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The Salvage of Raytheon


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#1
S31-Zero-Order

S31-Zero-Order

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As we enter the cloud, our sensors die as expected. Relying on external cameras and guidance estimates, we approach the last reported coordinates of the APR - Chrome, a scout corvette that disappeared three weeks ago. Previously, from what I recieved in our mission briefing, the ship had found something, then mysteriously vanished. Nobody knows what they found. The transmission from the probe that had sent the information was badly botched, so very little was actually understandable.

Sure enough, as we approached the coordinates provided, the ship appeared within the thick blue mist on our external cameras. A second object was parked beside it. As Ender moved the ship closer to it, I could see that it was a mobile probe. Probably the one that sent the transmission. Its running lights were off on each antenna, showing that it was deactivated. "Scan that probe. I want to see if it's ours. Doesn't look like one," I say as I observe from my chair. I press a button on the right armrest of my chair and lean over into the small console. "Major Monroe, please report to the bridge," I command. I want to find out what I can about this probe. It might tell us what happened if it has any information at all.

Mobile probes are simple, unmanned vessels. They're small, fast, and don't emit enough of a signal to detect from long ranges, making them useful in determining what it is that we might be up against in a potentially hostile situation. The probes themselves consist of two parts and are almost one big engine with a set of maneuvering thrusters. The first section of the probe houses their powerful sensors and transmitters. The second section houses its data core, used for pre-programmed commands and subroutines and recent data storage. The rest of the ship is a single, large engine with the outer hull being covered in antennae with a few running lights. In the event that a probe is ever caught and captured, its theives are only able to get but a few of the past hours of data the probe gathered. The probes themselves are difficult to catch. If an enemy vessel is detected and is moving closer, it will attempt to evade it to keep from being detected. The onboard AI will guide it on the best projected path of escape. If the probe passes within short-range sensor range, it deactivates all power to the transmitter and advanced sensors package, allowing it to travel at a speed of 1,000 meters per second, slightly faster than current cruise engines. They're quite complex and advanced in what they do, but, obviously, they can only do so much. Recon crews are still needed for serveying and investigated certain situations -- like the one we're in currently.

As we recieved the data from our scans of the probe, Major Monroe stepped onto the bridge, and began skimming over the information. Most of it was simple technical data, but as he saw the serial number of the vessel, he paused, then looked over at me. "This probe's one of ours, but it's outdated. The serial number here," he says as he points to it. "Px-10294-JK -- that's no longer in service. The Px-JK series was decommissioned during the DA campaign for a better model. This one generated a louder signal as it transmitted. Ships were picking up on them too easily." "Why is it all the way out here?" I ask. "Decomm'ed ships don't order themselves around. Where was it sent to after its retirement?" "No idea. You know as much as I do about this thing now. From what I can see here, it made one final transmission a few days ago, probably the one that brought us out here," he replies. "I'll see if I can find out where it came from," Tila says as she works at her console. "Leave that to me while you figure out what happened to the ship."

Ender nods in acknowledgement at his controls, then scans the Chrome. From the information we were recieving, the ship was derelict. No life signs were detected, just as I'd feared. There was no damage to the structural integrity of the ship. All systems and equipment was intact. There was something, however, in the cargo hold. Because of the materials we use in construction of our ships, cargo bay inventories are protected from scans. The materials absorb the energy and signal of the scan itself, only letting the scanner know that there's something in there, not telling it what it contains. "Get us into docking position. We'll use a boarding pod to get aboard." "Aye-aye, sir!" Ender says as he moves the Lightrider into position. With that, I nod to Monroe. "Stay frosty out there, Commander!" Ender says as we leave the bridge.

