2022-03-27: The Daring Escape of Murrue Ramius
- Log: The Daring Escape of Murrue Ramius
- Cast: Saraven Vai, Murrue Ramius
- Where: Captured Battleship Winish
- Date: March 27, 2022
- Summary: Murrue, smuggled aboard the captured ship Winish, makes good her escape from the Sleeves.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
The good ship Winish is no longer in Federation hands. She's under way with a crew of Zeons.
A crew plus one unlikely passenger.
Well clear of Luna by now, the Winish, escorted by a smaller Zeon cruiser and the damaged freighter Ontarian Lyra, has made her way into open space. Aboard, the buzz of activity is constant. Several of the Zeon infiltrators were injured in the combat, as were surviving members of the Federation skeleton crew; they've required medical care. The Federation officers number no more than six - not enough to overpower several dozen Zeons, including relief crew that transferred over from the freighter. But for Murrue Ramius, unlikely stowaway, there is an advantage.
The Sleeves don't particularly care about military discipline or recruiting standards. Procedures that are second nature to the Federation are relaxed among the rebels. Nobody has bothered to check who Murrue is, nor questioned why they don't recognize her. The Mars Zeon officers assume she's an Earth Zeon officer; the regular Earth Sleeves assume she's either a Martian or a mercenary. The mixed, low-formality force gives Murrue surprising freedom of movement.
----
On the ship's bridge, a Sleeves officer has taken the command chair, overseeing the steady bringing-online of the ship's vital systems. He's not alone.
The Lilac Gale of Zeon has no direct command role aboard a ship, but she's hanging near the back of the bridge, watching the proceedings with both eyes and mind. On one hand, it's a learning experience for her. She may have to learn to command a ship someday - and part of the bringing-up-to-speed process is a database search she wants results from.
On the other hand, there's something else. Something that's making this feel like less than the victory for her that it was.
...Why do I feel this strange sense of unfinished business...?
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
"OW!" *UNGH* Murrue grunts as she crashes back into the med bay sink.
"What the fuck are you doing, idiot?!" The irritated pilot glares at her, and at the injury she missed with her staple gun. "Do you know what the fuck you're doing or not?!"
Murrue gathers her items and shakes off her shock. SHock from seeing the young face of the Lilac Gale under the helmet. She glares back and storms over to the much bigger man, roughly grabbing his arm.
"Shut up you big baby, if you wouldn't complain and squirm so much you'd be done already. It's you're own stupid fault for moving, stop being such an earthnoid punk and let me finish or it'll get infected."
Now that she'd passed unnoticed long enough that she was able to get to the bridge to observe first hand, Murrue could worry about the other thing that had been running through her mind. She hadn't misheard, they were looking for it.
Laplace's Box...
There they were, digging through the database. Murrue waits for a busy moment with a group coming on to the bridge, to make her leave, but she takes a long look at the Lilac Gale, ignoring the man in the chair entirely.
Once in the corridor, she breathes, not realizing when she had started holding her breath. Her mind races with interconnected systems, and breaking down where they are to be found. A destination comes to mind, and with quickened determination, Murrue heads for the maintenance access two decks down, rear of the bridge, the relay repeater for signal redundancy.
No channel with that name or alias found.
No channel with that name or alias found.
+roll <INT dice>d<INT sides>[+/-<INT mod>]
Saraven Vai rolls 1d6: 2.
Murrue Ramius rolls 1d6: 3.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
The Lilac Gale can't be more than eighteen. Odder strange was the outward deadness of her expression. Startlingly neutral.
While the Sleeves are definitely aboard, most of them are sequestered at duty stations - clustered in operating rooms for key systems, working to crack every last aspect of the vessel. The corridors aren't that hard to navigate without being detected. Murrue can reach the maintenance hatch with little difficulty.
The challenge will be actually getting to those important systems. Murrue is able to descend through the catwalks, finding them undamaged - but the sound of voices can be heard the closer she comes to the relay.
"...sure they've recycled their comm codes?" comes one voice.
"Yeah," another man says. "We can't get into their network. Sucks."
