2022-02-05: Out of the Starlit Dark
- Log: Out of the Starlit Dark
- Cast: Saraven Vai, Riddhe Marcenas, Roux Louka, Murrue Ramius, Anita Rosetta, Mayvy Hawkins, Mitsuba Greyvalley, Eight York, Caruleum Vaull, Soji Murakumo
- Where: Lagrange 1 Spacelanes
- Date: February 05, 0096
- Summary: Pursuing a garbled SOS, Londo Bell and Federation Forces stumble upon a mystery.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
An otherwise uneventful patrol was interrupted a few minutes ago by a spike of sudden radio activity on the space lane between the near-Earth mining asteroid Ganymed and the Lunar spaceport and shipbuilding yard at Von Braun City. What made it through was a garbled transmission. No words - only a series of pings in a universally recognized pattern.
SOS.
By the time anyone arrives at the scene, though, the emergency is over - and it's not clear if there are any souls left to save.
The transmission cut out well before anyone so much as entered sensor range. A simple scan reveals that it did so with good reason. A large space freighter hangs in space, an old Pizarro-class transport long since sold to civilian interests as a bulk hauler and slapped with the name 'BUNDTBACHER LOGISTICS' on the side of the starframe. The hauler is now broken and lifeless, its hull layed open and shattered. Debris spins ponderously in the void around a massive hull breach sliced into the side of the ship's hold.
Some of the debris is clearly not metal. A few bodies can be seen drifting away from the wreck of the ship. Whatever happened, it took a human toll.
What's all the more baffling is that the ship hangs there, alone - only a distant asteroid fragment drifting through space a ways behind the wreck. Whatever happened must have happened quickly and unexpectedly - enough so for the cause to not be readily apparent.
No further transmissions come from the ship. Only a few sparks can be seen flickering from the open breach in the hold.
What happened here?
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
The Delta Plus, hours ago, was finishing up a patrol, and was Riddhe was happy to get some rest after the long shift he pulled, having pulled a double because someone had a birth in the family. Which, sure, Riddhe was happy for. It's why he volunteered...but the end of the shift after all that time has a way to make one regret kindness.
This was why, right now, hearing the distress initially caused him more to groan. "Ugh, I bet it's just a communication or power failure...I really should leave it to someone else.." he mutters, but...well, Riddhe just can't let it go. He shifts the Delta Plus towards the signal and pushes the speed up. Just to make this go faster.
Now that' he's here, he's a bit shocked. He also feels bad for thinking it was something benign, and glad he didn't just brush it off. He slows down and shifts the Delta Plus into Mobile suit mode. "Anyone out there...Hauler please respond?" he asks, knowing likely it wouldn't be so easy. Riddhe sucks in a breath...
This was likely going to be an investigation and not a rescue mission. His heart, chills, because he has a suspicion. Mostly because he is likely to always blame them first. He pulls closer to the hauler but is careful. Beam rifle out just in case it was an ambush.[space(4)]
<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.
EARLIER, ON THE BRIDGE
Roux Louka, exercising her contractor right to be out of uniform AND THUS wearing a short-sleeved blouse-singlet and trousers composed entirely of a long interleaved wrap of purple color, plus some texture sandals for navigating, shades her eyes. "So that's the Dreisstrager, huh...? I'm glad to see there's still some new stuff out there. It was built by that Martian company, right?"
Roux squints. "Why does it have such a tiny bridge? Is that just a sensor pod?"
"Oh, no!" chirps Licia Chovan, official pilot of the Ra Mari. "It's in the same proportion as ours, though I think it's about two and a half times the size - given its scale, though, that matches up, right?"
"What?" Roux says.
"The Dreisstrager's a little bigger than us!"
"Like what, nine hundred meters?"
"Two thousand and twenty-one meters from tip to stern!" Licia reports.
"WHAT??" says Roux Louka.
NOW, ON THE CATAPULT
"Roux Louka, launching in the Z II!" Roux states, as the electronic catapult hurls the Gundam into the void. ("I'm still calling BS on a ship that big," Roux says, looking with a sort of envy at the looming battleship. "Seriously... you could build an entire fleet with that much stuff. Does it have a magic jar that craps out Mobile Suits or something?")
Then she looks towards the wreck. Roux rises in the relative plane of the ecliptic, as described in relationship to the hauler. "Getting into overwatch... are you detecting any survivors in Normal Suits, Dreisstrager? Some may be adrift, but if their oxygen and power's lasted..."
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
EARLIER
The Archangel, had she been a person, would still be in traction from the fight over Frontier 7. Thankfully, this young lady heals faster, and she was as anxious as her Captain, Murrue Ramius, to get back to mission. So, here she was, with the Archangel and crew, practicing crash recoveries with the mobile suit pilots. These are difficult under any situation, but Murrue see's it being needed more in the future. Precise manuervering where the Archangel scoops an inoperable mobile suit into one of its bays via the catapult decks.
A DISTRESS SIGNAL . . .
The Archangel, Captain wary of an ambush, after no response, and no follow-up to the signal moves in slow from the outer range of the ships sensors.
"Helm, nice and slow. Tactical, I want to know if there is so much as an accidental degassing of a small rock body object." Captain Ramius uses her own optical sensors to make out what she can, which isn't much.
Murrue puts her hands on her hips, "This is the Archangel on general frequencies, answering an earlier distress call in this area. Please respond." Nothing, but two things start to show, not on visual, but on sensors. One shows as debris. One looks like, the Dreisstrager. What happened here?
Murrue walks to an auxiliary station, waving one of her officers over. "I want you to begin searching for any emissions trails, or any anomalous minovsky or other exotic particle readings or build ups in the area."
<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.