Gonzales and Linx meet us in the armory as we grab our things. I grab my survival suit's helmet and assault rifle. Monroe and the others get into a single-file line and take turns at an armor pod. Monroe steps in first and the doors close behind him as he turns around to face them. He is locked in place by the pod and a thin layer of light can be seen in the divide between the doors. When the doors open, he steps out in light space armor, the same kind Tila used in our simulation. He grabs a helmet and a weapon from his locker and sits on a bench in the middle of the room. Lynx steps out in a set of medium armor with a metal medical pack attached to his back. Gonzales steps out in heavy armor with a basilisk cannon for a weapon. Before he grabs a helmet, he turns to Lynx. "Got anything for the worst hangover in the galaxy? I've got a headache that could kill a claaxon..." He was still somewhat pale. Vomiting all night from too much booze will do that to you, I suppose. Lynx smiles, then reaches into a pouch on his belt. He holds a closed fist above Gonzales' hand, then opens it. Nothing falls out. "My remedy to that is called 'walking it off' and 'learning your limits'," he says. "Ugh..." he says as he puts a metal glove to his forehead. "I didn't even know I'd volunteered for this until this morning..." I shook my head and laughed. We each headed for our waiting boarding pod, locked ourselves in its seats and launched for the corvette.

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In defensione et fraternitatem Elohim...


#2
S31-Zero-Order

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The boarding pod carefully made its way to the exterior of the corvette. We latched on to the hull of the ship and the doors on the pod slid open to reveal the space dock personel hull door. We stand and put our helmets on. The pod then slowly removes the atmosphere from our crew chamber to match the atmosphere in the corvette. In this case, there was none, and opening the doors now would quickly decompress our pod and suck us into the ship. Not a good idea for boarding...

Monroe stands and moves to the hull door. He places his hand on a sleek metal panel with black lines running across it and the panel slides to the side to reveal the control panel for the door. The control board was still lit, so the ship did have minimal power, but the control AI was probably doing what it could to conserve as much power as possible. With no life signs aboard, it's not a shock that there wouldn't be an atmosphere. Life support would be deemed non-essential and deactivate.

He punches in a master code that causes the exterior door to slowly slide open. Linx jumped with a small squeek and slid to the back of the pod. We were staring death in the face. It was one of the crew of the Chrome. His eyes were glazed over and a grimace of pain was permenantly etched onto his face. He floated freely with the life support offline and massive holes lined his back in a random pattern, revealing the back side of his bare ribs and spine. "Dear God, what could have done this?" Monroe asks as he reluctantly and carefully pulls him in. Blood had been pouring from this fellow's wounds for some time and had crystalized with the lack of oxygen and the frozen water. "Have you seen anything like this?" I ask Linx. He was still almost wimpering in the back. "Nope. Nah-ah. Haven't seen it. Can we go back now? I don't think it's important what caused it." "Get a hold of yourself. I don't need you incapable of doing your job. Whatever did this could still be on the ship and I need to make sure you're gonna keep us alive if we run into it. You copy?" This was not the time for Linx to cry like a little girl. He can go the hell back to Basic if that's how he's going to be, as far as I'm concerned. I turn back to the door. "Let's continue," I say as I take the first step through. "I copy, I copy," Linx replies as he steps in. The lights flickered for a moment as the ship AI detected our presence, but quickly died from the lack of available power. The ship's main reactor was offline. The rest of the ship didn't look any better than what we'd found from the second or two of light. Another horror show. It was best the lights were off, I think. Well, for Linx's sake anyway. I don't think she saw anything with me in the way.

As the rest file though, we're left with two options in direction within the main hall. We decide to go right, toward the lift to the cargo hold. We pass by the medical room on our way down the hall. The light above the door glows red, signalling that there's a patient currently under care from the ship's doctor. Curious, I press my hand against the door controls and the door slides open. There, in front of us, the flashlights on my helmet illuminated the doctor as he was sitting on the floor. The same holes were blown in his chest and a pistol floated freely in front of him. Scorch marks and dents blanket the wall behind him. Explosive rounds. Not many things use those within a ship, especially if it's there to capture whatever's around. The rounds might cause a hole or hit a window or something and decompress everything.

