]

The voice that crackled through the grainy holotransmission, the voice of direction and instruction, wavered momentarily as the connection struggled at such long distance. The male spoke with a strong Huttese accent, though his words were Common; yet despite the poor connection and the foreign accent, the certainty in the man's voice left no room for misunderstanding. He spoke clearly and concisely to his listener, a woman sitting in the bow of her starship, hunched over the console of her private office and idly toying with a live 12.5x55mm kinetic round.

"This transmission was broadcast only hours ago," the voice continued, "and takes precedent over whatever you may be doing right now. I am patching the transmission through to you..."

There was a brief pause before the transmission shifted, and the projector to the viewing dock of her comm system lit up with the video feed. Since there was no video in the transmission, it instead displayed the image of the audio wavelengths as the man spoke. The character had a peculiar accent, and the sound of frantic desperation was palpable in his voice.

"Hello. Mah name is Lachlan Artagan, I'm the Chief Viral Biologist at a laboratory on the uninhabi'ed world of Plooma. There has been an outbrea', and I'm the only one left alive - containment procedures have been taken. I need rescuin'. They're gonna blow the base an' if i don' get ou'a here, I'm a deadman. I aint got a load of money, but what I got is yours. Please, this is Lachlan Artagan. I need yer help!"

Then her superior's voice returned. "This man, Lachlan Artagan, is your target."

"I don't get it," said the woman, leaning back in her chair, nonchalance in her tone. "This clown's days are numbered. Why send me after him now? Just wait it out."

Annoyance flashed in the voice on the other end of the transmission. "You are not going to kill him," the voice declared. "You are going to retrieve him, alive and unharmed. As a viral biologist, he is very valuable to the Retrade. He will be needed very soon." There was a pause, an the woman laid silent, surprised by the orders. Then the voice continued: "These orders come from beyond me, Tsu. Not only are you the closest, you are the best we have for this. I have been told the Guildmaster does not expect success-- this is your chance to surprise him. Bring the viral biologist to Tatooine. Contact Gammon Hax when you arrive."

"Understood," Tsu replied diligently.

"Thank you. Your cooperation is appreciated, as always, and your compensation will be generous. Whatever the outcome, I expect daily reports on my holopad. Do not die out there, Ms. Ordan."

A slight smile tugged at her thin lips, and she replied, "I'll try not to," before the transmission was cut. Almost immediately, her viewing pad illuminated with the coordinates to the planet, and its co responding position on the current starmap. "Plooma, is it?" she thought. She idly wondered what she would find there, and why this man was so important that she would be sent to retrieve him. This was the first time she received a task beyond killing someone or assaulting a position-- it was a task that might require tact and delicacy. Immediately, she was forced to question her superior's choice in selection.

And then there was the issue of who had contacted her. Gammon Hax was an underlord in the Retrade, and he was usually her contact. But she had been hearing more and more from this Huttese fellow, an individual who called himself Laht, and she had who he was or how he fit into the Retrade. Clearly, he was somewhere between the underlords and the Guildmaster, and she was only a chieftain.

Standing from her seat, she resolved that none of that mattered right now. Neither the praise nor the caution Laht had given her meant anything when she had a job to do. Tsu moved around her desk, and the door to the bridge opened before her, where her helmsman was piloting the Barloz-class freighter Concord Dusk. Pressing a few holokeys on her datapad, a projection appeared on the main viewing screen that displayed the coordinates from the transmission.

"Set a course for these coordinates. Put us in orbit, start scans, and take every cloaking countermeasure," she commanded. The man at the pilot's terminal acknowledged her as she turned to exit the bridge. Stopping as the doors slid open, she added, "And haul ass-- I want to be there yesterday."

 

[Cassanova]

Self Destruct: 47:02:15hrs

Nearly an hour had passed, and the loneliness of being stuck on a planet alone, with nothing more to do than being reminded of all his fallen friends. A tray of scalpels with Lizzy had lined up - her obsessive compulsive disorder going into overdrive - even Zeb's unique filing system in his office: a massive pile of paperwork heaped in the corner.

