"You look awfully calm," Dorian said as he stepped past Integra and gestured for her and the ladies to stay back. And Geof. "I've seen dead bodies before," the vice captain replied, but didn't budge from where she stood. "Medical cadavers don't count," Dorian murmured under his breath as he cautiously approached the pile of corpses. It's not the dead that bother me. It's how they died. He knelt before the first victim. The body was so badly burned, its skin had turned black and cracked. The hollow eye sockets seemed to be staring back at him, peering skyward, through the naked branches of the trees. Its outstretched hands were up in a defensive gesture, as if the person had been trying to block something, but failed. Dorian turned and followed the direction in which the eyeless corpse seemed to be looking. It roughly matched the blackened line of burned sand. "Death from above," Integra said from over his shoulder and Dorian nearly shit himself. "Don't sneak up on me like that," he hissed, before composing himself and returning his attention to the graveyard. "I've seen airship attacks before, but nothing like this. It's not a bombing run; the ground is barely disturbed and the bodies are still in one piece. It's not a firebomb either; the scorching is too localized." "You're thinking like a scientist. I'm impressed," Integra said, but she didn't sound impressed at all. She set down her research kit and received a small probe. "Please, don't start poking at the-" Too late. She'd already begun poking around in the victim's mouth and the empty eye sockets. I think I'm gonna be sick, Dorian thought as he stood and gave her plenty of space. Seeing dead bodies is one thing. Poking around in them is something else entirely. The lack of hesitation she showed is what really disturbed him. The lady's rather passionate about her science, I suppose. "Burned from within," Integra said after a minute or so. "The eyes were vaporised in their sockets. The tongue is turned to jerky. Their bones are probably charcoal and I would hate to know what became of the other organs. I don't know of any weapon that can do this." "Okay, mystery solved. Now leave them be. Let's bury them and get out of here." "I want to take one aboard to run some tests," she said, standing to meet him. Dorian's face twisted in horror. "We are not going to violate the dead, just so you can-" "They're Arcanian," she said, pointing to a strange, twisting insignia on one of the tattered robes. It was almost burned beyond recognition. Now Dorian went from horrified to angry. "You think that would make a difference to me? What, because I fought in the war, I'm supposed to consent to butchering Arcanians? They're still human, Reina! Take some samples, if you must, but we bury them and move on." He looked to the sky. "…Before whatever did this comes back. Besides, I've seen lots of Arcanian insignias, but never one like that," he pointed to the emblem. "You'd have to be a few centuries old to see one like that," Integra explained. "It's ancient. I suspect these people voyaged into the sand eons ago --before Arcania's fear of this place was solidified-- and never made it home." Her eyes drilled into Dorian, as if trying to excavate his soul and show it to him. "I would like to know how they did it. I would like to know how they got this far, but that's not going to happen if we-" The sound of gunfire cut her short. They all turned in the direction of the commotion. Dorian drew his gun reflexively, even though they couldn't see a damn thing. Was the security team in trouble? Why no signal? He began to second guess everything, every decision he'd made in the last hour. We shouldn't have landed. I shouldn't have brought Tessa here. We never should have even stopped here; we should have just flown on by this damned forest. And that's when the hand grabbed his boot. Dorian looked down as the eyeless corpse at his feet took hold of his ankle, with a strong grip. Frighteningly strong. The others came to life as well and began crawling toward him. Their movements were groggy at first, like drunks awakening after an all-nighter, but they began to increase in speed and precision. Within seconds, they were attempting to stand. Dorian roughly grabbed Reina and shoved her back, behind him, as he fired a single shot into the dead man's dome, nailing the corpse right between the eyes. But it kept coming. And it didn't let go. He unsheathed his sword and sliced the offending hand off at the wrist, but it still didn't let go and its grip was only getting tighter.
The sound of a gun shot punctuated the air. It came further off to their right. It could only be Tyrone's squad. Life sprang through their group as his squad dropped prone or slipped into crouched positions whilst producing their fire arms if they weren't already drawn. Christoph dashed to a tree closer to the disturbance so he was no longer standing in the open. He was reaching for his knife when a second gunshot punctuated the silence. It was further off and came from somewhere behind them. "We're to late, someone else is already here. We need to..." his gaze dropped from that of his men as he looked at one of the corpses propped against the tree. The head had swivelled to face the sound of the gunshot and the thing seemed to be attempting to stand. An arm dragged itself across the floor attempting to prop the body up before giving way and the living corpse collapsed back to the ground. He fumbled with his free hand to his holster and levelled his pistol at it whilst trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "Identify yourself!" The squads attention snapped round to see several of the corpses now coming to life. One of the men opened fire the gunshot accompanied by a dull thud as the bullet penetrated the corpses skull and embedded itself in the tree behind. It found it's feet this time, unperturbed by the gunfire. It seemed the Arcanian's fear of the sands was well founded. "This isn't our assignment, we need to protect whoever else has already disembarked." He deferred to Vlad who was now the ranking soldier again. "Regroup to Tryone and fall back?"
Vlad nodded, whipping out his rapier and slicing the ghoul that had gotten too close to him in half. The torso thudded heavily to the ground, the legs twitching. Before it could get back up he'd savagely slashed at its arms and wrists, cutting the hands off as well as the arms from the body. He'd seen that bullets did nothing, and soon made short work of the legs as well. In a mere ten seconds the ghoul had been turned into several chunks that were much less of a threat than the whole. But there were still more coming. "Guns don't work on them! Everyone draw your blades and cut them apart when they get too close! I want everyone out of here pronto! Head to Tyrone!" he snatched up his revolver and fired three shots in the air -then another three. Hopefully Dorian would hear and get everyone out of this place. "And if you get separated, I want you up in the trees if they will hold you!" he yelled. In chaos anything was likely to happen. "If you get an aerial advantage they can't get at you so easily. Now MOVE!"
Attacking skeletons!? This place was definitely cursed. Trixy had seen strange things before but moving skeletons was a new one. She let off a series of shots at the skeletons but they were unaffected. "We're going to die!" One of the laborers screamed as he ran from skelatal arm crawling after him. "Don't let them touch you! They'll curse you and turn you into one of them!" Another yelled, while the rest frantically chopped at the skeletons with their axes. In the midst of the panic and chaos Trixy heard a loud voice call out. "Head to Tyrone!" It was followed by three gunshots and in the distance she saw a group of people begin moving to another group a bit further away. "To Tyrone!" Trixy yelled at the men with her. "Follow me." "Why should we follow you, damn woman." The aged Henry yelled at her, his voice squeaking in panic. "You're just a slutty tramp. You're defiance of the proper way of a woman is probably what's bringing this upon..." Henry's words were choked off as pistol was jammed into his windpipe. "Say that again. I dare you." Trixy hissed. "Now, do you want to live or do you want to die? Because if we stay here alone, we will end up dead." She pulled away, grabbed a fallen axe off the ground and split a nearby skeleton's skull in half. "Now, let's move! This way!" She pointed in the direction of Tyrone and began running across the sand towards the area where everyone seemed to be converging.