"Damn." Murrue can get a look at two Zeon techs crouching over the repeater console. They're not armed, each carrying only a toolkit. "I mean, if nothing else it shouldn't take much to link up with our own network," one of the techs observes to the other.
5r"Yeah. Standard comm network."
"You want to get into the wiring?"
"Sure, sure."
----
Decks away, on the bridge, the Lilac Gale looks off to one side for a moment. There are white feathers drifting through her thoughts and she isn't sure why.
"...Captain," she murmurs as she steps up to the command chair. "Something's wrong."
The captain looks at her with a blink. "What is it?"
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
Teeth clench. Murrue was expecting to find access guarded but not to run into anyone at the terminals. This makes more sense but it could be a bigger problem. War and desperation seems to have brought the Engineer into espionage and acting.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
"Hey boys, was told to come down and see if I can't give a couple of techs a hand with a uh, network repeater console. Am I in the right place?"
A short pause then Murrue puts some boredom and impatience, "I sure hope so, look I don't want to, crawl around these space all day. If, you got things handled, fine by me I can just, sit here and chill. They just told me you might appreciate someone from the PLANTS coming down and giving a hand."
To emphasize her point she stretches her arms and repositions, kind of plopping herself down to sit back against the bulkhead. "I'm good right here, you boys, holler if you wanna chat or want some help ok?"
Saraven Vai rolls 1d6: 6.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
The two Zeon officers look back with a startled blink as someone else approaches. Murrue turning up was unexpected.
"Someone from the PLANTs?" asks one of them - the younger of the two, a dubiously-shaven man of no more than twenty, adjusting the red bandanna he's wearing along with his Zeon uniform. "I didn't realize we had--"
"We had a couple," the other officer notes, voice lower. "Pilot, too. Probably came with them."
"Ohhhhh," the younger man realizes, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Oh, you must've came with Pink, then. Okay. I think we've got this in hand but the system design's a little more modern than what I'm used to, right? We'll let you know if there's something that doesn't make sense."
The older man grunts and kneels by the console to open up a hatch at the base of it. "Been awhile since I've worked on something fresh off the line," he admits with a hunch of broad shoulders. The two have, at least, let their guard down.
----
On the bridge, the Lilac Gale is folding her arms across her midsection and looking away. "I'm not sure. I just... have a feeling. Like someone here that shouldn't be here."
"Other than the crew survivors, you mean? They're all accounted for," the captain surmises.
"I don't think so." The Lilac Gale closes her eyes a moment, trying to focus on the feeling.
...Why do I see white feathers...?
...Angel... no, Swan...? Why do I know this feeling...?
"...I can't tell who they are," she says, voice distant. "But we're in danger."
Alma_Stirner teleports out.
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
Murrue knows that the longer she waits the worse things could get. While she couldn't get to the console itself, she wasn't idle. The engineer had 'plopped' herself over a manual control for a valve for environmental systems. One that when improperly aligned, would cause the space to heat up over time, eventually to a point where sensitive systems in that space would short and fail. It would take days, and Murrue would be gone before then.
Now it was time to move. "Alright boys, I do think you have this in hand, I'm gonna go find some chow or something."
She waves goodbye and tosses a salute, before heading out. The ship was secure, there was no way to sabotage anything that would stop the ship, or destroy the database.
Murrue can't think of a way to keep them from the data.
But Murrue could get some data of her own. Her hand squeezes the bottle of peroxide in her pocket she had grabbed from the medbay. Now she moved towards the mobile suits.
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
For all that Murrue has a window to do what she needs to do, she's on borrowed time. The window could close at any moment - and when it does, she'll need to find some way to escape.
Murrue's manipulation of the valve goes entirely missed - the technicians don't know enough about the heating systems of an Irish-class ship to know what the captain is up to. They wish her well somewhat distractedly, and then she's ambling off.
It takes a couple of decks of descent to get to where the mobile suits are stored. The forward bay is locked down - it's where most of the commanders landed. But there are two runways at the rear, the upper of which is currently open.