There had been an SOS... and then, there wasn't. This is never a good sign, in any situation. But they still have to investigate and so, Anita launches in her Variable Fighter(a VF-25 variant customized to her specifications, sporting a green and blue coloration with white trim to match her outfit) to get a closer look. The fighter speeds toward the scene of the emergency and, with a probably-unnecessary flip, converts into GERWALK mode for greater maneuverability through the site.
A slight grimace crosses over Anita's face as she observes. She's usually unflappable - the easy-going, go-with-the-flow-type - but even this is enough to affect her mood. The one advantage of having only a canopy over your head to protect from the horrors of space is that you can get a much more direct view of the situation, rather than a digital recreation. The downside is... sometimes you don't want that clear of a picture.
"...Are you all seeing this?" Anita asks. The others are already on the task for looking to survivors. She'll help if any are detected, but for now she continues the investigation. "What kind of weapon did that kind of damage? Any Minovsky readings or anything?"
With that said, she pats the little robot in her lap - that's right, she's brought her Haro along, but not just for companionship.
"Haro, take plenty of pictures, alright? We might need them for future reference." Anita asks. The little robot's eyes briefly turn Serious as it chirps out an 'Understood!' and begins capturing images of the scene.
"'Bundtbacher Logistics'... do we have any data on 'em?" She asks. She carefully maneuvers her machine through and around the site, to get a look from as many different angles as possible - you never know when you might spot something useful.
<Pose Tracker> Mayvy Hawkins has posed.
The Dreisstrager was on maneuvers relatively close by, and manages to be on-scene within a few hours; it's rather sprightly for a ship the size of a city. Remarkably so.
ON THE BRIDGE:
Technical Chief Mayvy Hawkins is visible in a window on the main screen. She's down below, in her usual nook of the AOS core, already surveying the damage via scanners as the communications station broadcasts identification and its intent to provide aid. There's no response.
"We're getting nothing," she says, broadcasting both to the bridge and fellow responders, looking at something off-camera. "Not seeing any non-ballistic motion here, and thermals are cold. Looks like we missed the action." She smirks mirthlessly.
The ship comes to a stop. Without much to help with perspective in the depths of pace, it does look *quite* large--it's easy to think it's coming dangerously close.
"Hm. I don't like this," Mayvy half-mutters. "Right." She stands up, the camera feed to the bridge aiming up to track her face. "I'm going to check it out, cap." She doesn't ask permission--she barely thinks to right now. This is a mystery... and an excuse to play around with a toy she's been working on.
A quick walk, tram ride, walk, elevator ride, and walk later, she's in the cockpit of a slender-but-boxy purple machine, bearing a backpack-mounted radar dish: the eEXM-17AN Alto (Analysis Type). She's practically bouncing in the seat as she seals the helm of her normal suit, stepping onto the launch catapult.
"Hawkins, Alto-AN, launching!" she announces, bracing herself...
and she shoots out toward the scene, slowly pulling back and thrusting to a stop near the debris field's edge. She glances to her right in the cockpit, where a laptop is mounted and hooked into the Alto's systems by cable. She taps a few keys, mumbling to herself about fat normal suit fingers... and the scanning dome on the Alto's back awakens, lighting up her HUD with information.
She thumbs through several scan modes, each painting a different array of colors over the display. "Right. Confirming no life signs in line-of-sight."
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuba Greyvalley has posed.
Mitsuba can't make every problem her problem. She just can't, even if she desperately wants to and her brain is constantly telling her that every problem in the world is her problem. Still, if they're going to be out in space, this one is easy to follow up on and isn't even very far out of their usual way, so she's happy to not only go check it out but provide a tow for some ships more firmly in a normal Federation chain of command.
It's good for them to do joint operations. It makes the times where Mitsuba decides to freestyle more digestible to everyone else.
Mitsuba remains on the bridge. When Roux transmits, she's quick with a transmission back. "Nothing from our main sensor array." Mayvy says she's going to check it out, and Mitsuba simply says, "Understood. Stay safe."
She settles in on the bridge to monitor from a distance -- and provide a safe escape route if need be.
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
The Ra Mari is present, but hanging back; there's too much chance of bumping into things to go in close, especially since they have all these mobile suits to do the trick for them. For her part, Captain York proves somewhat amused at the exchange between Roux and Licia... but that was then, and this is now.
"We've got two ships on the danger zone," she says to her crew, and starts directing orders. "We'll be patrolling the outlying area, in case of any unexpected visitors."
"So, sensors on full, and keep defenses at the ready. Our job is to make sure nobody sneaks up on the investigators."
Eight sits back in her chair, looking at the displayed data coming from the other ships thoughtfully.
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
If one was merely looking for something small, then the change that actually takes place is probably startlingly alarming. There is a twisting of space-time as a dimensional boundary distortion -- perhaps several, it is difficult to tell, because it is happening too approximately close to the gathering of vessels and wreckage, and there's a lot of Nothing to account for between them -- rips a momentary gap into reality before it blinks out of existence.
It wasn't a big one-- but more than big enough for a mobile weapon to slip through.
Nothing registers on sensors. Visuals are the easiest way to pick the object that came through up; even then, it isn't entirely friendly to observation-by-camera if it gets to a certain distance. It's definitely some sort of scouting unit. If it was passing within that distance (and it's easy to achieve in space), perhaps the only way to see it would be to look out a window.
The alien scout unit has reverse-jointed legs, no arms, and the guns are relatively hard to identify without giving it a good, long look-- it's mounted on the underchasis. A pair of guns, of some kind.
The scout unit takes up a position at the Alto-AN's flank, and holds there.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
The Dreisstrager looms over the entire situation, dwarfing literally everything on the scene.
The transport ship is not that big. It was large enough to carry a dozen mobile suits in its service life, with room for supplies, engines, propellant and ship's systems and quarters - not a ton of them, but enough that it's a fairly sizeable ship. In its new life it was an ideal cargo hauler, the former launch hatches in the sides of the hull perfect for offloading bulk stock.