Gaspar was starting to feel bored. The ship had seen it’s first actual sighting of – anything, really – and all of the cooks were supposed to stay aboard while anybody else got to explore what scuttlebutt was calling The Deadwood of the Damned, or The Graveyard of Eden. Sure, Gaspar wasn’t exactly sure what he thought he could do if he’d been let out. It was dawning on him that he didn’t have the scientific training advanced enough to outsmart centuries of competing dogmas even if he did find something. He wasn’t sure anymore if his original goal in joining the mission was even going to amount to anything. At this point, he just wished he could be doing something different like everybody else was getting to. Not cutting up vulture thighs for the something-big-illionth time. And then the forest let out a roar of gunfire. Gaspar dropped everything and ran out of the galley, cursing at himself for tempting Transmundus the way he did. He made his way to the catwalks, grabbed one of the spyglasses, and looked into The Petrified Forest of Hellfire. One of the security teams – near enough to the edge of the trees that they weren’t obscured – were engaged in a sword fight against what looked like skeletons, and all of the loggers that Gaspar could see were using their axes in the same way. Gaspar forced himself not to stop breathing. He figured that he should do something – he wasn’t essential personnel, better he risk getting killed then somebody else – but he didn’t see a way to get the woods quickly enough to help any. It would take too long for him to get into a flight-suit; the fight was to far from the ship for him to simply run and still have energy when he got there. He didn’t even know what kind of weapon he could use: the spear-guns certainly wouldn’t work, he didn’t know how to use anything else reliably enough… He realized that there might be even more skeletons somewhere else, so he moved the spyglass to look directly into where the woods were closest to the ship. He didn’t see anything yet, but it occurred to him that any skeletons that came from that closer edge of the woods – however little he could believe that he was making tactical decisions about “skeleton attack” – would already be too close to fight off by the time they were seen coming. He looked back to the skirmish further from the ship; he decided that the fighters there already had their own situation under control and weren’t sustaining any casualties yet. He put the spyglass down and ran back inside to the weapons storage. Nobody else was there, so he grabbed two guns, two 1-meter spears, and two reels of 20-meter by 1-centimeter tether. He hurried to the exit ramp, hoping to tie off a barrier around a few of the trees before any skeletons could get that close. And that the skeletons wouldn't be strong enough to break the tethers if he did get them in place, or smart enough to simply duck under them.
They’d been separated. Tessa and Geof now stood on one side of the clearing, Dorian and Integra on the other. And dozens of corpses in between. Moving corpses. These scarred husks creaked and shuddered, marching on the living with faces of pain and anguish. Tessa backed up into Geof, both wide eyed. “This is impossible...” Geof said. "We need to- to do something! Do something!" “Wha? Me? I’m just a pilot! What about you!?” Tessa said over her shoulder. “I have a pen knife and research supplies..." Geof said meekly. "Past that I have no weapon save my superior intellect!” The blackened creatures were closing in. “You’re the one in the military!" he exclaimed. Then he noticed her rifle. "And you're the one with the gun!" One of the corpses broke out from the pack, sprinting wildly with only one hand. Tessa aimed her rifle right between its eyes and blew the creature's head clean off. It didn’t even break its stride. Raising its ghastly hand the beast snatched at her throat. She froze in shock, but Geof grabbed the clothing on her back and pulled her away just in time, the corpse’s claw swiping a blackened nail across her neck. “Hey! Watch the bra!” She squirmed, twisting and pulling her shirt back into place, unaware of the blood trickling down her neck. "Uhm..." Geof stammered, unsure how to respond to that reaction from someone who's life he had just saved. "Sorry?" he ventured. Since the initial shock had worn off, his mind had started racing. The raging corpse turned to face them. It charged. Hungry. Tireless. It’s broken feet thumping across the sands. Tessa whipped her rifle up once more aiming at where the head once was. That’s not right… She stuttered in her panic. The beast closed in. It would be on them. She looked dazed, unsure. As the beast approached, Geof rummaged through the research kit. There was a small vial of corrosive used to eat through calcium deposits for taking molds of fossils. It was fast acting, an flammable, Geof knew. He grabbed it from the kit, quickly undoing the top, and then splashed it all over the undead thing before pushing Tessa one way and leaping out of its range himself. "Do you have a lighter?!" he shouted at her. Thin white smoke was rising from the creature as it spun back around to face them, the calcification caused by all the time exposed to the elements burning away with the acid. “Can’t I just shoot it!?” She shouted back. Pulling the trigger answered her question. The corpse went up like a barn on fire, angry red flames leaping off its already charred remains. But still, it marched on relentlessly. “It’s on fire, it’s on fire, it’s on fire!” Tessa cried as she danced away from it. Darting between dead trees helped slow the creature’s progress but now she’d left Geof lying on the blackened sand. And unbeknownst to him there was another corpse gunning for him. “Ah-err… Doctor… person – look out!” In a flash she cocked her rifle and aimed, this time at the knee. One swift click crashed the corpse to the ground. It’s slower now at least, she thought. But the other, burning corpse still remained, tracking her down. Geof leapt to his feet as the skeletal corpse fell to the ground in front if him after Tessa shot it's knee out. He was cursing explosively, just not at all audibly. He looked around, noted a fallen bough of a tree. He snatched it up, surprised at how light it was, but then promptly brought it crashing down on the fallen corpse. The piece of wood exploded into a rain of splinters, and he hoped that it had accomplished something as he turned tail and ran.
Christoph sprinted through the woods dodging broken branches and glass that littered the floor. The sound of gunshots had stopped up ahead and he hoped that was because the team had made the same discovery as Vlad, that blades were more effective at slowing these things down than gunfire. The other alternative was more disturbing, surely they couldn't have got overwhelmed that quickly? They just had to hope the noise didn't draw any more of the things. There were clearly dozens of corpses littering the woods if 3 groups had been attacked, just how many of these things were out there and what had killed them in the first place? They spotted Tyrone's group up ahead and just in time. The abominations were moving faster now and seemed to pose more of a threat. One of Tyrone's squad lay dead on the floor with a severed hand clutched around the man's throat. Just across from that Tyrone grappled with the killer as it snapped at his face using its weight to pin him to the floor as one hand raked across Tyrone's shoulder trying to subdue him. Christoph ran over and kicked it in the stomach allowing Tyrone the respite he needed to role it off himself. One of the bulkiest members of the squad had taken to pounding on another one of the corpses with his fists before tripping it so it landed on top of the corpse Christoph had already floored. They needed a different tactic if they wanted to slow these things down. Severing limbs seemed to just mean there were more things to came at them, even if they were less of a threat. Christoph snatched up a broken branch lying on the ground and drove it through the corpses stomach, the flesh gave away easily thanks to the time it had obviously had to decompose. With a further push he drove it through the second so they impaled together. He met resistance in the ground but thanks to the sand it allowed him to keep driving it down. It probably wouldn't hold them to the ground but if the two were pinned together they might be a bit more ungainly and less of a threat. He just had to hope the branch wouldn't snap. The sprint had brought them back out closer to the outskirts of the woods and one of the civilian teams had sought them out wielding axes. Weapons that ironically seemed far better suited to the task at hand than that of the security teams. "What in the name of design are you doing out here before we sent the signal? Please tell me your the only ones?" He addressed the only female in the group, she seemed to be the most level headed of the lot.
"What in the name of design are you doing out here before we sent the signal? Please tell me your the only ones?" He addressed the only female in the group, she seemed to be the most level headed of the lot. "The vice-captain ordered me to put a team together and get a collection of wood for fuel started. She said nothing about waiting for a signal." Trixy replied, brushing strands of sweaty hair out of her face. Her arms and legs were covered in scratches. As were many of the other men's limbs. Henry was continuing to cry in fear and yell about how they were all now cursed. A man nearby punched him in the face, silencing the panicked laborer for a moment. "Have any of your men had any luck stopping these things yet?" She asked as she spun her axe, weilding it with much more strength than the average woman of this day.