There are four technicians in there. There are also three mobile suits - a pair of construction-use Gaza-As, used by the insertion team to take the ship, and a more combat-worthy one. A Gelgoog III painted in shades of deep blue. A higher-end Zeon mobile suit - one with its hatch open and its loadout still attached.
A couple of the technicians are working on that machine. Another is hunched over a computer terminal, tapping away and trying to pull some data.
----
A deck up, the bridge door has opened, and a pair of Zeon officers are stepping out, fully armed.
The Lilac Gale is just behind them. Thick eyebrows furrowed with focus, she tries to push her thoughts out to touch the feeling she's getting. Swan feathers drift through her consciousness.
"...It's one of them," she determines, blinking suddenly. "This feeling... I know it."
...I must have underestimated Londo Bell...
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
Taking stock of the situation Murrue quickly makes up a strategy out of the tools at hand. There is a sense of pressure building up her neck, different, creeping. It's unfamiliar and she is plenty eager to separate herself from it.
Murrue runs into the dressing room, her body relaxing a moment in relief as she spots a female pilots PLANT suit, which she quickly dons and readies. Completing the setup, she finds the matching helmet and heads out to the deck.
She comes up quietly, but not with the intent of scaring the poor man, placing an arm around the guy using the computer. A jovial greeting and she makes conversation, asking what he's up to, trying to make jokes about the victory that had been won.
Murrue pushes some authority and orders the man to interrupt his work, and check something inventory elsewhere. While he doesn't seem happy at the disruption, her joking friendly attitude seems to push him, and leave her to the terminal.
Murrue uses this moment, to download any information on the terminal about mobile suits and logs. She doesn't have time to go through them, just grab and go, and as soon as the transfer to her tablet device completes, she pulls her helmet on and secures it.
The hiss click of the air seal confirms suit readiness, and Murrue makes for the last run. A couple deep breaths.
"GO GO! LETS GO WE GOTTA LAUNCH! WE GOT A SPY! LETS GO!"
Murrue Ramius yells over the helmet's voice processor to the two techs on the Gelgoog III, waving arms and making things seem as urgent as possible. Back at the computer terminal, the bottle of peroxide mixes with the acetone and once they catalyze, the unstable mix detonates, exploding on the flight deck behind her adding to the sense of emergency.
Murrue continues on her way, dclimbing into the Gelgoog, situating herself in the cockpit and beginning launch, forgoing preflight, because she can barely remember preflight.
+-------------------------------[ Trevor Teach ]-------------------------------+
| Species: Coordinator | Gender: Male |
| Homeland: Vesta-4 | Pronouns: He/Him |
| Awakening: 3 +--------------------------------------|
| Primary Unit: JR-777 Isadore |
| Job: Treasure Hunter |
| BGM: |
+------------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Once an orphan adopted by the Vestan Vultures, a band of salvagers and |
| space pirates plying their trade in the shadows of Vesta-4 and its |
| neighboring asteroids, Trevor Teach quickly grew into a talented member of |
| the band of rogues. Trevor is a free-spirited, mischievous sort with a |
| distinctly piratical bent-- though he insists that he's actually a |
| professional treasure hunter and mercenary. It just so happens that |
| sometimes the treasure is located inside starships. Owing to the bounty on |
| his head, Trevor rarely remains in one place for long, but seems to have |
| recently taken up a combat contract with certain Zeon remnant forces. He |
| claims to fight for the freedom and well-being of his fellows in the |
| asteroid belt, but is there any truth to his words, or is he simply a |
| soldier of fortune seeking wealth by whatever means necessary...? |
+------------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Faction: Sleeves |
+------------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Origin: Original Character |
+------------------------------------------------------------------------------+
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
There are still Federation pilot suits folded neatly in the dressing room. A few Zeon ones are also laid out there. Murrue has her pick of the lot.
The technician is startled by the sudden appearance of a pilot, but soon gives way to her air of authority, in no mood to assert himself right now. The terminal is left unattended.
It will not take Murrue long to find a few things of value. The first is a listing of the Zeon mobile suits involved in the operation. About two-thirds of them are attached to Mars Zeon in some capacity, and at the top of the list are two units, with notes:
AMS-123XS Varguil -- VAI, Saraven -- Restore armor on skirt and shoulder. Recharge funnels. Liaise with Dr. METTA for regular maintenance on psycoframe systems.