Lachlan mumbled to himself as he paced to and fro in the airlock, "I'm really hoping' tha' someone comes tha' isn't gonna shoot meh. Be a kriffin' shame to make it this long onl' to get blass'd in the face."

 

[Tribunal Power]

Suddenly, the black nothingness of hyperspace illuminated with a mural of stars, systems, planets and suns. Beneath them was the swirling green planet. As it fluttered onto the main viewscreen, the HUD overlay listed its name in yellow letters that stood stark against the deep space backdrop: Plooma.

"Far orbit engaged," came the chirp of her pilot over the commlink in Tsu's ear. She could not respond immediately, as she was preoccupied in a personal shuttle suiting into the Blackshot. The torso of the powered armor fastened down on her body, attaching to the EQ suit that she wore beneath it, forming sealed segments against the rest of the armor.

Given the nature of the job, the power armor would be invaluable; she had no idea what this virus was capable of, and wanted to be in a sealed environment at all times. The shuttle she had chosen to use had an automated decontamination process that would be worth having if she did manage to find this man and bring him in alive-- it gave her some peace of mind to decontaminate away from her home ship, sparing the risk of somehow spreading the virus on board the Concord Dusk.

Finally, with the suit donned save for the helmet, she replied into her commlink, "Copy. I'll be handling this mission personally. I'm taking the HazTrans shuttle to the surface and will maintain open communication unless otherwise noted. And whenever Lammen wakes up, make sure he's briefed and tell him to contact me."

The helmsman acknowledged her, and the doors to the depressurized cargo bay opened. Doing a last minute gear check, she ensure she had what she needed for the trek and took a seat in the cockpit just as the bay's maw opened fully. She keyed the console, and the shuttle came to life with a roar, lifting from the deck and gradually maneuvering into open space. The viewscreen dimmed as a reflection of the planet's sun glared over its hazy atmosphere, and even with the light adjustment program active, Tsu had to squint her slate grey eyes in the majesty of the star this backwater planet orbited.

While he shuttle piloted toward the origin of the distress beacon, Tsu attempted to open a line of communication with the source. Her attempts failed, and she was unsure why; her communication equipment had been spotty lately, and so she chalked it up to faulty hardware and instead began the initializing scans of the topogrophy beneath her. In twenty minutes' time she had breached mesosphere and was halfway through stratosphere when the underside viewscreen presented visual images of the land beneath her. The green foliage was difficult to discern, and she hoped her scans would finish before she was forced to land without knowing where she was or what was nearby.

With a sigh of pre-mission nerve, she lifted the visorless helm onto her head and wiggled it side to side until it fit comfortably. Reaching over her shoulder, she twisted the locking mechanism at the base of her neck and sealed it, the helmet's HUD powering on and integrating with the other systems the suit was running. The last bit of oxygen was introduced to the suit's internal atmosphere, making it independent of the outside world. She glanced over to the wall beside her where her violet rifle was secured, and removed it from its clasp, clipping the sling to the mounts on her shoulders. She patted down her magazine pouches to ensure her kit was complete: five fifteen-round 12.5x55mm Mandalorian Iron magazines on her chest, two fifteen-round incendiary magazines of the same caliber on her left hip, and her trusty blaster pistol carried openly on her right hip as well as two rechargeable batteries pouched on her right thigh. All systems were set, all gear was loaded, and she was ready to set down.

"Here I am, your merciful savior, you poor disaster-prone scientist," she thought, in bitter amusement. She didn't like being the merciful savior, but maybe it was time to give the merciless killer a rest.

 

[Kit]

Silent Requiem dropped out of hyperspace, it's sleek black outline almost impossible to see against the stars. After a quick scan of the system, the computers ensured that all cloaking protocols were engaged. She had spent a long time sneaking around, hiding from authorities and so her ship was well equipped to hide and stay that way.