Roux gets the first and closest look at the damage. The hull breach has been carved into one of those hatches and partway into the next one. Metal around the gap's edges curls inward, blackened and mottled with the aftereffects of carbon scoring, a sharp contrast to the generic off-white colour of the hull.
As Roux takes overwatch position, a few chunks of similarly off-white debris spiral past in her immediate vicinity. So does an irregularly-shaped hunk of metal of a different colour. More of an olive.
The Archangel casts out into the dark of space. The wreck is silent in response - but when the warship's sensors begin to collect data, peculiarities emerge. Minovsky particle traceries drift through the field, dispersed by the passage of time and de-energizing in the absence of active reactors, but there are obvious saturations: A series of contrails leading towards the ship from a section of space occupied only by a few larger chunks of debris, terminating in a mess of particles around the hull breach, and another tracing off into the depths of space. Off towards the distant asteroid fragment.
Anita captures the name on the hull clearly enough, beaming the information back to the command ship. Mayvy's Alto joins her, sensors working.
A piece of debris goes floating past Mayvy's camera. It is not metal. It's a human body - not normal-suited, sickeningly bloated from vacuum exposure. Someone presumably blown out into space by the attack. Most of the remains her sensors can pick up are like that - people in civilian coveralls and hats, not normal suits. People not expecting to fight for their lives.
Inside the hull, there's another flicker of sparks. A last source of power - an emergency reactor, maybe? Something still trying to work.
<Pose Tracker> Soji Murakumo has posed.
Soji Murakumo had a talk with Captain Greyvalley the other day, and now he needs to contribute.
"VangRay, deploying!"
Launching a bit after Mayvy, the VangRay is *fast*. It boosts its way through space, flying trivially through the environment. Unlike the ground, where it's wobbly, it controls like a breeze.
The VangRay closes up on the ship, looking through scanners for a safe entry point. If it finds one, Soji begins to disengage his cockpit, tethering from the VangRay to enter the ship inside his normal suit. The others can investigate the asteroid fragment - he can find logs or other information to determine what exactly happened here.
<Pose Tracker> Mayvy Hawkins has posed.
Mayvy does a brief burst of thrust upward to change her line-of-sight. Maybe she missed something...
"Hold on, I can do a lookup..." she replies to Anita's request. Her laptop has an uplink to the Dreisstrager's library. Latency's a bit high, since she hasn't connected her secondary antennae yet, but she keys in the search term, watches a rolling 'loading' screen for a few seconds, and...
"Right. Bundtbacher Logistics... they're a transport company based in Side 1, active in the shipbuilding sector... bulk transports and ship parts. Mostly contracted with companies on Luna and here around L1, supplying civvies with things like engine material... and some military, huh. Irish-cla--AUGH FUCK"
Startled, she reflexively yanks the Alto backward as the body drifts in front of her--and directly into a bulkhead section. A sickening scrape rings through the cockpit, and she checks the damage control display.
Sounding a bit high-strung, she reports, "I'm fine. Just... got startled. Body wasn't in a suit... must've been caught by surprise."
"I'm, uh. Let me move in. Search team members, I'm sending out an uplink request. The AN's an analysis unit, I can share its if you accept." She keys in a command on her laptop, connecting her sensors up to anyone who allows it.
<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.
Roux comes to a relative halt with the Z II's rifle out, watching. Feeling.
It does feel dead, Roux thinks. She bites her lip. Maybe someone... can she...? Or is she just trying to find patterns? We should search anyway, Roux thinks. Even if there's no survivors, then...
There's nothing I can do for them right now, Roux tells herself. Alive or dead, rescue squads need to do it. This isn't a crisis. With this she tears her eyes away from the wreck and towards the nearby metal. One of the pieces of debris stands out; the Z II adjusts position to move nearer, reaching out to grasp the olive-hued piece of metal and absorb its momentum. Evidence?
Seeing the other reports, Roux answers Anita. "It looks huge, if it did this in ne shot, that's for sure." (She clicks to private communication to ask Anita, suit-to-suit: "Are you holding up alright? I'm glad your VF's still in good shape, after that scrape.")
Roux sort of walks her scope over around space in case she sees an incoming alien scout unit or something, but unfortunately for Roux her position is such that the alien scout unit is exactly ten degrees out of the overwatch space she's monitoring. Roux doesn't check out the Alto-AN's area, either. Because what the Alto-AN transmits is just too sad.
"... If it's a cargo ship... there might not have been a large crew, and if it came abruptly, they might not have gotten into suits," Roux muses, with some sorrow in her voice. After this, Roux turns the Gundam's head to look at the piece of wreckage she'd caught, the piece of space-scrap looming enormous in the panoramic cockpit. Until--
"Just breathe deep if it was hard to see," Roux says in answer to Mayvy, gently. "Pop open your faceplate if you need to." Then, as if belatedly, at a unit moving independently, Marcenas'. "Hey, you were gunning it. If you're low on propellant we can get a tank drop or something, probably. Uh..." (Where did I hear his voice from, Roux thinks. I've met that guy.)
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
Riddhe gets no response\, which was...not unexpected. No response\, or any indication of what happened. Not much he can see\, and it appears someone else was here first. So less to investigate on that front. He's about to get closer to investigate...
"I'd appreciate that\," he radio's to Roux\, "I can dock with your ship once we're done here. I'm more interested in finding out why there are dead people right now\, with all due respect." And unlike what that phrase USUALLY MEANS\, he does mean it. He's more interested in what happened than his unit's fuel. Though...that voice is familar...?
And another MS rushes by him\, to get close enough to do that. "Hey\, who the hell..?" he asks\, likely to also be ignored. Riddhe\, sighs\, and uses his mobile suit to latch onto the hauler and double-check his normal suit. He grabs a rifle\, checks the light on it\, and opens the hatch so he can jump out.