"Why even send a security team" he muttered under his breath as he watched Tyrone get to his feet and the rest of his squad form up around the new group they needed to protect. That made 11 out of 12 of the original security team to protect this group. It was a good job Vlad had thought to bring an even split of swords man and gun men. To often close combat was overlooked and it seemed to be their best hope right now. "These things don't like been stopped. Best we've managed is slowing them down. The body parts keep coming. Best bet is to take out the legs. Perhaps we could secure them?" He motioned over to the two corpses he'd impaled together "But personally I don't fancy finding rope and asking them politely to hold still." "Albion, there were more shots. Shall we send an escort back with this group and get the rest to check for any more personal? I didn't see any corpses on the descent down." He turned his attention back to the woman. "On your walk out here you didn't come across any corpses did you? Nothing suspicious buried in the sands? Everything is focused in this woods right?" It seemed ridiculous to be having this conversation while the men slowly backed up to the fringes of the woods hacking at anything that got to close. They shouldn't be in this posistion, when he saw Dorian or Integra again he was going to speak his mind and be damned with the consequences. If they wanted protection they had to know when to defer to others.
"Stay behind me," Dorian said, trying to keep himself between his vice captain and the murderous undead. He holstered his revolver and focused on using his rapier, which was proving to be the far better weapon of the two. "We need to fall back to the ship," he said, noting the absence of gunfire in the woods. "I can only hope Tessa and What's-His-Face are doing the same." "Geof," Integra correctly tersely. "He's smart and Miss Naaru seems like she can handle herself well. She has training. They will do fine." Dorian hoped the slight tremor in her voice was only his imagination. One of the corpses lunged at them, practically throwing its body. Dorian sidestepped it and Integra did the same, but he moved the opposite direction. "Dammit, woman," he said as their attacker clumsily fell to the ground. Dorian quickly stepped over the downed corpse, making damn sure to crush at least one of its legs with his boot as he did so, and returned to her. "I said stay behind me." "You did not specify a direction before performing that evasive maneuver." Dorian snatched her hand and tugged her in close to him. "How's this for specificity?" The downed corpse was getting up fast. It seemed the creatures were still waking up. They were getting smarter and more agile by the moment. Pretty soon, he wasn't sure if they would be able to- "Argh!" Dorian dropped to one knee and clutched at his pants leg. The severed hand was still gripping his ankle. They were getting stronger too. "I gotta get this shit off," he grunted and Integra whipped out a knife with surprising quickness. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down! Don't chop my fucking leg off!" He stood up. We… we gotta run. I'll cut it off once we get back to the- argh!" He only made it two steps before he collapsed again. Its grip was inhumanly strong. Damned thing is trying to break my ankle, he thought. He tried to pry it off, but the fingers were locked onto him like iron. His foot was starting to go numb. Integra set down her research kit and stabbed a knife into the ground beside him. "Give me your sword." "The last woman who said that to me-" "I don't have time for your jokes," she said and snatched the weapon from him. "I hope you know what you're doing with that thing," Dorian said as he took the knife and began trying to cut away the severed hand. There are so many things wrong with this situation… Her stance was all wrong. Well, actually, it was quite right, just ill-fitting for the situation at hand. "Sometimes I forget you're a pampered little princess," Dorian said as he returned his attention to sawing at the hand. "Let me guess, you took fencing classes between your piano lessons. I bet you got a pony for your sixteenth birthday as well." "And still, he has jokes…" Integra remarked as she danced around a lunging corpse and slashed across its leg as it tumbled by. She pirouetted, half-turned, and gave the sword's point to another, stabbing it right through the neck. A quick turn of the blade nearly took its head off. She's going to get herself killed with all that fancy footwork, Dorian thought and doubled his efforts. The knife from her research kit was lightly serrated, for sawing bone. It wasn't perfect, but it was working… slowly. He had three fingers off and was finally able to overpower the hand and peel it from his pants leg. He tossed the damned thing away and stood on his now tingling foot. Integra was getting overwhelmed and doing more evading than slashing. She should be chopping off legs; instead she was delivering glancing blows and poky little stabs while dancing away from their clumsy attacks. The only reason he was still alive was because she was a more interesting target. "Okay, playtime's over, love. Time to go," Dorian said, drawing his pistol. He popped a few kneecaps, to give her some breathing room. Integra hurried over to him and returned his sword. She quickly knelt and took up the research kit, but not before shoving something inside and latching it shut. He was too focused on the approaching horde to see what it was. "I was studying their movements," she said between breaths as they began to run. "They're getting faster and more precise, but don't seem to be using any military training that I know of. Their attacks are getting more difficult to read, less human. These things shouldn't even be able to move, yet they're moving better than we can." Dorian briefly glared at her, before returning his attention to dodging the trees. "That's why you should've cut them down to size while they were weak!" he scolded her. "Instead of 'studying' them. What the fuck were you thinking? This isn't a lab, Rei. You could've been killed." "The world is my laboratory," she said. "Perishing in the name of science would be a most noble death." "There's no such thing as a noble death," he hissed. Ask the damn Arcanian undead chasing us right now. How 'noble' do they feel? He thought, but held his tongue on the matter. They broke through a thick cluster of dead wood and suddenly found themselves rushing through a group of axe-wielding men in a small clearing. Dorian spotted Trixy near the center --definitely not a man, though she was wielding an axe-- along with some members of the security team. He skidded to a stop before her, but Integra's attention was grabbed by two undead pinned to the ground. The wheels in her brain were turning… "We are NOT taking those with us," Dorian quickly scolded her before turning his attention to Trixy and… ummm…. whoever she was talking to. He felt like he should know the man, but, ehhh who cares? "Unless these things can fly, falling back to the ship is our best option," he said to Trixy and That Guy. "You're security right? I'll stick with you while you and your men bring up the rear. Where's Albion?" he said, looking all around. "Did you see a young woman and a nerdy-looking fellow pass through here a moment ago?"
Geof had lost track of Tessa in the melee. But he knew that there were at least two of the less-that-satisfactorily-dead behind him. He had been running blind for a minute or so, but could hear them behind him. Venturing a look back, he realized that they were a little bit further back than he had thought, so he risked a moment to take stock. He was running away from the ship, he realized and cursed. There was a group, it looked like the security team that was doing pretty well against the things, but they were a ways off. Then he spotted Tessa, closer to him, but dealing with the burning monster. It was getting closer to her. He could still see Tessa, she was shooting out the legs of anything that got close, but she would be overwhelmed soon. Geof racked his brain for what he could do to help her as he ran. He didn't have a weapon, but he knew that he was fast. He could make it to her rather quickly, but just his being there would not help the situation much. He needed a plan, or at the very least a weapon. He scanned the ground in front of him, and quickly spotted a saber laying in the sand. It was blackened, old, and he doubted it still had an edge, but it would still crack brittle bones, he was sure. Geof scooped it up and turned to face the creature closest to him to the rear. He set his feet, put the old blade over his shoulder, and set himself. Just as the creature was about to reach him, he swung the sword, more like a bat than anything, and was rewarded with a sickening crunch as the blunt edge of the sword crashed through the creatures abdomen, cracking ribs and its spinal column, and came out the other side. The thing fell halved, but still flailing. It latched on to his leg, but without even thinking, he lobbed its hand off and kept running. A kind of cold calm had come over him. His mind was spinning so fast that he barely had time to feel anything. He noticed this as he ran. He should have been terrified, but he was just numb. Adrenaline and shock, perhaps. When he looked around, instead of seeing these things as horrors, he simply saw them as problems that needed to be dealt with before he could move on. It was oddly disconcerting, how disconnected but in control he felt all at the same time. But he had a suspicion that once this was over, he was going to break down rather completely, but this was no time for that. No time at all. Beyond that though, there seemed to be something else niggling at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite identify. But that was neither here nor there, he needed to get to Tessa and then back to the ship. But a feeling of dread suddenly tingled down his spine. He surveyed the area around him, yet Tessa was nowhere to be found. *** The burning corpse was getting faster. And she was slowly flagging. The sun was at its peak and beating down on Tessa, with no shadow to cool under. Dodging and diving around the trees became less and less effective as time went on and her footsteps were beginning to stumble in the sands. I wish I could drop this gun, she thought to herself, but Dorian would kill me if I did. But so will that thing, she thought, wearily peeking over her shoulder to see the headless flaming beast. It lurked behind her like a demon of hell, the black sand parting away in its blazing path. Tessa felt her foot snag. She just caught a glimpse of her boot trapped in a dried tree root, but too laboured and hot to react she crashed down into the ground. For a moment she just laid there succumbing to the warmth of the sands as it stuck to her skin. She was so very tired. The thought of melting away into the desert made her smile and she closed her eyes for just a moment. She could hear stamping in the sands. A dull thud that became quicker and quicker. Her eyes opened wide and she turned to see the beast above her ready to clutch her life away. She twitchily raised her rifle in one hand and fired, blowing a fisted size hole through its knee. The burning bastard fell to one side, yet she could still hear it crawling through the sands. She pulled away from the root and tried to leap to her feet but crumbled back down in pain. Her ankle was throbbing like a migraine. She hastily tried again but yelped with a tear in her eye. “Shit, shit, shit.” The flaming corpse was inches away. Holding onto the rifle she crawled through the sands in an attempt to put distance between herself and the thing. But it was quicker. It was relentless. “Help!” She screamed. There was no one in sight. *** Geof spun on his heel when he heard the cry. He spotted smoke rising off of the burning corpse, and Tessa crawling away from it. He cursed and then took off as fast as he could for her, his feet slipping in the loose sand. He saw it getting closer to her, but just as he thought it had her she pulled away a bit. But not enough. It latched onto her leg and started dragging her backwards. Geof put every last ounce of energy he had into going faster. He could hear her screaming as it drew her closer. But he was close now. With one last push he was upon them. The old battered sword swinging, it made a swish then a thud, punctuated by the cracking of bone and snapping tendon as the corpse's arm sheared off. Then Geof planted the sword through its chest, as far into the sand below as he could muster. It wouldn't hold it for long, but for the moment the thing was pinned to the ground, still snarling and snapping. "C'mon!" he shouted to Tessa, helping her up. "We have to get the ship!" “My ankle…” She whimpered, putting her arm around him. Together they hobbled on and all the burning corpse could do was thrash and squirm in the sand.