Eden was both unaware, and largely uncaring of this fact however. She had spent a long time tinkering with her ship to ensure that she didn't have to pay attention to it, and what it was doing. Which was why she was free to be inside the arming room on her ship, where a number of servo arms were helping to affix her armoured shell.

She grinned, as the expressionless faceplate slid down. A brief moment of darkness, before holographic displays flashed to life on her virtual HUD. She smiled as a quiet voice began to speak in her ear, informing her that 'Bolt 5 was online'.

Eden spoke, her voice rendered emotionless and genderless by the vox-caster built into her suit. At her command, her ship opened up beneath her, dropping her into a metal box. It sealed itself around her, and powerful magnets held her still. Within seconds, powerful thrusters fired and her metal coffin was hammering towards the planet.

Her onboard HUD politely informed her that she would make landfall in twenty minutes.

 

[Holiday]

Vera's craft had touched down on the planet's surface, and it was apparent from the readings that everything about this planet was bad.
"Why would anyone want to come here?" she asked herself quietly under her breath. She bit her lower lip and went over the readings one more time, sighing heavily to herself. "They must have some sort of death wish..." Vera double and triple checked the ship's consoles and power readings, ensuring that it was as difficult as it could possibly be to locate the vessel. She made her way to the cargo hold where all of the appropriate equipment she required was stored, picking out anything and everything she might need. Standard Galactic Alliance hazardous suits, breathing and respiration masks, an assortment of medicines ranging from bacta to kolto, and a variety of disinfectants. She gathered all of the precautionary equipment she would need, along with plenty of battery packs for the only gun she would need: her blaster pistol. She took an assortment of grenades and other weaponry, making sure that she had everything she might possibly need.

Vera stood before the cargo hold drop ramp, staring intently at the door. She was preparing herself for anything that could happen, though she was positive she could handle it. She took in one last deep breath, listening to her breath mask filtering the oxygen. She took her hand and pressed a button on a nearby console, watching the ramp begin its lowering sequence. The sides of the ramp hissed as it began to lower, letting in the environment outside. She felt a strong gust of wind blow into her cargo hold, which she assumed was toxic. As the ramp finished lowering, she took a few steps down onto it.
Now, where are you, poor sod... she thought to herself as she looked around briefly. What she remembered was she had touched down just east of the facility, and began heading in the direction she needed to go in order to make it to this scientist. Her gut was telling her that this mission wasn't going to go as smoothly as she hoped it would.

That was okay, though. Vera always enjoyed a challenge.

 

[Cassanova]

Self Destruct: 46:39:22hrs​

Short of jumping as high as he could outside the prefab building's walls, Lachlan had done all he could to get off the planet. For the time being he was left to wander the halls aimlessly, walking past consoles with valuable information, so he naturally had to stop, back up all the files, and then move on. He'd eventually even spent the time downloading the files of his comrades, lest of course, the data on VIC go horribly to waste. Among the files were all sorts of crazy stuff. Burt, the engineer had a tonne of concept designs he had been fiddling with, all of which now rested solely with Lachlan. So much now rested with him, and the pressure was overwhelming.

If he made it out, he'd have to report back to the families saying that the team was dead. Of course, that was assuming whoever put him in this situation didn't feed them some horrid lie. He wouldn't be surprised if they were going to, or if they haven't already. Either way, Lachlan still needed out.

The small prefab shelter's were fitted with some long range scanners, so when some anomalies picked up on the screen, and then vanished, Lachlan's heart rate nearly tripled in fear. Stealth ships meant one of two things. And he didn't particularly like the idea of tech-savvy folk who had an interest in him, or mercenaries who delve into activities in which they preferred to remain unseen. Both left him in an awkward position - admittedly he'd be alive, however which was still preferable from the alternative. However the idea of indentured work neither suited, nor excited Lachlan and he doubted any mercenary or high-tech government powers would simply let him walk away from this.