His normal suit has some maneuvering thrusters on it to make sure he's not completely at the mercy of no gravity and moves to check less about the damage...that can be handled by others who are outside\, and the ships for data processing. There are enough people on overwatch that it'd likely be as safe as it could be out here.
He maneuvers towards the cargo itself\, trying to see what was left so that it could be checked with a manifest. Of course\, the OTHER thing to find here is a manifest. It might at least open up some possibilities on what was taken and why.
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
A comm channel opens abruptly on Mayvy's monitors. It is not front-and-center; its appearance can be missed for a moment, though it probably won't be by anyone jittery as 'any person who just ran into a body'.
"I had not thought you so clumsy based on our prior interactions. Are you enjoying your time on the Dreisstrager?" The King of the Earth asks.
<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.
A private communication! Anita adjusts the frequency.
"I'm doing alright, yeah. How about you?" Anita replies to Roux. "And, thanks... it took some TLC to get her back to fighting shape, though."
She pauses, then, as Mayvy responds to her request, listening intently... but winces, at that sudden interruption. Anita returns to normal communications.
"Are you alright?" Anita asks, concerned. A body, not in a suit... Anita grimaces sympathetically. "Ugh. I'm sorry you had to see that."
She does press a few buttons on her console after that to accept Mayvy's uplink request.
"A transport company though, huh... do you think they were after the cargo?" Anita considers. Fortunately, the tear in the hull is enough to get a robot through so she carefully maneuvers her way inside. Riddhe checks on the cargo... so Anita directs her attention toward that flickering of sparks.
"What's that...?" She murmurs, moving closer to investigate. "Guys, I think one of the reactors is still working. ...Just hope it's not about to explode or anything."
Might be a good reason to check up on it!
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
Small hands that have callused and earned hours off the bridge before getting here, place her cover between her knees while she runs fingers through her hair, before replacing the cap and straightening it. A long, intentional inhale and an equally controlled exhale, and Murrue Ramius, puts one foot in front of the other, "Let's begin."
The Archangel wasn't alone. Ra Mari and Dreisstrager appear to have been drawn by the same distress signal, though they launched and as yet, no one had launched from the Archangel. The wreckage seems covered, so Murrue moves the Archangel cautiously towards her possible discovery. Unprompted, Murrue begins a broadcast of her findings, hoping that if there had been any others, there might be a mutual exchange.
SENSORS
The officer working here, is trying to eliminate noise from the scans, and raise the fidelity of scans in the frequencies discovered heading off toward the asteroid. Also checking for blooms in the same range.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
The good news for Soji and Riddhe is that it's pretty easy to just fly in through the hull breach. It's more than large enough for a mobile suit. Failing that, the airlocks on the ship's side can be pried open; they were meant for mobile suits once, and getting through them isn't hard. Either way, the main access is to the ship's hold.
The sparks inside are coming from an emergency lighting system that keeps trying to flicker on steadily. When it does, it's obvious that the cargo is missing - mostly. Chunks of metal drift loosely through the hold, occasionally bouncing off a bulkhead, remnants mostly of cargo that got damaged in this blast or that. A couple of them are clearly bodies. In the dim emergency lighting, a few half-dead computer monitors wink on and off; Riddhe could navigate to one.
The nearest monitor is quite close to something rather more obvious: a Zaku Tank Construction Type. It's an old One Year War design commonly operated by civilians these days, this one painted workzone yellow and with a Bundtbacher logo stamped on its chest. It's only partly visible because the unit has had much of its left side carved through. A half-cauterized trench runs through its torso down into the cockpit.
The right crane arm, however, is intact. It's still holding part of an olive-drab mobile suit arm, broken off at the elbow. Whoever was behind the controls of the Zaku Tank tried to fight.
Roux, coincidentally, grabs ahold of the chunk of metal. It's a curvilinear piece with a crease through part of it and a large spike sticking out of it, cracked around the edges.
The Archangel's powerful sensors begin to make more sense of the particle traceries. Dispersed though they are, it would seem the battle wasn't that long ago - enough of the particle trails remain that their dispersal patterns can reveal secrets. More noticeable, however, is the back side of the chunk of asteroid.
Chunks of rubble drift around the asteroid's aft face. A few of them are still hot. They were blasted freshly.
<Pose Tracker> Mayvy Hawkins has posed.
May nods and pops the visor on her normal suit, taking a deep breath of the slightly-less-closed-system air in the cockpit. "Hhh. Right. Thanks," she murmurs. Her training at the academy didn't exactly prepare her for... this. She leans her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes a brief moment. "I hit some debris. No damage... ugh." She fights back sickness.
Just before she opens her eyes agian, a location ping appears on the display:
INCOMING COMM [UNKNOWN]
It's not the sort of thing the Alto-AN's set up to share automatically. She's startled, briefly, jolting silently in her seat, and--
Oh.
She knows that voice.
It's THIS asshole.
She keys over to his frequency. "Yeah, and you wouldn't be a little startled a goddamn vacuum-frozen corpse? Besides. I'm not usually the one in the cockpit."
"I'm enjoying it just fine," she answers tersely, her guard up, zooming her main camera in toward the source of the transmission while she moves in toward the hulk. "And what brings King Shit off of Fuck Mountain today?"
She pulls the camera back and turns the Alto's head forward as she slips in through the hull breach.
She keys back to general radio. "We're seeing signs of a battle here," she reports. "Residual I-field readings are pretty high for one damaged reactor... this was pretty recent."
The Alto thrusts floorward and engages magnets, snapping photos as she approaches the damaged Zaku Tank. She zooms on the severed arm. "... hey, get a load of this. Looks... a little Zeon-like, but the deco's weird. Like it's got a dress-uniform sleeve, I guess?"
<Pose Tracker> Soji Murakumo has posed.
Soji stayed in his mech, after deciding that the hull was enough based on scanners. Pushing forward, he scans the arm, and carefully tries to remove it from the Zaku's death grip.