"Albion, there were more shots. Shall we send an escort back with this group and get the rest to check for any more personal? I didn't see any corpses on the descent down." "I'll go with three of the swords -get everyone you see back to the ship and leave in ten minutes: immediately if you see those things laving the forest. That's an order!" he yelled, then picked out three of the best swordsmen he knew and bolted for the forest. No one would ever hear him say this out loud, but terror had taken hold in his heart -more than the fear of losing his own life, but of any more of the people he had been ordered to protect. Idiot! You should have left someone behind to make sure they didn't land until you had sent the signal! he berated himself, the three men he had taken running in a diamond formation. One on either side and slightly behind him, then one more further back. This way, if they were attacked, they could all turn back to back in an instant. It would also be useful if they found anyone -then those people would be in the middle of their protective circle. That is, if they found anyone. "On our right!" Garen shouted, the heavily-built swordsman whirling to face a rapidly approaching skeleton just as the other skidded to a halt. Their blades glittered like ice in the blazing heat of the sun and in the blink of an eye the man had sliced off the creature's arms, kicking it away. The thing screamed, flailing with its legs but was unable to get up -overbalanced by the weight of its torso. The arms wiggled like demented snakes through the sand, grasping for anything living to latch onto. Garen and the others danced away from it and moved on, heading toward the sound of a woman's scream. “Help!” Dammit we're too slow! Vlad struggled to run fast through the sand, the sun burning into his pale skin where his shirt had been torn off. No doubt he would be red as a beet when -if- they got back to the Feyfalken, but now that wasn't the priority. Before they rounded about another charred and blackened tree, Vlad heard the thing screeching and scrabbling, fire licking at it's body. Vlad feared the worst, then nearly collapsed with relief when he spied a man helping a still-alive woman along further away from them. "Hey! Over here!" he yelled.
The Doctor: Johnathon Darius Kane Johnathon Kane’s eyes snapped open. Blood; he could smell it. It was a smell he could never forget and never fail to recognise. Like the cry of a trumpet is the call to arms for a soldier, the smell of blood was his. Instinct screamed at him to jump to his feet and prepare for wounded but he suppressed it, he wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. With the screaming of his instincts reduced to a small niggle at the back of his mind he eased himself up, resting his bare feet on the cool metal floor as he sat on the edge of his bed. The flu had snuck up on him out of nowhere, one second he had been boarding the Feyfalken and the next he was bedridden almost a month and quarantined for the rest of the time. Well, he thought, they don’t call it ‘Insidias-infirmitas’for nothing. The disease had been quite easy to recognise due to the- frantic pounding at his door made him jump, and almost shattered his composure as his instincts managed to let out another scream before he pushed them down- abruptness of its nature. Taking a slow breath he stood, rolling his stiff neck and shoulders. “Doctor Kane!” a young male voice cried from the other side of the door, “please sir, we need your help.” Crossing the room Johnathon swiftly opened the metal bulkhead door. “Calm down lad, what’s the matter?” he said as it swung open. Blood; the metallic odour slapped him in the face as it hit his nostrils. The whole of the kid’s front was covered in blood, with splatters of it all over his light face and mousey hair. A wave of nausea rose to Johnathon’s throat and he looked away from the macabre sight, closing his eyes as memories of similar scenes flashed before him as if fired from a Gatling gun. “I’ll be out in a second.” he slowly said after a brief pause, still refusing to look at the young man as he closed the door. Fighting to get his feelings under control he busied himself gathering his equipment. Judging by the colour and amount of blood on the kid outside the injured would be in a bad state. It had been bright red. That meant an arterial bleed; and lots of blood. Johnathon shivered at the thought. When he opened the door once more he was garbed in a long black trench coat with black gloves on his hands and a bulging leather satchel at his waist. “Show me to the medical room if you please Mr?” The man paused for a second as he looked at Johnathon, before hurriedly replying. “It’s Mercer sir, James Mercer. I’m one of the doctors that serve under you.” “Well then Mr Mercer,” Johnathon said, gesturing down the dimly lit corridor, “lead on.” Autopilot was well and truly switched on as Johnathon fought to hold back the waves of emotions that bombarded him every time he caught a glance of Mercer’s bloody clothes as they briskly walked down the hall. He dimly noted that Mercer was talking to him, no doubt briefing him on the situation but he ignored him. He wouldn’t be able to help anyone if he wasn’t able to get himself under control. Breathing deeply he tried to relax, imagining himself back in the great library of Altamura. He had spent days simply wandering the halls of that place, lost in the wonder of it all. He remembered an exercise that he had watched students performed before they began their studies and tried this now. It had been years ago now, but he still remembered the drone of the teachers voice like it had only happened yesterday. Following each step he peeled back his physical senses, the movement of his legs, the nausea in his stomach and the sound of Mercer’s voice. Trusting himself not to fall or hit anything he continued until it felt like he was simply floating down the corridor. Next he focused on his emotions, steadying the storm of thoughts that raged in his head until he could, one by one, pick them out and discard them. This was especially difficult in comparison as the emotions, particularly those relating to blood, burst from his grip multiple times. He succeeded in the end however and a sense of peace settled over him, accompanied by an extraordinary feeling of energy that spread out through his body. He was ready. “Doctor Kane, are you ok?” Opening eyes that he hadn't realised he had closed Johnathon calmly looked around. They were standing at a door with a sign labelled ‘Medical Ward’ above it. “I’m fine kid,” he replied, ignoring the weird look he was receiving as he looked at Mercer, “I’ll take it from here, just follow my lead ok?” Mercer nodded and Johnathon turned back to the door, pushing it till it opened onto a scene he had seen many times. Doctors and attendants rushed around a room roughly fifteen meters long (49 feet) and ten meters wide (33 feet). Lining the room were neatly made white beds with rails at the foot and head of each bed. Johnathon had seen the type many times before, with the flick of a switch they could be rolled over and pulled up to make a table to perform surgery on. Walking into the room he could see that this had already been done for three people who were now laid out on the tables where the room’s activity was concentrated. From what he could see they appeared to be two workers and a member of the security team, he didn’t recognise any of them but he hadn’t exactly been going around meeting people in the last month. The smell of blood was much stronger here but he supressed the feeling and approached the tables. He began triage upon clear sight of the patents, calculating the wounds and formulating outcomes. Multiple broken bones, cuts ranging in severity and one ruptured abdomen bordering on disembowelment. With a sigh he quickly buttoned up his coat and placed his satchel on a nearby table. Removing a roll of cloth he unrolled it onto the table revealing his medical tools. Taking a deep breath he turned to face the questioning looks people were now giving him. Time to get to work.