From the frying pan, into another frying pan.

 

[Tribunal Power]

The shuttle touched down on a permacrete landing pad just as the scans brought the area to life in the form of a minimap displayed both on the shps viewscreen and on Tsu's HUD. For a moment, the screen showed blips indicating humanoid lifeforms. One was inside the structure that lied before her, probably the scientist. The other was someone else-- it seemed she was not the first one here.

"Tsu, I think I'm picking up another ship on the surface down there," came Lammen's voice on her commlink. "Looks like it's stealthed. I can't get a fix on it, but it's there somewhere."

It was just like Lammen to avoid letting her know he was on time for duty, for once. She was so used to him being a lazy sot that she had to wonder what could have awakened him from his beauty sleep. "I figured as much," she replied to him. "Short-range scanners picked up someone else on the other side of the facility. I'm betting it's either a merc, or an agent from his former employer-- or maybe from their competition."

"Hard to say. Stay sharp darn there, you hear?"

Tsu smiled wearily and replied, "Always."

The inside door of the shuttle opened and closed behind her. The chamber depressurized and opened the loading ramp; the airlock-style system was another reason she'd chosen the shuttle for this job. As the loading ramp touched the permacrete, she descended cautiously, rifle shouldered and live, sensors taking in the area around her. It looked to be early evening, the darkness encroaching quickly on the planet beneath it. All around her was foliage, but beneath her was permacrete, and before her was the thick, tough structure that was sure to be a science bunker as was often seen on inhospitable planets of som scientific value. The last surviving scientsist was sure to be inside.

The scanners were clean. Wasting no time, she hurried down the ramp, which closed behind her, quickly moving across the permacrete pad to the door that lied before her. Although it was locked, there was a small terminal beside the door was was likely designed for passwords and keycards. Laying her rifle lax over her chest, she pulled her datapad and a hacking spike from her bag, plugging the spike into a port on the terminal. After keying up the progam on her datapad, it began working to decrypt the terminal to allow access. Precious minutes crawled by as night continued to fall, but after a few moments, the terminal flashed and the door slid open. Tsu saved the encryption on her datapad to allow ease of use for future doors.

Slipping inside, she set her scanners to lock onto the biosignature the blip that, she was certain, represented the biologist within the facility. He was not far-- a few chambers, a couple corridors, maybe a locked door here or there, but only minutes away. The other signature was difficult to lock onto, and it was hard to say where exactly the suspected adversary was; all Tsu was certain of was that the person was not within thirty meters, the maximum distance of Blackshot's motion sensor array. The scientist was just on the edge of its range.

"Lachlan Artagan," she called out, her voice amplified through her helmet. "My name is Tsu. I'm here to get you away from here. If you can hear me, please respond." If the walls were thin enough, he might hear her call-- or so she hoped.

She again shouldered her rifle, and proceeded down a plain-colored hallway, deserted and devoid of all life.

 

[Holiday]

Vera had made her way to the facility in better time than she had originally hoped. She had assumed already that several other crafts had touched down, which caused her to keep her blaster firmly gripped in her hands. She made her way to the facility's doors, noticing that they wouldn't open without the proper authorization. She gritted her teeth in annoyance, though she had prepared for a situation like this. She took out the equipment she required and got to work, it taking her only a quick moment to gain access to the facility. Once the door was opened, she stepped inside the building and looked around cautiously.
All right... time to find this Lachlan character, she thought to herself. The facility was eerily deserted, and it didn't sit well with Vera. She was positive she would be able to handle herself, but she needed to remain alert. She began making her way through the different corridors, avoiding doors that were locked down when she could.
"Mr. Artagan?" she called out periodically, continuing through the building as she paid attention for any signs of life or activity. "My name is Vera Prentiss. I'm here to help you get out of here."