<"There's been reports of Zeon remnants with sleeves like this. They must have been the aggressors."> His radio crackles through the interference. <"You inside, anything on the computers? Soji Murakumo, Dreisstrager.">
<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.
Roux sees the Delta maneuver. "Yeah, we or the Blue Giant here can do that," she answers -- Marcenas! Roux realizes. That's who it was! Play it cool, Roux, and she concludes her transmission with a very faintly silky, "Mr. Marcenas. I'm impressed you came here so quickly. -- Oh! Be careful! A wreck's no joke!" she continues, less silky-y, when she sees him get out of the suit with a thruster wing and everything.
"It got me a four-day leave at the anchorage, so that was nice," Roux answers Anita. She doesn't get chattier than that. Blinking, she does say in reply to the rest of Anita's questions, "That could be. But pirates... usually pirates would at least try to board or something. Unless there was a standoff and the officer on deck called them on it."
So much for THAT guy's career, Roux thinks morbidly.
"I've secured debris," Roux reports. "This color and the spike... it's beat up, but I think it's from a Zaku... hold on." Holding it up, the Z II's computer images it several times, prompts Roux to wiggle it a little, and then gives her a report she reads off with her mouth because Anaheim Electronics loves to do that in their software: "A Zaku III. God! I remember these things. They must have gotten popped like a - like a month-old spikeonut or something."
Roux frowns when Mayvy mentions a fancy dress arm garment - a Sleeve, if you will. "... Did they... get hit by a third party or something?" Roux echoes, after Mayvy's statement.
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
It's dark, but thankfully Riddhe came with a rifle with a light on it. He can use that to help lead the way. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any setup for an ambush, which means ship teleport bullshit event won't trigger...probably. Well, they're not near a solar flare storm or an electromagnetic storm so the teleport ambush is less likely to happen anyway.
The Cargo was just gone, and that's bad. It means anything that was here would entirely need to be above board and listed in the manifest. Which...could be likely, but let's cross that bridge when they come to it. The arm caught in the civilian Zaku was not unnoticed, but he was more focused on the computer panel first.
Riddhe, at the very least, starts securing bodies so that they can be collected later. It's bad enough to die out here...but it'd be worse if they couldn't even get home. He says a small prayer for them, before finally heading to the computer. This is probably worse than his worst guess by far.
Over coms, he speaks. A bit crackly, but enough to be heard. "Investigative forces, this is Ensign Marcenas. I have a read-out of the cargo manifest," he breathes out, you can tell from his voice it's not good. "It was for the parts related to the construction of the new Federation Irish-Class Ship in Von Braun. Whoever did this got their hands on a lot of capital ship components."
Riddhe moves to insert a data object in to download the data so he can return it to the others later to help with the investigation. "Any idea on that arm?" he asks Souji.
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
Roux, that was it...that fearsome feeling he felt from her during that meeting. A shudder goes down his spine, but he responds. "Ensign, Ma'am." he politely corrects. "Thank you I will be careful. Please watch my back."
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
"That does not fall into the category of things that would startle me, no," The King of Earth agrees. There is a sense that he's smiling. He is asked what brings him here, and there's a momentary pause.
"I think," he decides, "that there is no purpose in my being more open than you are."
The alien mobile weapon turns, apparently surveying Soji's VangRay for a small while.
In his cockpit, the King drags a hand through the air. A moment later the DREISSTRAGER begins to be hailed.
<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.
"Not bad, not bad at all." Anita replies to Roux with a whistle as she mentions the four-day leave. But, back to business!
An emergency lighting system! Great, that's very helpful. It lets Anita see everything much more clearly - and, most notably the Zaku Tank holding a severed mobile weapon arm.
Anita frowns, manuevering closer to get a better look. The sleeve-like decoration is called out, and Anita frowns.
"...Yeah. Yeah, I recognize this one - this is the same design those Zeon remnants we've been fighting have been using. I'd bet it's the same guys." Anita confirms, then picks up her Haro and points it at the arm. "Alright, pal, give me some good shots of this, alright?"
Her Haro takes several pictures of the sleeve-like design, which are then sent over to the Archangel, the Dreisstrager, and the Ra Mari for double-checking.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuba Greyvalley has posed.
Mitsuba is doing literally nothing except sitting and watching for the investigation that is just a hair small for the Dreisstrager's gigantic ass. When she's hailed, she opens comms in short order.
"Yes?" she asks, since she has nothing super identifying just yet to respond to -- this could be anyone and anything, honestly.
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
"Good day, Captain," says the King of the Earth. He sounds rather delighted that the person to 'pick up' was the one he was looking after this time. "It is an interesting ensemble that has been arranged here. It is unfortunate that it is not yet time for the next experiment to take place."
"Your science officer is rather jumpy," he remarks, benignly.
Then, he asks, "Suppose that I was going to select one of the other carriers here for future experimentation purposes. Which would you recommend?"
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
It sure is that asshole.
If nothing else, it doesn't seem like that asshole orchestrated this; the chunk of arm Mayvy can see looks entirely like something a conventional mobile suit would have, not a weird alien thing.
The Zaku Tank, for its part, was never meant for battle, but at close range Mayvy can see it's taken a few hits. The only thing keeping it from floating is that its far crane arm is wedged into a gouge in the bulkheads. The machine shows carbon scoring from several beam hits around its shoulders and treads, aside from the massive cut in its torso. The machine must've acquitted itself as best it could before going down.
Riddhe, Anita and Soji get the closest look at the arm. It was torn off at the elbow, likely ripped off its joint structure. The Zaku Tank's claw has clamped down on the limb hard enough to crumple the armour straight down to the frame. The sleeve cuff confirms a few other suspicions: The white enameling on the cuff traces out the distinctive geometric wings typical of certain Zeonic military styles.