"I'll go with three of the swords -get everyone you see back to the ship and leave in ten minutes: immediately if you see those things laving the forest. That's an order!" Vlad yelled. Some of the wood cutting detail began offering up their axes to the security team who were more confident in getting up close and personal with the corpses. The detail set to work cutting a path out of the woods past any corpses unfortunate enough to try to get to their prey. Christoph turned to two of the loggers that had decided to turn over their weapons and assigned them an equally undesirable task. "I need you two to grab that man's body." He pointed over to James who had been strangled to death by one of the corpses hands. "I refuse to leave him in this place and risk him becoming one of these things." He hesitated for a second and drew in a deep breath. "If... er... it does move... drop him and shout. We don't know what exactly is going on here." He was saved from the awkward exchange by Dorian & Integra suddenly joining them. It meant that the loggers didn't get the chance to voice any protest that they clearly had. They hadn't signed up to be morticians. Dorian "Unless these things can fly, falling back to the ship is our best option," he said to Trixy and That Guy. "You're security right? I'll stick with you while you and your men bring up the rear. Where's Albion?" he said, looking all around. "Did you see a young woman and a nerdy-looking fellow pass through here a moment ago?" Christoph was about to fly in to one on Dorian but then he imagined a hand on his shoulder, thinking back to Xavier that had always kept him out of these situations. Now is not the time. He held back the sarcasm and the annoyance. Of course sir they both ran by but a minute ago and I sent them back to feed the corpses to buy us time. His initial respect for Dorian was swiftly wavering thanks to this first trip out. He didn't mean it like that though, he was just under pressure. Christoph had repeated himself enough and wavered as well. Dorian was like him he just didn't have a check on what he said, only he came out with stupid comments rather than aggressive ones. "That's the idea sir! I'm Sabre, Albion's second on this mission." Praise the design you arrived otherwise surely we would of just sat here and died. So you recognise security now, I didn't think you remembered us since you decided to disregard protocol and just stroll on in to an unsecured location without a signal. The security detail naturally absorbed Dorian and Integra into their ranks disregarding the suggestion that they take up the rear and forming a diamond formation just like they had trained for with a heavier distribution of men near back and to the right where the threat was most prevalent. "Albion took 3 men to investigate another disturbance, perhaps the two you describe. Are there any more personal out here sir?" They set a quick pace back to the Feyfalken. As they distanced themselves from the threat he began to plan ahead. He picked out the two best injured runners in the security detail. "I need you to run ahead to medical and tell them to prep for any injuries and you to get to the bridge and tell them.... He was forgetting his station he wasn't of rank like in previous missions he was just rank and file here on the Feyfalken. "Sir, Maam. Albion requested we get airborne if we hadn't sighted him in 10 minutes or if those things got close to us. Permission to send a runner to the bridge to tell them to prep for dust off? Also permission to bring James body on board?" The open cargo bay of the Feyfalken was in sight now, the first runner to medical was already inside and hopefully some of medical would be at the bay by the time they arrived.
"Permission granted," Dorian said dryly, "but I want any and all casualties --including crewman James-- secured with restraints until we know, with absolute certainty, he won't be getting up again." Integra began to speak, but Dorian cut her off. He already knew what she was about to say. "And, Sabre, if your men can gather samples of these things for research, even if it's just a few severed body parts, that would be appreciated… but don't go out of your way. Returning to the ship is top priority. I think this goes without saying, but I want any samples you bring aboard secured and restrained as well." "Thank you, sir," Integra said with a nod of approval. "I'm headed to the bridge," Dorian said to them both, before looking to Integra. "Are all of your researchers accounted for?" "There was only Avrin and myself, sir. I kept the team small, to avoid… complications." "There's no avoiding complications," Dorian said with a slight frown. "That's what makes them so 'complicated.'" He steeled himself and turned to Sabre. "Inform me the moment we're ready to takeoff; I don't intend to wait ten minutes unless absolutely necessary. If Albion doesn't make it, I expect a full casualty report from you, in his stead. I need to know what we lost today." He didn't like the thought of leaving his head tactician behind… nor his helmswoman. And Geof had seemed like a nice fellow as well, for the two seconds Dorian spoke to him. There was no telling how many corpses were in that forest, but he was damn sure the security team couldn't hold them off for ten minutes without further casualties. In a choice between saving three people and saving his ship and the one hundred souls aboard it, he would not hesitate. Souls? We don't believe in those, do we? What am I saying? Funny how a few walking corpses could change everything… They reached the edge of the Feyfalken's loading ramp and he left the soldier and his vice captain behind. The moment he was on board, Dorian went to the speaking device on the wall and called down to engineering to bring the engines up to full power and prime the hydrogen sinks. They needed to be ready to rise at a moment's notice. Without delay, the laborers in the boiler rooms began shoveling coal into the furnaces, while engineers shut off every steam bypass in the ship, to build pressure. Dorian hurried up the stairs from the cargo bay into the ship proper. Within a minute, he was at the bridge. "Back to work, gentlemen. That's an order," he said to the cluster of people glued to the viewscreen, watching the carnage. Dorian took the helm, set his pocket watch on the podium in front of him and waited.
The rush was over. As Johnathon finished the final suture on the patent’s abdomen he stepped back, gesturing at one of the hovering attendants to take over his care. It had been a close thing with the member of security. He had lost a lot of blood even before Johnathon had arrived and it had been a struggle to save him. Not save, Johnathon corrected, stabilised. While they had stopped the bleeding and closed the wound he was in no way out of the woods. The chance of infection with puncture wounds as severe as that were incredibly high, and with so much blood lost the man was in no shape to fight one. Looking away from the man Johnathon cast his gaze around the rest of the room. The other two patents had been easy work in comparison with cuts wrapped, or sutured if needed, and broken bones in casts. They were now lying on beds resting, the medical team’s attention focused on the new crew members drifting in from whatever disaster had happened outside, their wounds of the same pattern as the last but to a lesser severity in most cases. What had happened out there? Turning away from the scene he approached one of the few basins in the room and proceeded to wash the blood from his leather gloved hands. Grabbing a hand towel he slowly soaked it under the running water and stiffly wiped the splatters of blood from his coat, it came away easily thanks to the repellent nature of the material. As the blood slowly swirled away in the basin Johnathon fought to keep his composure. With a shaking hand he wiped his sweaty brow, but when he looked down at his gloved hand he saw smudged glove on the leather. There’s some on my face. A wave of unstoppable bile rose to his throat, looking around desperately he sprinted to the bathroom, barely making it before he vomited into the sink. When the vomit had cleared away he scrubbed his face and hands furiously in the water, briefly stopping only to remove his gloves. After a minute he stilled, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Staring into the mirror he eased his thoughts and feelings into order. Once finished he returned to the medical room. One of the older nurses, a blond haired women of medium height and build, approached him, a look of concern on her face. “Are you ok Doctor Kane? You don’t look well.” ‘I’m fine thank you.” he replied, “I guess I just over exerted myself so soon after getting over the flu, I’ll be fine don’t worry.” “I hope so Doctor,” she said with relief, “we couldn’t have gone without you back there, your expertise was invaluable.” Johnathon glanced around the room at the bustling medical team before looking back at the nurse. “Don’t be silly,” he said with a wave of his hand, “you all handled yourself with profession and expertise. You would have been fine without me.” The women laughed at his words. “Well the doctors certainly like to think that, they’re like preening roosters after a job well done, forgetting all about the nurses and attendants that helped them.” Her face paled as the words left her mouth. “Please excuse me Doctor Kane, I forgot myself.” she stammered. Johnathon however laughed, “Don’t worry about it, I know exactly what you mean. Doctors can get a bit uppity at times. I should know, I am one.” Relief once more spread across the nurse’s face as Johnathon laughed. “By the way,” he continued, “I don’t believe I caught your name.” “It’s Melissa.” she replied, " I look after the nurses round here." “Well Melissa, thank you for the kind words.” he said, with a smile. “Now let’s go see what this medical team of ours has got up to in our absence.” With a nod she turned and made her way back to the now calmed group of people, closely followed by Johnathon. Compared to severe puncture wounds and spurting arteries, cuts and sprains were nothing.