Next to him was a medical tank. With my flashlight shining on it, it looks like someone was still inside. A woman. From the symbol on her skintight patient uniform, she was an engineer. Whatever wounds she had earlier were no longer present. She wasn't wearing an oxygen mask either. In these tanks, the fluid within serves multiple purposes. When ingested, it provides essential nutrients and hydration. When inhaled, it diffuses oxygen and needed atmospheric components into the bloodstream. When it comes in contact with bare flesh or diseases, it causes rapid regeneration and serves as an incredibly effective antibiotic and anti-viral remedy. "Well, this one's definitely gone, but let me check this one," Linx says as he walks to the tank's controls in his magnetic boots. "These tanks can usually ration their own resources. People can survive in these things for months. At max a year." He activates the controls and a readout appears of the crewman. "We've got a survivor!" he says with excitement. "She was placed in here for a blow to the head and severe lacerations. Something about an accident in the engine room. She was knocked against the wall and got cut up by shrapnel. The metal's gone, but so is her arm. It's now a metal prosthetic. Unfortunately, these tanks can't grow back limbs." "We don't have a space suit for her yet. Until we can get life support active and power restored, she's going to need to wait in there for a while longer," I say. We need her alive to find out what happened here. At least our coming here wasn't for finding a total loss of life and whatever they picked up. We turn around and start to head to the cargo hold.

The elevator door was sealed shut and locked in place. The lack of power was preventing it from opening. There wasn't enough power to operate the lift and its door. "Let's get to the bridge. Maybe we can find a way to get this open," I command. We turn about and wade through more dead crewman, frozen in time and floating in zero gravity.

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#3
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As we make our way to the bridge, I can't help but wonder what caused all this to happen. I can't say that I've seen wounds like these before, but the blast marks look familiar. They are fist-sized craters in the wall, mixed with scorch marks. There's no metal leftovers from a normal explosive shell. Either someone cleaned up their mess really, really well, or there's some new weapon I'm not privy to. But if they cleaned up after explosive shells, why leave the ship here? Why leave the crew? Why leave a survivor? The assassin would have checked the ship from top to bottom. "Lightrider, this is Scout Team. Do you read?" I call. "Scout Team, this is Lightrider. What is your situation? Is everything okay?" Tila was fairly calm about the investigation. I'm sure she had some questions of her own for it, but I'll have to brief her when we leave this thing. "Well, not exactly. We've found the crew. We've got only one survivor. All the others are dead. They were blasted apart by God-knows-what. We're still investigating right now. Making our way to the bridge. Any information as to where that probe came from?" Silence ensued over the other end as I could hear her typing away. "...Confirmed. Px-JK probes were decommissioned and sent to Sigma-13 in the wreckage fields. It's the closest location apart from the Graveyard and New London. This ship must have come from or through Sigma-13 in order to reach one." "Roger that. We'll see if we can find the ship's logs. That should explain it," I reply. "Acknowledged, Scout Team. Lightrider out."

With that, we continue our mission and move toward the bridge. The bodies of the crew were still floating in our way. Each had the same wounds as the other. With a full crew getting slaughtered like this, they must have been preoccupied by something to be able to mount an effective defense against their attacker -- whatever that could have been. We finally reach the bridge after gently nudging the bodies of our comrades out of the way. I can't quite get over the eerie look they gave as they floated past. Each had the same expression of terror mixed with extreme pain frozen on their contorted faces. Although I had to continuously fight down the fear after seeing such a sight, I wouldn't break like Lynx.

We reach the bridge on the other side of the ship and Monroe stumbles upon the control consoles for the ship and carefully pushes the captain from his seat. Lynx moves in close to study him. "This one died of his wounds, but wasn't killed in his chair. See his face? It's not fixed in place like the others. Too peaceful. He bled out after sitting here," he says after moving his hand to reveal a blast to the chest. As Monroe watches and presses a few buttons, the lights stutter back online and the ship groans to life as the systems reactivate. With the lights on and life support reactivated, everything falls to the floor with sickening thuds. There was blood everywhere down the hall, all the way to the bridge. I smear leading to the captain's position marked the point where he crawled across the floor to sit in his final resting place. Whatever was here earlier wasn't looking to take anything. It was specifically looking to kill everyone aboard. Something it almost succeeded at.