 

[Kit]

With a noise that wouldn't have been out of place in the apocalypse, Eden's drop pod hammered into the earth surrounding the facility. She had considered making it impact the facility proper, ploughing a path into the complex, but had reconsidered. She didn't know enough about the buildings, or their contents to risk it. Not to mention the chance of collateral damage on the man she was here at the request of.

The pod collapsed around her, and she stood, revealed, in gunmetal grey armour. No obvious indicators of gender or species, it was simple and efficient. Cold, hard metal and dangerous looking weapons. She began to make her way to the entrance to the facility, her feet sinking inches in the soft earth from the weight of her powered armour.

She reached large doors, that were clearly sealed. Though it was within her skills to hack her way in, overriding the protocols that kept her out, she didn't feel like it. Instead, she hammered metal fists against the seams in the metal, bending and buckling the heavy doors, with a noise like a gigantic bell screaming in pain. Eventually, she had prised a hole large enough to force the doors open, and did so with the augmented strength of her suit, hammering the doors back into the recesses of the walls which normally held them.

Eden stepped into the facility, her HUD highlighting objects of interest, structural weak points and all sorts of minutiae that she had no time for. She set her scanners to active; now that she was on the ground, she had no call for stealth. Eventually, her powerful scanning suite had built a picture of the facility, as well as picking out three other life signs.

She grinned.

With heavy, armoured footfalls, she stalked into the complex. She would locate and deal with each lifeform one by one, however she needed to.

 

[Cassanova]

The base was eerie. The winds outside swept past the base, creaking some of the comms arrays that rested on it's roof. The silence was truly deafening. Maddening, even. All that changed when Lachlan heard the thud that he assumed was either some sort of rescue, or a natural disaster. Confirming one way or another was easy for him, the base was equipped with life sensors, which allowed the team to discover any local fauna that was trying to break into the base, or raid the waste disposal pods. However, when he read that there was three other life signs, all reading approximately human size and shape, Lachlan began to fret.

He wasn't sure why at first, but the possibilities quickly dawned upon him. Three beings from the same group was good. Three from different... not so good. The idea that three parties were all here to rescue him scared him - chances were, of course, that they were all here because they wanted something from Lachlan. Whether or not he would comply with that was an argument to be had at a later date. However, when it came to a pack of animals... there was always a fight to see who would be the alpha leader.

 

[Tribunal Power]

The sudden ground-shaking bang started Tsu and set her on edge. Her best guess was either a detonation in the facility wall to get in, or someone crash-landing a shuttle. Explosion or haphazard touchdown, she hoped earnestly that the individual involved was killed. One less player in this game was a good thing.

Still, the noise made her nervous, and she hurried down the corridor toward the blip on her motion sensors. The other one popped up in range, finally- another hunter, probably, closing in on the person of interest. Tsu was determined to get there first, but... Could she hold on to him, with all this hostile activity?

"Lammen, I'm almost there, but the shit's gonna hit the fan pretty soon and I'm gonna need a way out. Come up with a diversion and have it set on my mark. Got it?"

The static was almost too strong to hear him, but his words chirped back, "Got it."

She was so close now, but the others weren't far off either. There was a turn in the corridor, and then a locked double door. Her datapad brought up the encryption from the previous one, and it slid open before her. She quickly stepped inside, to see a large room filled with terminals, papers, and bodies. On the far side of the room was an airlock that led to a laboratory of some kind, based on the look through the transperisteel window.

She was right on top of the blip now. She laxed her rifle, a show of peace if he saw her before she saw him, and glanced around. One look toward the blip on her sensor, and there he was, reading the signatures on a scanner of his own.

Quickly, hopefully before he had a chance to assume the worst of her, her female voice flowed through the speakers in her helmet, "Dr. Artagan, please, we have to hurry. I'm here to get you out of this place. There are other people here that want to kill you, and they're right outside. Please, follow me right now and we'll make it out of here."