JR-777 Isadore -- TEACH, Trevor -- See Trevor for maintenance specifics.
It is the first time a name has been put to the Lilac Gale's face. But the unit list isn't all there is. Zeon didn't have time to upload much, but there's a draft of a message to a technician.
* Prioritize the download of any info on Laplace's Box. This information is necessary to realize the full and immediate dismantling of the Earth Federation. -Dr. Metta
Murrue is able to gather it all quickly - and then shouts out. The pilots scramble, and Murrue finds herself behind the controls of a Gelgoog. A second later, the bottle explodes.
Technicians panic. One of them is thrown to the deck by the blast. All attention is focused towards the explosion. Murrue has a moment.
Across the ship, alarms wail to life. Bootheels clank on decking. Some are already moving.
The Lilac Gale has sprinted ahead of the guards. She knows where she's going now. Even through the frosted-glass haze of her ability to parse powerful emotions, she can feel it.
Just as Murrue begins to launch, the hangar door opens.
Saraven looks up at the Gelgoog immediately. The machine's monoeye camera can get a good long look at her, if Murrue chooses.
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
That chill again, but it weighs on her. Not a wave of pressure. Loss. Guilt.
The eye stares at Saraven, lingering just as Murrue did earlier.
A younger girl, with dark hair who looks like Murrue Ramius. First on a bright spring day, laughing and talking with a man much older than her. A man in a uniform. Her father.
ANother spring day. The color is gone as is the warmth. A different man is speaking but the words are unintelligible. Crying. A grave marker.
Saraven zoomed in on one of the displays.
Murrue pulls herself away and navigates around anyone, deliberately avoiding casualties. As she has the whole time. She shakes away thoughts of the children from Heliopolis that are her crew. Thoughts of her crew that died, and all the others that died the last time she fought them... fought HER.
She shakes her head hard and clenches her teeth shoving the thruster controls foward as she reaches the edge of the deck.
"FOCUS!"
Her eyes scan for pursuit, for fire, for anything. Her chest heaves as her heart pounds, how many moments pass.
"WHYYYYYYYYY?!" She screams... to, who?
<Pose Tracker> Saraven Vai has posed.
Two Zeon guards burst into the hangar a moment later, but they're too late. Saraven doesn't see them anyway. Even through the scratchy filter of her consciousness, she can feel the wave of emotions flooding from inside the Gelgoog.
...Something important was lost...
...Is this why they hate us...?
The hangar doors are inexplicably open, but a mag shield is in place. As these things go, it's no impediment to mobile suits. Murrue hurls herself into space with a boom. Behind her, a pilot can be seen scrambling towards a Gaza-A. A couple of turrets on the Winish pivot to try and track the Gelgoog, but the gunners are slow to fire up the unfamiliar systems.
There is another window. Time for Murrue to get away - to gain a lead.
Saraven stares after her a moment longer before closing her eyes, exhaling slowly. "...Let her go," she says quietly. "By the time we launch anything that can catch her, she'll be too far ahead."
<Pose Tracker> Murrue Ramius has posed.
The console trills notifying her the countdown had completed. Gloved fingers flip switches and toggle here and there. Some lights go off while others change color to signify status. Murrue slips out of the restraints and around the main console.
She takes off gloves and helmet, and pulls out a multitool from the pilots kit, before opening a panel and removing a circuit board. Disabling the IFF entirely so she isn't giving off a transponder for anyone.
She had calculated fuel and burn time for conservation and drift back towards Van Buren's nearest station outpost in this line, to be able to shut down to minimum systems and stretch out capabilities, just in case.
Modifications done, she replaced her gear and settled back into the pilots seat. even with low power mode she still had library systems, so Murrue pulls up the image of Saraven on the inactive display, while keeping optical scanners up.
Despite a nagging feeling someone is out there, nothing shows up on scans. Murrue pulls out her tablet, and backs it up on the Gelgoog III, while she begins reading through the material she had stolen. Idly, she humms a song her father used to sing her.