"Lightrider, this is Scout Team. We think we've reactivated the ship. Please confirm from your position," I say. "Confirmed. The Chrome's running lights have been reactivated. All systems seem to be intact, confirm on your end, Scout Team." "Roger that. Monroe, run diagnostics on the ship. Make sure this thing is safe for use." "You got it. Let me just press a few of these..." he mumbles as he presses a few holographic controls that have reactivated. Spaztically, the ship begins to flip through the crew status, the status and repair diagnostics, screeching as it marks the entire crew as deceased with the exception of our survivor. "WARNING: INTRUDER ALERT! SHIP IS NOW ON LOCKDOWN! ALL PERSONEL, REPORT TO YOUR DESIGNATED DEFENSE POINTS!"

The lights suddenly went red and alarms began blaring through the ship. "What the hell is this?!" Gonzales yells over the alarms. "No idea! Get your weapons ready. Shields up ladies!" I reply. As we all turn to face the hall, we each take up positions as the bridge's lockdown blast door begins to slide shut. About halfway through its process, the door jams, sending sparks flying everywhere. The viewscreen behind me begins to play a video file. I turn to see the captain, sitting in his chair and bleeding badly. "This is Captain Matthew DeVrey of the APR - Chrome. This message is for any APOC who can hear it. We have come under attack by an alien invader. It has infiltrated the ship and slaughtered most everyone. I have managed to seal the door behind me as you can see, but it won't last long. That being said, one of my best officers managed to slip by the thing and lure it into the cargo bay along with our findings. I have sealed him in there with it and we both know he won't survive. It's some kind of robot. It's got purple eyes and some kind of energy cannon on one of its arms. If you get this message, then at least I did something right... we managed to attract an old broadcast probe to remotely follow our ship after passing through Sigma 13. It can't stay active for long after broadcasting this message a few times. It's been decomm'd for too long and the power supply's leaking fuel. We found a derelict ship on one of our patrols that we didn't recognize from our computers. After raking in what we could, we found something in the ship's log called a "tunnel drive." The vessel had one mounted, so we tried to fix it to our ship. The combination worked for the most part, but it caused an overload in the ship's engines and knocked 'em offline. Sent one of my engineers to the med bay. Lost her arm to the explosion." He gasps frantically for a few seconds, then continues. "We haven't been able to use the tunnel drive yet. That mech came from the debris. It was offline inside the wreckage, then activated when we hooked everything up. Came out of hibernation or something. I've never seen anything like it... I'm going to deactivate this ship and hide it here in Raytheon. Life support included. If you are of the Brotherhood, then my plan succeeded and you now have what we hoped to save... I can't hold out much longer... Tell my wife..." A scratching could be heard in the ceiling and he stops to look up. Suddenly, the vent opens and something drops into his lap. "Tell her I love her!" he screams. The object was flat with a purple-ish skin. Something I was quite familiar with and hated with everything I am. Something that I was created to destroy. A Nomad. It tries to grab onto his head as he resists, screaming as he pulls it away. "Computer, cut transmission!" he cries and the video ends.

"I have failed," I mumble to myself in horror. I drop to my knees and pull Captain DeVrey's body towards me. Carefully, I unbutton his uniform's shirt, grab his tags and remove them. I stare at them for a moment, then look over at the other three in the squad. They were looking back at me, waiting for orders I guess. "This one died because of me... This one died because I failed to complete my mission. The Nomads are still out there and I have no way of knowing how many there are." I place the tags carefully beneath my armor in my uniform's pocket. "All of these were killed by Nomads." "Commander, this isn't your fault. You had no way of knowing what was out here or even if there were still Nomads alive after the campaign. There was nothing that you could have done to save them," Gonzales says. It was something that I wasn't expecting from him. He never seemed like someone who would care about much more than completing his assigned mission. "He's right. Let's wrap this up, Commander. We have to make sure that their deaths don't go in vain," Linx says. He must've finally grown a pair. He was much more focused on completing the mission. I guess he just needed the right motivation...

A screeching could be heard down the hallway and we each turned to see the lift activating. However, we didn't activate it. Inside the lift, I could see three purple lights glowing from the grating on the doors. "We've got company!" I cry, raising my rifle with the others. "Right! Strength in unity, Brothers!" Gonzales says as he loads his Basilisk's ammo feed. The door slides open and the mech begins to step through. A large black rifle was held on one arm and, as it assessed its new targets, began to glow a bright purple.

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In defensione et fraternitatem Elohim...