She waited precious seconds to ensure he would follow, and if he did, she would hurry back through the door from which she came to retrace her steps back to her ship. At least she knew the others that were here were not on that path, even if they were only just outside... Grasping her rifle a little more tightly, she kept her wits about her, ready to react to these individuals if they surfaced and respond to any threat. For once, she hoped there would be no combat-- she hated having to protect others who couldn't fight for themselves.

 

[Holiday]

Vera jumped slightly at the sound of the crash herself. She was beginning to doubt her decision on coming here, but it was too late now. She was already here, and there was no changing that now. She needed to carry out with her mission no matter what happened. It wasn't like she had much of a choice anyway.
After proceeding down a few more corridors, slicing into locked doors and consoles, and trying to remain as quiet as she possibly could, she came across what appeared to be the room in which this "viral outbreak" had started. Monitors and screens of all shapes and sizes, testing equipment, paper, and most prominently, the bodies. The sight sent a chill down Vera's spine as she wondered how the individuals died. Was it slow, fast, painful, painless? There were a million possibilities that could be done with a virus that had been converted into a weapon. The idea frightened her again, and made her question once again whether or not it really was a good idea to come here. She decided now that, if nothing else, the Galactic Alliance might like to have such a viral specialist at their sides. Most likely not for the creation of weapons however, but for the creation of cures.

Vera's train of thought was interrupted as she heard muffled sounds, that which she assumed was the sound of speech. She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes, not knowing if it was Lachlan himself or if it was someone else who was pursuing him, just like she was. She decided not to take any chances, peering into the room. She tapped on the glass separating the room she was in and the room Lachlan was in, attempting to get his attention. It could be seen from her dress, or at least what was "dictated as regulation", that she was Galactic Alliance. She hoped this would help put Lachlan's mind at ease a little bit, and encourage him to come with her. She continued to maintain an astute sense of precaution, glancing behind her, next to her, and listening closely for anything that didn't sound normal.

Then again... nothing in this place seemed normal.

 

[Kit]

Eden smashed her way through another bulkhead, sealed to keep the virus in. And, no doubt, the outside world firmly out. She grinned as she tore her way through. Whoever had designed this place probably hadn't paid enough attention to the outside, focussing instead on the risk of the virus.

She kept heading towards the two life signs that had converged. The other blips appeared to be as well. It was, she decided, more likely that the man who had called for help be one of those static blips, rather than the moving ones. And if he wasn't she could always keep looking.

Eventually she reached what was clearly a control room. It was stuffed with computers, and bodies were strewn everywhere. They appeared to have died in panic, or resignation, rather than violently. So the virus part was likely true. She noticed what appeared to be a decontamination airlock. A sensible precaution when dealing with virulent substances. Not very good at keeping people out though. She considered entering more peacefully; likely she had already drawna deal of attention to herself with her less than quiet entrance.

She shrugged off the idea, already committed to a spectacular entrance.

Her suit was large enough, and more than strong enough to simply walk through the airlock as if it were spiderwebs, glass shattering and falling all around her as she strode through it, falling like rain on and around her gunmetal armour. Again, she grinned. Her last suit of armour had been beautiful, but this version was truly something else.

She noticed two figures before her, one male and the other armoured. Her kind of guy. The armoured figure was holding a weapon, so likely lacked integrated weapons like Eden. And they were doing so well. She resisted the urge to shake her head, and instead stood, silently.

She would let them make the first move.

 

[Cassanova]

Lachlan turned as he saw the three people converge upon him within a matter of seconds. It was an odd coincidence to be certain, but truthfully, Lachlan's hand nervously fell to his hold-out blaster. He raised it up to each of the three people who had come to rescue him, frantically changing targets. It was abundantly clear that his experience with a blaster was limited to 'point it that way, and squeeze this bit'.

"A'ight. Which o' yer bass'erds are 'ere ter kill me, and which o' yer are 'ere ter get me the kriff ou'a 'ere!? I aint movin' until someone tells me which way ter go!" He raised his weapon to each of them, careful to let his weapon linger a little more upon Eden, as her armour seemed to be a great deal more menacing than any of the others.

