Semper Vulneratus
Posted on Fri Apr 15th, 2016 @ 8:25pm by 2nd Lieutenant Scooter Porkinsky
Edited on on Fri Apr 15th, 2016 @ 8:29pm
Mission:
Brave New World
Location: Open Space, Archa Sector
Timeline: Beta Patrol Shift
[ON]
Lt. Porkinsky radioed, "Base, I found another floater. Weak transponder beacon... no distress beacon. Boy, is it trashed!"
=/Red Six, any signs of life?\=
"That's affirm, Base. Reading's aren't clear, but I'm certain there's at least one survivor."
=/Make the call. What do we dispatch? Will a Type Eleven do it?\=
"Let me board it and take a look."
=/Porkinsky, you know better than to leave your Razor.\=
He muttered, "I'd love nothing better than to leave this piece of junk."
=/I'm sorry, Red Six, we didn't quite read you.\=
"If you want to make another wasted trip, then by all means. Otherwise, let me lock up shop and take a looksie. If I don't check in every thirty, then send backup. Deal?"
=/Roger, Red Six. We'll wait on you.\=
Porkinsky activated onboard security systems, sealed his flight suit, then opened his canopy. He pushed through the ablative atmospheric containment field and floated away from his cockpit. With a press of his wristbook symbols, the fighter closed and locked canopy.
With a few quick thrusts, he glided into the boarding portal of the small merchant ship. Power controls were fried, so he hammer-fisted open the manual actuators. After confirming that the inner door of the airlock was closed, he vented the lock and entered. "Radiation... low. Energy readings... nominal. Atmospheric pressure... present. Air quality... pathetic. We'll just keep the old breather blowing fresh air."
He closed the outer door and then opened the inner. First survey of the surroundings looked like a raging gun battle. Closer inspection revealed however, patchwork repairs and repairs of repairs. "This place is a trash heap!" He turned on his loudspeaker, "ANYBODY HERE? FEDERATION! PERMISSION TO COME ABOARD?"
A voice called out from direction of the bridge, "Woohoo! YES! Come in! Come in! Permission granted!" An exceedingly scruffy man wearing a klugework of fatigues bounded through the low gravity into view.
Porkinsky stared in disbelief, "How long have you been out here?"
"Ohhh, let me think. A Sojourner attack shuttle boarded me. I saw their fleet on their way to three-thirty-two."
"That was a month ago!"
"Yes, that seems about right. Come in! Come in!" He enthusiastically led his guest onto the bridge. "Would you like some coffee? I still have coffee!"
"Yes." Porkinsky then spotted the coffee maker, "No, actually."
The man rubbed his hands together, "A little cold in here... Sorry. Conserving battery power, survival procedure and all that." His eyes widened, looking down at a very large bug scurrying toward Porkinsky's leg, "Kill it!"
Alarmed, Scooter stomped on it. He heard the crack of a bug's carapace.
The man nervously shook his head, "Not dead."
Porkinksy stomped again, this time splattering purple goo.
The man relaxed and smiled, "Dead." He offered his hand, "Captain Dippen."
"Lieutenant Porkinsky. You've just been floating out here? Why no distress call?"
"Subspace is fried, and I had need of the beacon battery... for something."
Porkinsky looked around at the shambles, "How did you repel the Soujies?"
"Well, I had help."
"As in?"
The man sighed with raised brows, "The Soujies cut into my engine space, standard boarding procedure."
"You're ex-military?"
"Ten ninety first marines."
Porkinsky's eyes looked aside for a few moments, "Weren't they at Chin'toka?"
"You know your history, young man. We certainly were." Dippen's face went ashen, "We were there when the Dominion retook the system. It was..." Unable to think about it any more, he shook it off. "Can you help arrange a tow to starbase?" He jumped out of his seat and triple-stomped another bug.
"What ARE these creatures?"
"Well, they're... I've been trying to get rid of them, but they're so resistant to everything. I tried triparathine insecticide. It quieted 'em for a while, but..." He broke into a smile, "That's how I got one of the Soujies. He passed through a chamber that I'd fumigated, and it ate through his breathing filters. The bugs got the rest of them."
"WHAT?"
"Hey, hey! Don't worry, don't worry. I've got the hives sealed off in the below spaces." He turned on a small monitor screen. The picture was scrambled until he gave it a good slap. It showed mummified bodies covered with a crawling mass. "I'm waiting for 'em to pick the bones. It's the helmet and gear I want. War trophies sell for good money."
Porkinsky shook his head in disbelief, "How... how can you still be alive?"
Dippen scratched at his beard, "Well, I sleep on a suspensor field and surround with an ion screen. Does a pretty good job. They don't like electrical shock."
"Sir, would you excuse me? Just for a moment? I have to check in."
"Hey, I dig it. Go ahead."
Porkinsky stepped around the corner. After checking for creepy crawlies, he relayed his camera footage through is fighter's transmitter to starbase.
Moments later, his response came. =/Ident file: Chester Dippen: Survivor 1091st Marines. Medical discharge. Subsequent psychiatric history.\=
"That's enough." He sighed, "Damn..." He returned to the bridge and sat down. "Captain, the first thing I'm going to do is light up a plague beacon on this deathtrap."
"WHAT? NO! This is my livelihood!"
"No Sir, it isn't. It's your tomb. I'm gonna help you get set up in a real situation."
"I don't need your help!"
"Excuse me? Did a marine just say that to another marine?"
Dippen touched his fingers to his head in realization, "I forgot. I..."
Porkinsky's tone became gentle, "I'd expect you to help me out of a bad spot, and I'm going to help you."
The vet choked back tears, "I don't even know how I got out here. Oh! I remember." He looked around to see if any strangers might be watching, "I want to set up a gun shop."
Scooter got an irked, puzzled expression on his face, "A gun shop?"
"Yeah." Dippen got up and motioned for the pilot to follow. He forced open a wall panel, revealing a cache of weapons. "I found these while salvaging an Orion smuggler."
"Oh, man!" Porkinsky wasn't an expert on xeno-firearms, but he would have made a stiff wager that many of these were highly illegal. "Captain, what are you doing, spreading more war?"
"Defence, Lieutenant! Defence! No more victims!"
Porkinsky sighed, pausing for a few moments. "Dippen, half of these probably aren't even safe to fire." He held up a rifle booster and shared the high radiation reading on his wrist computer. "After quarantine puts us both through the ringer, you're going to hang your hat in my quarters until we can get you on your feet again."
The man stared nervously, "I'm no freeloader."
This time it was Porkinsky who spotted and double-stomped an aggressive bug. "You're a fellow marine who needs a little bit of help. After I help you, you're going to pass it on."
He trembled, shaking his head, "I can't. I can't be around people. I loose it from time to time. People just want me to go away."
Porkinsky grasped firmly at his shoulder, "Not this time, they won't."
"I don't want to live in a hospital any more."
"Whatever it takes. Worst case scenario, we build you a new ship... marine worthy, not a filthy bug hive. And no more peddling death. I know there's a place for you somewhere. A good place. I don't care if it takes years, I'm going to help you find it."
The tormented man's misted eyes rolled back, his desperate soul clasping hands with a long needed friend. He didn't have words.
"Porkinsky to Starbase, I am declaring plague status. Requesting assistance."
=/Red Six! Confirm plague declaration!\=
He calmly replied, "I do confirm, Base. Activating fighter beacon now." Business now taken care of, Porkinsky sat back and smiled at his new brother, "I feel brave enough to try some of that coffee, now."
[OFF]
2nd Lt. Scooter Porkinsky
Merchant Capt. Chester Dippen
Starbase 332
Pegasus Fleet