Securing the bodies takes some doing; only a couple are floating around inside the hold, which gives Riddhe a place to start. The first one is the body of an older man in civilian coveralls who apparently died of vacuum exposure.
The second body he finds is not. It's a younger man in a normal suit who appears to have been shot several times.
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
The man NOT in a normal suit was odder than anything...but it is more telling of what happened. Getting into a normal suit while being under attack would be standard operation...unless they were attacked so fast that they didn't even have a chance to get into their suit. It could also mean that it was a betrayal...but there is no reason to suspect that.
Riddhe sighs, he knows better, he can't just assume it without evidence. It is much more likely they were set on, especially if this was an operation for capital ship arts. Securing the body, he moves to get the second...in a normal suit. However, something catches his eye. A helmet with a red visor..?
Riddhe immediately jumps, expecting something to be ready to shoot him for learning this, but nothing does. Those sensitive to emotion might sense both surprise and anger for a brief second, before turning to a wave of more dull anger. Breathes, Riddhe...this is important. Wait no...something is off. That anger fades to confusion and then curiosity.
He takes a picture with his equipment. He secures the body first and pulls out a tablet connected to his equipment. This allows him to clear up the image first, and then focus it on the helmet. The logo is too curved...more oval than circular.
"Uploading data, if anyone wants to take a look at this. I think it's a vital clue," Riddhe says over the radio. This is available to anyone who wants to focus on this detail. Ship crew or data experts. Riddhe goes back to work. His mind reeled at what could be going on here. If they're trying to set up Neo Zeon...then that opens up the possibilities of who it COULD be.
Including corrupt officials...the thought causes Riddhe's blood to boil.
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
"Ensign Marcenas. I did, the manifests were related to a capital ship. I uploaded a picture in regards to one of the combatants. We got ourselves a deeper mystery than I expected it to be.."
<Pose Tracker> Mayvy Hawkins has posed.
A chuckle leaves Mayvy's lips. "So they're all like this. Sleeves."
She keys in a search of her own for the Zaku III, and is prompted by another loading screen. Minovsky interference sucks, dude.
While she waits, she makes a thoughtful sound. "I dunno. This tank put up a hell of a fight." The Alto gestures toward the tank's other crane-arm, and the level of damage. "Pretty impressive for a civvie Zaku-I on treads..."
Ping! "Lemme see... yep, that tracks! Zaku III Late Type, it looks like. Wonder if we got lucky enough for some part serials," she speculates.
"--oh. That's..." The Alto turns to look at Riddhe. "... These assholes are building a capital ship?"
May rolls her eyes at Caruleum and swaps to his band. "Well, excuse *me* for being guarded about the guy who scrambled all our hangars just for the hell of it, then made me run over some Haros," she grumbles, then keys back to public.
She feeds more power to her radome antenna as she receives Riddhe's photo, helping send it out over the band to the rest a bit faster. "Mmm. This emblem's a little... I dunno, looks kinda bootleg? Gimme a few minutes, I'm gonna run this through the Dreisstrager's database."
Meanwhile, she moves to help Riddhe gather bodies, until...
Ping! #2
May grunts in frustration. "Match confidence's low since it went through pretty low-quality, but... best match is Mars Zeon? Can someone else confirm?"
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuba Greyvalley has posed.
"At least you greeted us this time," Mitsuba says, her tone more than a little sharp. She adds, after a moment, "She's only recently been in a position to be part of the flight wing. That's normal. It takes people time to suit their responsibilities." She hasn't been given something specific to dress the King of the Earth down for, but the urge is literally always present.
She's asked a question, and she knows full well that Caruleum doesn't take non-answers with any kind of grace. "The Ra Mari has a diversity of perspectives comparable to the Dreisstrager's despite its smaller size," she answers. This seems to activate the part of her brain that thinks Caruleum has a real etiquette problem and needs terms dictated. "If you're going to pay them a visit, however, I expect you to hail ahead of time and not tamper with the vessel's internal systems or flight readiness. *Engage them politely.*" Her tone does not brook even a little disagreement, and indeed, she punctuates with a, "This is NOT a request."
She receives a data upload, and looks at it. It doesn't take her long to identify it -- she's been looking at Mars Zeon units to forward known data on them to Mayvy for simulator-building, anyway. "I'm seeing what you're seeing, Mayvy," she confirms, instead of giving the King of Earth more of her time.
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
Back on her ship, Eight is very quiet. She stares into space for a few moments on her patrol, as she hears the chatter from within, announcing... Mars Zeon.
"..."
She doesn't give any sign of reaction, or transmit anything back.
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
TELEMETRY
"Captain, I've been able to isolate three sources of emission away from the wreckage. Two trails and one large bloom, all are fading quickly."
"Thank you Ensign. I want you to lock in those frequencies, enter them into the library as Nancy Zed one through three. Comms."
"Yes Captain!"
"Open Comms" *chimesound* "This is Captain Ramius, calling the Ra Mari and Dreisstreger. I am pursuing leads and believe this is a still developing situation. According to our library, the iconography discovered is Mars Zeon as well. Please maintain an open channel with me. I am sending you information from our scans." With a nod to the Telemetry station to begin sending the intel, Murrue turns to the helm, and puts a hand on the Helmsman's shoulder, "Ahead slow. Tactical, raise the barrier. Everyone, Alert Condition 2."
<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.
Do I outrank him? Roux thinks as Riddhe replies with his rank. "Got it," she answers, while trying to decide. I have flight line authority but am I at Ensign or Flight Lieutenant grade? Even so, he's not going to be an ensign for long with that kind of hustle. "If anything gets in my vector, I'm going to pop it, Ensign. Don't you worry."
Roux flinches when the data feed coming from Riddhe gets mirrored in the Z-II's cockpit heads up. She makes herself look.
"... Wait, his helmet was sealed. Are those fragmentation injuries, Ensign? If the suit's still on he might--"
Before Mayvy says something.