Lachlan's mind raced, as he simply didn't know what to do. Even if two of these people, or all of them were operating on the same team, he had no idea of knowing if they were telling the truth, or if that team was sent here to kill him. For all his guesses he could be staring at the same people who had dismissively activated the self-destruct sequence. Then again, he still had around forty-six hours to figure out who was who, so the pressure wasn't really on. Not yet.

 

[Tribunal Power]

Before the scientist could acknowledge her, Tsu heard a knocking and turned her attention to the glass where another individual was peering through. On the other side was a woman who was rank with Alliance gear. "Great," she thought as she saw the individual. Still, with her mission objective of recovering Lachlan alive, she couldn't afford altercation if it could be avoided, and so she made certain not to make any sudden movements or shift her weapon too much.

Then, when she thought it couldn't get any worse, a series of crashes culminated in a shatter through which a bulky grey suit of armor entered the room. Tsu was not entirely sure if it was a droid or an extremely advanced powersuit, but either way, it looked much more deadly than she and her suit did. Again, despite her instinct to dive for cover and fire, she stood still as a statue, gripping so tightly onto her rifle that she thought it might buckle between her fingers.

"Dr. Artagan," she stated calmly, "my people can offer you everything. A full lab, deep accounts of research funds, and complete protection from anyone who would want to harm you. Think about it... You would be free from the constraints of mainstream science, free to operate at your own pace in your own way, of your own accord. You would be given a new home, and paid handsomely. I have a ship ready to go-- we can leave right now, if you want. You don't have to stay here another second."

She knew she would not be the only one making her case. The situation was as tense as a wookie's asshole. One wrong word, and she could see the whole room lighting up with gunfire-- a scenario the doctor, relatively unarmored and inadequately armed, would probably not survive. If that happened, it would be Tsu who paid the price.

 

[Kit]

Eden scoffed, the noise leaving her suits vocaliser as little more than a burst of angry static. She had made sure that the vocaliser unit removed all traces of gender and identity from her voice, with the side effect of making her seem a lot more intimidating; exactly as she had intended.

She raised her hands, palms up; a non-aggressive gesture in any culture. Though she had already decided she didn't trust the black armoured Tsu, anyone willing to promise so much so easily clearly had an agenda. She didn't appear to be Sith, her armour was certainly non-standard, and her lack of familiarity and co-operation with the alliance aligned woman was certainly telling.

"I'm not here to kill you. At least, I'm not provided you prove to me that you weren't responsible for this."

She gestured with her head behind her. Though she was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt, she wasn't simply going to absolve him of all blame without asking a few questions. She didn't address the other two. Until they became a priority, her attention would be on the scientist.

 

[Holiday]

This was why Vera had felt uneasy. She knew that things had to go wrong at some point, and it looked like everything had decided to go wrong at the exact same time. She had refrained from drawing her blaster for the time being, knowing that this had immediately turned into a volatile situation that had the potential to make sure no one walked away alive.

"Mr. Artagan," said Vera calmly, making sure to play close heed to the others in the room with her. Everyone was armed, everyone was dangerous. "I'm here representing the Galactic Alliance. All I came here to offer you is the opportunity to create cures and save lives, instead of losing them like this," she continued, motioning to his companions on the floor. "Instead of being deceived and manipulated like the situation you currently find yourself in, you could be working with other to help save lives, so that something like this doesn't happen again." To most, her offer wouldn't seem like much. Her words were spoken with sincerity, however.

Vera had spoken her bit now. She desperately hoped that Lachlan would go with her, but it was entirely up to him now. She had no say in the matter, and whenever he had decided who to go with, teams would be picked very quickly. The team of Lachlan and his chosen saviour, and the team of the two people who wanted them for their cause. Or rather, in this case, the two who most likely wanted him for their own cause.