Dorian strolled off and the cogs in Christoph's mind began racing. So many tasks to do and so little time. His being screaming at him to get back out there and find Albion, but he knew he couldn't. Not only had Albion entrusted him, Dorian had just recognised him as second in command. He couldn't just go back out into the desert. He was one of the few uninjured on the team and fully aware of the situation and that made him valuable in establishing what needed to be done. Running over to one of the inventory manifests he quickly perused the list searching for anything of use in their current assignment. "I want anyone injured that is still here to report to medical now! Anyone that isn't you need to find crates BN-109 and BH-24. I want several coils of rope along with hammers, nails and wood. Empty the crates out and bring those over to." He was relieved to see that some of security and the lumber team moved quickly to follow his orders. Another security team on reserve ran into the cargo bay and surveyed the area, clearly searching for Albion to report to. "Albion is still out there, Dorian left me in charge. We found a threat out there and Integra wants samples so we have a chance to fight these things better if we come across them again. They appear to be undead and are hard to stop. Any body parts are a threat and your best off trying to slow them down. Don't engage them if it's dangerous, retreat. Only engage if they pose a threat to boarding the Feyfalken or you think you can safely acquire them. If you can I want any body parts nailed down to a plank of wood and stowed in one of the crates the other men are preparing. After that I want them nailed shut and then stowed under guard in an isolated room. We only have about five minutes before we take off. I know I'm asking a lot." He paused to let the commands sink in and then carried on. "Also I want the longest lengths of rope tied to the ship and hanging out of the cargo bay with a harness for anyone that arrives after take off, we have three personal still out there but we can't send any more men further out. The rope may give them an extra minute before the ropes are to high in the air to be of use. " He nodded to the men before throwing two coils of rope over his neck and leaving the cargo bay. He set a quick pace to medical ensuring to detour past the barracks whilst evading questions from any passers by. He didn't have time. He popped his head in the barracks door. "I need two armed men with me in medical now." He moved on without waiting for anyone to acknowledge him and soon had two personal by his side. "This is strictly precautionary and I'm sure you won't be needed but I want you inside medical watching the patients. If anyone starts acting off or becomes violent you may be needed." The two men exchanged awkward glances and he continued in silence. They deserved a better explanation but he was still working on what else needed to be done. This was what he had trained for before everything fell to pieces. This was the man he wanted to be again. A man in control of himself, someone that could get jobs done, that could save the lives of others. He entered medical and the two security personal assumed position, one at each door. "Dr Kane" The man was easy to identify from the crowd. Not many doctors wandered about in a trench coat. He'd dealt with the man at the start of his trip after a sparring injury. The doctor had also been perceptive enough to notice his tremors due to the early stages of the alcohol withdrawal and lack of sleep at the start of their voyage. He was glad the doctor was a man of discretion but he had had little dealings with him since due to the doctors flu. He approached the man and offered his hand. "Dr Kane, I'm Christoph. I don't know what you've heard about the situation so far but to cut a long story short we were attacked by the undead. This is strictly a precautionary measure but the Captain wants anyone injured to be restrained." He took the two coils of rope from his neck and placed them down on an empty operating table next to him. "I don't mean to presume to tell you how to do your job but I suggest you set up some sort of screen to hide this, we don't want any more panic spreading through the ship, hopefully it's nothing. I don't know what you would test for but I think it's best you look for anything you can. We may have samples on board soon if that will be of any use to your team. I have two men at the doors, they will report to you but are under orders to guard and take action if they need to. If there is any sign of infection we need to know immediately we have personal that may have been exposed in the cargo bay and already on the bridge. Is there anything else you need to know or that I can do for you Dr Kane?"
“Doctor Kane.” Johnathon glanced up from the cut he was suturing, while the blood still bothered him it felt like he was learning to cope with the feelings that it gave him, at this small level anyway. Standing at the door, flanked at both sides by a member of security, was a young blacked haired man with coils of rope on his shoulders. Johnathon had met the young man before, treating him for a calf muscle he had pulled during a spar. His advice had been to rest the leg, but from what he’d picked up about the man he doubted that had happened. Christoph, Christoph Sabre was his name and judging by the symptoms he had picked up at the time of their first meeting, he was a recovering alcoholic. A troubled one at that. Not that Johnathon was judging, stones and glass houses and all that. As long as he wasn’t hurting anyone Johnathon had no problem. As Christoph approached Johnathon motioned for one of the nearby attendants to take over and moved to meet the young man, taking the hand that was offered to him in a firm grip. “Doctor Kane, I’m Christoph. I don’t know what you’ve heard about the situation so far but to cut a long story short we were attacked by the undead. This is strictly a precautionary measure but the Captain wants anyone injured to be restrained. Johnathon blinked as the man took the coils of rope from his neck and put them on the table beside them. Undead? Did I hear that right? "I don't mean to presume to tell you how to do your job but I suggest you set up some sort of screen to hide this, we don't want any more panic spreading through the ship, hopefully it's nothing. I don't know what you would test for but I think it's best you look for anything you can. We may have samples on board soon if that will be of any use to your team. I have two men at the doors, they will report to you but are under orders to guard and take action if they need to. If there is any sign of infection we need to know immediately we have personal that may have been exposed in the cargo bay and already on the bridge. Is there anything else you need to know or that I can do for you Dr Kane?" “Thank you Mr Sabre I remember who you are.” Johnathon replied, reigning in his bewilderment, “and I thank you for bringing this to my attention. While it may take me a moment to process the undead part of what you just told me, I do understand the gravity of the situation. This is an infection control scenario.” Grabbing the ropes he quickly placed them out of sight before continuing. “If that is the case then we need quarantines in place immediately. Until we know if this disease is infectious and if so how it is transmitted we have to separate those who may have been exposed. To stop a possible ship wide contamination we need to act quickly and decisively. I’ll handle things here and report if the situation changes, you need to make sure that the people on the bridge and cargo bay are isolated from the rest of the ship and her crew for at least twenty-four hours. We should know if the disease can spread and how at that point. And by everything holy man, don’t let them bring more than one sample on board, or any if you can. The last thing we need is the source of the infection on the ship understand? It’s a recipe for disaster.”