"This was carrying capital equipment? This is like that damn attack! Rosetta, Archangel, you were there for that. The one with the Red -- I mean, that Neo-Zeon guy claiming he's the sixth coming of Char Aznable!"
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
Riddhe takes a bit of extra time to focus on the suit itself and the injuries. "Ma'am, they appear to be bullet holes. I don't have a kit for powder testing," He says through the coms but updates a better photo for Roux's benefit.
<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.
Yeah, it's definitely the same guys... A slight frown crosses Anita's face. She makes a mental note to check up on Eight later - Rena too, maybe, if she can catch her.
"Huh, a recording? Yeah, let me see it too..." Anita replies, pressing a few buttons. She frowns as she watches it play out.
"...Yeah, I remember." She confirms with a frown as Roux brings up that attack. It's not a great sign.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
Riddhe's dead man has indeed been shot several times in the chest. What's more, he's wearing a tool belt and heavier gloves. Apparently not a pilot, but someone there to rapidly move things.
There's not that much more to discover inside the freighter at this point. The pattern of events seems clear: A unit of Zeon remnants, some of them from Mars, must have struck out of the blue, blown open the side of the freighter, overpowered the defending Zaku Tank and swiped the cargo, then gotten away. What's more unusual is that they did it *fast,* and without time for the freighter to broadcast more than a garbled SOS.
As the Archangel advances, Murrue and her crew will begin to find more pieces of the puzzle. The trail ends at the asteroid, to be sure - but it begins in the dark of space, where a few larger pieces of debris have drifted.
One of them does not seem to be from the freighter. It's a very large and roughly rectangular container of some sort, of an entirely different colour than the freighter hull - one that seems mostly intact.
The container is fairly large. A mobile suit could squeeze inside with a bit of effort.
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
The King of Earth mutes his line to the Dreisstrager to reply to Mayvy, "Are you suggesting that you would be more cooperative if I had simply approached silently with no prior history?"
Then he swaps over again to the Dreisstrager's feed.
This is a rather more leisurely conversation and Caruleum elects to enable the video feed for the moment. He reclines in a seat in the cockpit, though it is spacious enough around him to suggest many virtual interfaces and probably a gesture-based interface system.
"Ah, yes. You were dissatisfied with our prior engagement," The King says, his expression faltering a little. It's a small thing, borderline jubilation becoming a kind of confused amusement. He can be seen gesturing into the air as Mitsuba offers him information-- the Ra Mari is highlighted on the surrounding interface. It's only when the terms of his engagement start getting laid out to him that he stops doing interface things.
"I am hardly obligated to follow your instructions," he decides after a moment. "But I will put it under consideration."
"Although our positions are greatly inequal and our prior transaction is incomplete," The King of the Earth says, "that does not mean that you have done me no service. I believe fulfilling a small request would be in order. Shall we make your not-a-request into one?"
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuba Greyvalley has posed.
Mitsuba's frustration spikes into the ceiling. "You shall *not*. You shall treat my demand as a demand, and honor it in your interactions with the Ra Mari, or we will NEVER have a meaningful dialogue again." If Caruleum thinks they're 'interesting' and wants to mine them for opinions on the Earth Sphere, Mitsuba has no problem holding the thing he wants hostage to get basic decency out of him.
The mood on the bridge is... uneven and bizarre.
Lian -- the operator -- seems to be taking it fine and continuing to steadily do her job; indeed, she seems utterly, blandly unperturbed by the anger rolling off of Mitsuba in waves. Given their current task is to hold position, do monitoring, and sort through an enormous amount of valuable data, this is great for the field crew, who can be very sure their observations will be heard and acknowledged even while Mitsuba has yet another dialogue. Lian opens a comm channel to Murrue, and greets her with her sunny demeanor. "We have a 92% match for Mars Zeon in our systems as well, ma'am! Thank you for the additional data. Can we forward this to G-Hound, or would you rather keep this within the confines of the operation?" She sounds like she's operating a drive-thru, and in a practical sense, maybe she is.
Reynold, her XO, tells a different story; he's not the most expressive man in the world, or the easiest to read for an Awakened creature, but his expression suggests he's caught off guard. There is nothing he likes about this interaction or the way it's going. He's not saying damn thing number one.
"We are conducting an operation," Mitsuba says, after a few moments. Her tone has leveled off slightly. ... only slightly. "Do you have anything else?"
<Pose Tracker> Mayvy Hawkins has posed.
Mayvy stares forward for a long moment at her screen. Does--
Does Caruleum not know that there are more options than that??
Over to the private band again. "There are more options than that and 'scramble our hangars and walk in like you own the place'. And look. You don't. Because I'm the Grand Empress Most High of the Sol system!"
She pauses a sec, and leans forward despite nobody being able to hear her. "See? *I can do it too*."
All this has her a little bit preoccupied, and more than a little angry as she steps out of the wreck.
<Pose Tracker> Riddhe Marcenas has posed.
There isn't much more to turn up, but that's fine. Riddhe continues to help gather up the bodies as best as he can. A Zeon remnant, possibly part of Zeon Mars..? That would explain why the symbol doesn't match, though he's surprised it wasn't a Sleaves' job. Though Mars..? Mars is a long way off for this kind of operation.
Riddhe finally seats himself back into the Delta Plus and closes the hatch. He goes through with start-up operations and opens up a channel back to Roux. "I think I'm ready to take you up on that offer of refueling. Unless we have something out here to look into?" he asks, not sure what all of the other teams have been doing besides cover them.
Strangely, he sends a message over towards Mayvy, "You okay?" he says, picking up on...something. Frustration? Anger? The residual smug of the king of Earth? Who can say?
<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.
Roux grimaces at the clearer shot of the dead man. But then - "Wait, if he was *shot*... Then this must have been a boarding action, mustn't it? If they'd just popped the hull while they were on low alert... this man might have been in his suit, but he wouldn't still be in the cargo bay."