"I was afraid you might say something like that about quarantine. Integra won't like you keeping her from those samples but I think I can come to a compromise. The cargo bay is easy enough to close off but I don't know how well trying to impound our captain and vice captain will go down. Add to the fact our head librarian, head of security and pilot are still missing...." There couldn't be a more thorough way to destroy the chain of command if any of them had actually become infected. He walked over to the speaking device on the wall and patched himself through to the cargo bay. "This is Sabre, acting command of security. I need you to secure any samples to the ropes we set up outside the Feyfalken I don't want the containers inside the ship. Under the doctors order we are all under quarantine. No one is to enter or leave the cargo bay. I expect security personal present to enforce this. I am afraid I will also have to have men stationed outside the bay as well. I want to stress this is only a precautionary measure until we ascertain everything is ok. Please do not panic." That was the simple part. Now was where it got interesting, he switched to the bridge relay. "This is Sabre, acting command of security speaking to the Captain or Vice Captain. The samples are currently been secured to the outside of the ship in secure crates. There is still no sign of Vlad, Tessa or Geof. I'm afraid I'm here in medical with Dr Kane and he has ordered a quarantine for 24 hours or until he can ascertain whether any of us are at risk. I'm locked down in medical and have arranged the same for the cargo bay. I am afraid until he can establish if there is any form of airborne transmission both of you need to be quarantined as well." He had to hope they would both comply otherwise the next request was going to be very interesting. Just how seriously did he take his new position of responsibility if they didn't? "I also need permission for the security team to forcefully detain any personal that refuse to comply with quarantine in the interest of the rest of the crews safety." He waited for the response nervously and looked over to Kane. Regardless of their response his own request under Kane sounded worryingly like the first step in some sort of military coup.
--Integra Lancaster--Integra tried to make some sense of the chaos in the cargo bay. With less than ten minutes remaining until liftoff, Sabre’s orders had turned the cargo bay into a flurry of activity. He rushed off, leaving the vice captain to sort it all out. She marveled at how a few words from one man could make the already-chaotic situation even more chaotic. It was utter anarchy. I swear, these fools will obey anyone who barks loudly enough, she thought. “No, don’t put that there,” Integra said, breaking up a group of laborers dragging crates around. "We won't need those, they're too large. Keep those nails and wood. Bring me some chain as well. On second thought, put the gathered wood into those crates and set it aside for testing as well." The group she’d left under Miss Trayburn’s command had been usurped by Sabre and now the vice captain was trying to take them back again. The chain of command had been reduced to a drunken chicken chasing its own feathers. It was so absurd, that analogy almost made sense. Just when it seemed like things were starting to make sense, Sabre’s voice came through the speaking horn, loud enough for all to hear: “This is Sabre, acting command of security. I need you to secure any samples to the ropes we set up outside the Feyfalken I don't want the containers inside the ship.” Everyone froze, unsure if they should follow his new orders or hers. The vice captain marched over to the speaking device, with a look of absolute rage on her face, but Sabre wasn't done yet. “Under the doctors order we are all under quarantine,” Sabre continued. “No one is to enter or leave the cargo bay. I expect security personnel present to enforce this. I am afraid I will also have to have men stationed outside the bay as well. I want to stress this is only a precautionary measure until we ascertain everything is ok. Please do not panic." “Too late for that,” Integra muttered to herself, but she stopped short of giving Sabre a piece of her mind. Rather than pick up the speaking device and respond, she turned to the laborers. “Disregard that order,” she said. “This matter doesn’t fall under the doctor’s or the security team’s jurisdiction. It’s a research matter. As head of research and vice captain of this ship, I order you to carry on as directed. The safeguards I suggested will be sufficient. In the chaos, she’d already modified Sabre’s initial orders, in the interest of safety. She told the security team not to look for complete corpses, but pieces. All she wanted was enough to put together a complete or nearly complete cadaver. She never intended to bring one of those abominations on this ship intact. --Dorian Cromwell--"This is Sabre, acting command of security speaking to the Captain or Vice Captain. The samples are currently been secured to the outside of the ship in secure crates. There is still no sign of Vlad, Tessa or Geof. I'm afraid I'm here in medical with Dr Kane and he has ordered a quarantine for 24 hours or until he can ascertain whether any of us are at risk. I'm locked down in medical and have arranged the same for the cargo bay. I am afraid until he can establish if there is any form of airborne transmission both of you need to be quarantined as well," Sabre said. "I also need permission for the security team to forcefully detain any personnel that refuse to comply with quarantine in the interest of the rest of the crew’s safety." “Permission denied,” Dorian said flatly. “You are relieved of command, Mr. Sabre… which is odd, because I don’t recall ever giving you command. I asked you to submit a report --if Vlad doesn’t make it. That doesn't give you free license to enact martial law and potentially scare the shit out of everyone. I'm touched you asked permission before doing so... but troubled you would ask permission for such a thing at all.” Dorian paused before going on. “As for you, doctor, I’ve never been to medical school, so could you please enlighten me: which chapters in your medical texts cover the undead and on what grounds are you declaring this quarantine? Or are we in the habit of locking down the ship every time we're attacked by the native fauna?”
Johnathon stared with astonishment at the speaking device. Shaking his head he walked to the receiver and picked it up. “Captain Cromwell.” he said calmly, checking to make sure it was a direct line, “I would say it was good to finally speak with you under normal circumstances but these are not. I believe this charade has gone on long enough, what we need now is calm communication and cooperation.” With a pause he continued, “While certainly no medical texts in Aeternia have mention of the undead, there are ones that do detail in depth how to stop a foreign contaminant, such as a disease from spreading. I was informed that the creatures you encountered outside are possibly infectious and that a number of the crew, who are now spread out through the ship, have been exposed to them. Now in my experience there are many ways for a disease to be transferred in this world, airborne is the most dangerous but some can even be pass through the skin if gripped hard enough. So when I put these two factors together, possible infection that can spread and exposed crew members dispersed over the ship, I acted in an attempt to stop this possible contaminant’s spread from exacerbating. Putting pressure on a bleeding wound for example. Now Captain, I know there were a hundred different ways this could have been handled better but this is the first real crisis this ship has come into and because of that there are bound to be growing pains as we adjust to working with each other. Now I’ve never been to an Aeronautical academy, so I wouldn’t know how to run and command an entire airship. But for the love of anything holy, Captain please at least put some quarantine measures in place. I’m sure we will get better at this but until then we need to cooperate now. Oh and Mr Sabre was acting under my instructions when he addressed the crew. If there are any repercussions to be had as a result of his actions let them be directed at me. That is all Captain.” Johnathon paused, waiting for the Captain’s response. Time to see what sort of man he is.
Dorian took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “With all due respect, your request is still denied,” he said. “I’m not in the habit of explaining my orders as they’re given, nor in listening to long-winded speeches during a crisis, so I’ll try to keep this as brief and objective as possible, doctor. We departed Holdenheim with 111 souls aboard this vessel. About two dozen of them are members of the security team. Miss Trayburn took nearly another two dozen with her to gather fuel. Once you add myself, Integra, Miss Naaru and Mr. Avrin, that brings the total number of people known to have departed this ship to roughly fifty. Once you consider any other laborers or bystanders caught in the fray, as well as any medical personnel who treated them, that brings the total to at least half of the crew of this vessel. So, Dr. Kane --and you as well, Mr. Sabre-- I suggest you reflect on that when you start speaking of quarantine, especially when there’s no hard evidence that there is anything to quarantine against.” He was about to go on, but stopped there, remembering the burn marks on the ground and the horrified looks on the faces of the dead before they returned to life. It was easy to think of those abominations as the enemy, when they were, in fact, victims. “Something killed those people,” Dorian said after a pause. “I don’t know what it was, doctor, but it was no disease. Of that, I’m quite certain.” He was barely finished speaking before Integra’s voice came through the acoustic pipe. “Lancaster to bridge. This is the vice captain speaking. Albion is aboard, sir. All members of the away team are present and accounted for.” Dorian tightly shut his eyes and silently thanked the Design. “What about Tessa?” he asked as he opened them again. “Is she-” “'All members of the away team,'” Integra repeated dryly, with only mild annoyance in her tone. Dorian nodded to the helmsman, who began to push forward on the throttle. Slowly, the ship began to rise. He wrung his hands before checking his pocket watch and picking up the speaking device again. The cargo bay and medical ward could both hear him as he spoke. “Doctor, if you’re still there, I want you to report to my office at 1300 hours for a formal debriefing… and to decide where we proceed from here,” Dorian said. That gave the man just over two hours to stabilize any incoming injured personnel. If he needed more time than that, Dorian would understand. “Lancaster, Albion, Trayburn, Avrin, and Sabre are also ordered to report.”