Her eyes flick towards the Dreisstrager, something weird coming to her mind there. She can't tell why. Something weird.
But back to the scene of the occasion. "I think you can refuel if you need it, Ensign," she answers Riddhe, "but I think that asteroid fragment's attracting stuff. Dreisstrager, do you want this Zaku III component or should we scan it on the Ra Mari?"
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
As the Archangel continues on it's heading, Murrue takes in the sudden glut of information. She evaluates her options, and weighs convenience, speed, safety. The freight container is a tempting target, and Murrue has been proven right before, when she has suspected that this group, this enemy lies in wait to ambush, setting bait in the trap. A profile and MO is developing, as is how far they are willing to go, and how desperate they are for what they need.
Murrue stands back up from leaning over the shoulder of the Tactical station she was hovering by, looking to the secondary monitor where the open channel was being displayed. "Please forward the information to your unit commanders. The MO and activity, seems to fit our frinds from Frontier 7. I'm afraid we're going to be seeing a lot of this kind of guerilla, pirate attacks. We won't be able to stop all of them, so we are going to have to, identify the ones carrying things they are after, like these Cap ship parts, and interdict where we can."
Quick fingers play across the input as Data and scans of the Freight carrier begins to stream to the allies. "We've discovered, this, I am scannning for explosives, and will not be bringing it aboard, it will need to be checked EVA. I am proceeding, alert condition two."
Murrue Ramius has paged you with, 'also like to check for EM or communication signals from the container, please'
<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.
"I think we've done everything we can in here." Anita comments, on the freighter. It looks that way, anyway - and they've already found a lot of good clues. She turns around and pilots her Variable Fighter out of the freighter and turns around, scanning the area to make sure they haven't missed anything.
...But, it seems like the Archangel might have tracked down something interesting. Anita nods as she receives Murrue's transmission.
"Gotcha... Lemme get over there real quick." She says. With another probably-unnecessary-flip the VF-25 reverts to Fighter Mode, quickly accelerating to catch up before returning to GERWALK.
"Just give me the go-ahead once that explosives report comes back, Captain." Anita replies, waiting for the signal. It looks like there might be just enough room to squeeze in - fortunately, her machine has a slimmer profile than most mobile suits.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
The Archangel will find no explosives aboard the giant floating block. But with a scan, what it is will become evident quickly: It's a cargo module, the kind of container typically carried by freighters dealing primarily in bulk cargoes like food. It can be physically detached from ships as needed. One could fit a large number of smaller containers in it - or four mobile suits, going by the dimensions.
Judging from the interior, once someone manages to root around inside, that's what someone did. The module's outer door hangs open, revealing sets of brackets welded in various places. There are two sets at mobile suit shoulder height on each wall - four in total.
Only two of them have matching ground brackets. Two of the mobile suits inside apparently had no feet.
The sequence of events seems clearer: A Zeon task force must have hid in a floating cargo container waiting for a ship to come by, then ambushed them from so close that the call for help went out entirely too late.
What remains is a question of logistics: How'd the Sleeves get the container there at all? It's not like those are serviced.
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
The King of the Earth raises his hand to his chin in an overtly thoughtful gesture. He's assessing Mitsuba herself for a long, long moment. Then, his gaze flicks to one side, and whatever he's putting together is disconnected from her altogether. He nods, more to himself than to the crew of the Dreisstrager, or even to Mitsuba.
His attention shifts back to the visual.
"If that is what you need," he says. "Then it shall be so."
A moment passes.
"But I believe that I have also offered you a little more, Mitsuba Grevalley. Are you declining?" He presses, lips curling back into a smile.
To the extent that it is useful, since he is a weird presence in a nonobvious scout mobile weapon, his feelings are rather more straightforward. The King of Earth is confident and in his element; he is concerned about something, but it isn't especially pronounced or self-directed.
It isn't until this exchange has concluded that he mutes and switches back to Mayvy.
"You," he says, his jovial demeanor re-asserting itself at once, "are the Castellan of a most wondrous castle."
"But does it need one?" The King of Earth wonders, closing the connection. It's not a malicious cut-off. He seems to have accomplished what he wanted to here.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuba Greyvalley has posed.
The strange mood over the bridge doesn't pass -- but it does attenuate. "I suppose you have," she says, leveling off. "What do you mean, 'our positions are unequal'? We're speaking commander to commander."
Lian glances back instead of fully hovering over the operations terminal like a hawk, though she does give Murrue an agreeable, "Of course, ma'am. We can provide escort until we're both at lower risk of pirate activity." There's no such thing as no risk, here. Then, to Mitsuba: "I think it'd be a good idea to get some more information on the King of Earth, ma'am."
Mitsuba nods to Lian. Then, to Caruleum: "I'd like to know your name, and the name of the organization you think negotiates with the Federation as a superior -- and how you see our prior transaction." Simple, direct. She's still aggravated, but much calmer.
<Pose Tracker> Caruleum Vaull has posed.
"I have been appointed the King of this planet," The King of the Earth says. "It goes without saying that our position would be unequal." He seems sincere about this, at least, or at least not lying in any meaningful way. That it isn't much more helpful than he's already been doesn't seem to occur to him.
Asked who he is more directly, Caruleum Vaull stands properly from his seat. He gestures to one side, and the mobile weapon begins to withdrawn. He inclines his head a little, "I am Caruleum Vaull of the Vaulluga, and a commander of the Quaestors. Or perhaps... Seekers? Would be a better word. I believe the name itself is self-explanatory."
He concludes, "Our prior transaction was the beginning of my first experiment here. It is half-unfinished owing to the disturbance I caused in your hangars. I will complete that experiment, and conduct several more before we are finished. I hope that you will find them enlightening and truthful."
Another dimensional distortion swallows up the scout unit and the transmission terminates.