A stubborn man it seems. “I hope for all our sakes you’re right Captain.” Johnathon replied, with barely contained frustration, “I’ll see you at 1300.” With a sigh he stepped away from the receiver, massaging his brow. “Well that went swimmingly, what a great introduction to the Captain.” He said dully, “long winded speech, bah." “It seems we both need to adjust to working under command again don’t you say Mr Sabre?” he continued, without turning around, “it’s certainly going to be an interesting meeting that’s for sure.”
Three Hours Later Even with his eyes to the binoculars, Dorian strained to see the black object on the horizon. A storm front? He thought, but it was too small to be a complete thunderstorm. Instead, it looked like just one stray cloud, loitering in an otherwise clear sky. “Enemy airship?” the helmsman asked. He was the one who’d first spotted it. “No. Too big,” Dorian replied. “At this distance, even the largest airship would be little more than a speck. It must be a weather phenomenon.” He returned the binoculars to the helmsman. “Let’s get out of here. Heading east-southeast, 50% throttle, maintain altitude.” He turned to leave the bridge, but paused by the cartographer’s table. “Did you mark this location?” he asked and the man nodded to the big map, which was largely blank. The Black Forest was the first landmark they’d encountered and was now the only thing marked on the map, other than navigational notations and the Aeternian border. “Good,” Dorian said, giving the man a pat on the shoulder. “If we never see this place again, it’ll be too soon, but I suppose the rest of the world ought to know it’s there.” Fifteen minutes later, he was knocking on the vice captain’s door. She’d been missing since takeoff. Integra rarely went to her chambers, especially when there was so much work to be done. Maybe she’s traumatized, he thought. Maybe she’s waiting for a big, strong man to come and sweep her off of her feet and say- The door suddenly opened and she was standing there, fully clothed, not at all disheveled, and bearing no sign of trauma or distress. She was wearing surgeon’s gloves and a mask that covered half of her face. Well, darn, he thought. So much for that fantasy. “You’re late,” he said as he swept past her and into her room. “The briefing does not begin for another ten minutes,” Integra said flatly as she pulled the mask down. “I know, but you’re usually fifteen minutes early for everything.” He casually strolled around the room. It felt like an inspection. Everything was so neat and proper. “What have you been up to in here?” The question immediately answered itself. There, on her desk, was a research kit. She’d pushed all of her papers and reports to the side to make room for the metal case and its contents: the severed hand. He’d chopped off most of its fingers when it latched on to his ankle in the forest. Now it was nailed to a board, with its remaining two digits and thumb still twitching, despite having been removed from its host hours ago. Dorian immediately whirled on Integra. “Have you lost your mind!” he said, trying to keep his voice at a sharp whisper. “You shouldn’t be alone with that thing, Rei. There’s no telling what it might do.” “There is plenty of telling. The Arcanians have quite a lot of literature on the subject,” she said calmly. “In due time, I will cleave fact from fiction. I have taken all of the necessary precautions.” Dorian’s shoulders slumped. He had to give her some credit. The damned thing had more nails in it than an Arcanian torture rack and was sitting inside a metal case, which could easily be snapped shut if it tried to spring to life. There was also a shortsword and small axe nearby, as a last resort. The chances of the mutilated hand staging a successful escape were next to none. “The samples in the cargo bay are under guard,” Integra explained. “I wanted to run some preliminary tests while the specimens are still fresh, but it didn’t seem appropriate to demand access to them while today’s events are still fresh in everyone’s mind. I think a full investigation can wait until tomorrow, at least.” Dorian folded his arms and listened. “Well, what have these ‘preliminary tests’ revealed?” “I will explain soon enough. We have a debriefing to get to, captain,” she said, as she snapped the metal case shut and locked it. She set it on the floor in the corner and put two heavy crates on top of it before peeling off her mask and gloves. A few minutes later, they were both in the captain’s office, a medium-sized room, dominated by a heavy oak table, capable of seating about ten people. The room had initially been outfitted with a rectangular table, with the captain’s seat at the head, but before departing Holdenheim Dorian demanded it be fitted with a round one instead. There were stories about an Aeternian hero from ancient times, before the empire split, who seated his knights around a round table. It seemed… fitting. Dorian and Integra took a seat and waited for the others to arrive.
The last few hours had been a blur. Their sprint through the sands had been terrifying and painful, the trio barely managing to make it back in time before the Feyfalken took off. Perhaps sprinting wasn’t the right word – well for Tessa anyway. She had hopped back through the sands on one leg, supported by the researcher and Security Chief Vlad. If it hadn’t have been for the corpses hungrily chasing them, Tessa would have felt some remorse about slowing them down. Within moments of touching down in the cargo hold Tessa had been scooped up and taken to the med bay by one of the ensigns, where she now found herself. She hadn’t even had chance to thank the mystery researcher… or Vlad for that matter – though she hoped not to bump into the latter anytime soon. His presence was unnerving, not to mention those intimidating red eyes. If the walking corpses were a six on the fear scale, Vlad was definitely a five. But at least there hadn’t been any clowns out in the sands. They were a ten. Just the thought of one made her shiver and she nervously peaked around the screen to check whether the nurse had face paint on. Tessa was relieved to find out she didn’t. “Miss Naaru, what are you still doing here?” The nurse asked, swinging around the room to Tessa. “You were discharged an hour ago.” “I was?” Tessa scratched her head, sitting herself up on the bed. “No one told me.” “I told you,” The nurse sighed with an ounce of laughter. “Perhaps those painkillers we prescribed were a bit strong. Are you feeling alright?” “Yea,” Tessa said blankly, “It’s just been a long day.” “I know the feeling,” The nurse said. She fleeted off to another bed and started folding up sheets. “Well actually, I’ve never had to outrun the walking dead. So perhaps I don’t know the feeling. How’s the ankle?” Tessa stepped off the bed gingerly, twitching at the shots of pain running up her ankle as her foot hit the floor. She limped forward a few steps aided by the bed before attempting to go on her own. “I’ll manage. I think.” “Well just take it easy, okay? I would tell you to rest but the Captain asked me to send you to debriefing. In fact he ordered me to.” “I’ll head there now,” Tessa said. She was a new born lamb making her way across the med bay. “If you ask me, the man’s an arse,” The nurse continued, “Doctor Johnathon has cut a frustrated figure a few times because of him… and that’s just over the intercom!” Tessa laughed as she caught the exit doorway. “Yes, he can be a bit of an arse sometimes. He’s got good intentions at heart though.” “I hope you’re right dear.” The nurse said. By the time Tessa got to the debriefing room her ankle was supporting a lot more weight, and her walk down the corridors had transformed her from a new born lamb into a peg legged pirate. She was just pleased it was a sprain and nothing worse. Hobbling into the room, her thoughts turned to why she had been invited to this meeting. It was strange, she was just a pilot who had let her curiosity get the better of her. However Tessa was never one to argue with an order from the Captain… unless it was a really stupid one. She quietly took her seat and waited for more to arrive.
