AWD #210: Pallas Evac - Marines
Pallas Evac - Marines
Summary: Pallas Evac - the air wing inserts the Marines and after survivors are rescued, the jarheads are left to do a sweep for any last salvageable survivors.
Date: 04/08/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: The continuation (Marine Insertion) AWD #210: Pallas Evac - Air Wing
Winston Fischer Lleufer Arthur Dropkickst 
Pallas
Bowels of a science outpost.
August 4th, 2005

Thu Aug 04 18:14:36 2005 AWD #210 — Sun Aug 04 18:14:36 2013

The door opens annnnd its just as black in the hallway as it was in the room. A flashlight run across the end of the hallway nearby will reveal a window, but it looks to have been painted over for some reason with something thick like tar or oil. Looking the other direction, the hallway is long and doglegs off to the right in the direction of the heat blooms Milkshake said she had spotted. Their flashlights barely reach that far, though, only illuminating enough for it to be almost shadows at that end. Doors line each side, mostly the kind one would expect on a science outpost. The burbur carpeting on the floor is stained rust in several places with a few footprints from darker concentrations, but there are far more in the shape of bare feet. The walls have been criss-crossed with slices where metal has hit metal and left long scrapes and gashes. Even stronger here, the stench of death is very apparent. It gets into the sinuses and lingers, the kind of smell that lingers in your clothing and hair for days afterwards.

Dropkick pages Winston and Lleufer: At the end of the hallway, there's the sound of someone running. Its soooo subtle. But its the sound of bare feet on carpet.

Winston proceeds forward, rifle held up and ready, checking his corners as he comes to each doorway. Moving slowly and methodically, the burly Taurean goes. Until his comes up to a sudden stop, lifting a fist to signal the rest of the team to stop as well. "You guys hear that?" he growls softly. He looks down the barrel of his rifle, peering into the gloom. Then, he lifts his voice. "Colonial Marines!" he calls. "We're here to evacuate you! Come on out, we're the good guys!"

Lleufer is in the back so it's not easy for him to see while others up ahead peer in. He's alert in back, covering their asses and can't see the details of what looks to have been some nasty fighting in the hall. His ears work just fine though in that moment of stillness after the door's opened. Lleu's head turns a fraction, "Something's coming quick." As he's in back, he can't see what and it's up to the others to react. He clams up as Winston calls out.

As the door slides open, Arthur twitches his head in first and, rifle up to his shoulder, stalks his ways slowly towards the dogleg. When Winston stops, the Leonese MP pulls up opposite and just slightly behind him against the wall. He drops down to one knee, rifle up and at the ready. Better safe than sorry.

Making his way out with the others, Fischer looks around, pausing for a few moments as he looks along the hall with the others, "You all saw that, right? Something moving down there…" The stench makes his expression tighten a bit, as he glances to the others, then back out there. Rifle held at the ready as well now.

Speakers overhead crackle, the sound raspy with the old, tired system. So at least -something- still has power here. It hangs for a moment, the sound of someone breathing on the other end barely discernible. But there's no cries of joy. The footsteps disappeared and there's no more movement. Only the sound of that breathing overhead. Assuming they move forward, its just more of the same. Even approaching the dogleg, there is complete silence otherwise. This facility is rather large, though. There's a lot of ground to cover and very little time.

Lleufer's baritone is very, very low, "I don't think those are friendlies up ahead, sir. You want me to scout ahead or we all go?"

Winston glances up at the PA system, his brows knotting. "The frak is goin' on here?" he growls around his stogie. "Something's fishy here." He glances over his shoulder and nods. "Check it out, Ynyr. Quiet as a mouse, and stay low. We'll cover you." Taking up a position around the corner of the dogleg, the big Taurean nods to Lleufer. "Fischer. When he goes, you get to the other side of the hallway. Let's keep him covered," he says. "Let's hope it's just someone gone stir-crazy down here and not a frakkin' skinjob."

The Leonese sergeant, without any direct orders, holds his position, rifle up and ready to go. If anyone could see Arthur's eyes in the low light, they might be forgiven for comparing them to laser sights.

Nodding a bit as he hears Winston's words, "Got it." The corporal answers quietly, preparing himself to be ready to head over there now.

The MP who used to be an Aerilon tracker and hunter nods and barely breathes his reply, "Yes, sir." Lleufer eases through his comrades then goes more carefully as he begins to proceed down the hallway. You know the man's plenty aware that he might be about to get his ass blown off, walking into a trap. Hopefully not. With his light off, Lleu goes by his low light optics and eases his way carefully. Nonetheless it's difficult to see if there is no light at all. He stays along one wall to keep the line of sight and fire as clear as he can for the others behind him, prepared to throw himself down if shit hits the fan. Quiet, steady he goes until his shoulder lightly scrapes the wall. Lleu stops to listen, studying what little he can see ahead.

The breathing overhead continues, but there's another sound. It sounds like a liquid dripping. Wherever that speaker is originating from, it probably isn't anyplace good. Clothing can be heard to gently rustle in the background. Past the dogleg, the hallway proceeds another fifty feet and terminates at a large rec room. The rest of the team can only see the edge of a billiards table. What Lleufer can see is far more expansive. There appear to be no other exits except for the two dozen rooms and doors they've already passed. The only other option is an open stairwell that leads down, the words 'LABS' and 'ADMIN' pointing down. Someone has scrawled a very large smiley face in blood across the wall there as well.

Winston peers down the hallway, hunkered around the corner. Over his tac-mike, he growls. "Ynyr. Got anything?" Hands grip the stock of his rifle, finger resting lightly on the trigger. Ready to spring to action at the first sign of trouble.

Suddenly, Arthur twitches his head to look behind him, pulling his rifle from pointing towards the dogleg to pointing it up at the ceiling. His eyes sweep the hallway behind him, eyelids narrowing to slits as he tried to scan as much as possible. He hisses a short, wordless warning to anyone within reasonable earshot.

Whatever it is that he sees, or more precisely sees and smells up ahead, Sergeant Ynyr has stopped and is having a moment of trying not to let his stomach throw up what he didn't eat recently anyway. He could relay over his comms what he sees but instead, he carefully starts to fall back. This time he manages to return in silence. When Lleu's back with the others he says low, "It's a rec room up ahead. It's full of butchered bodies. By what I could see and smell. Sir, we can't proceed with these doors behind us unsecured. We go down, we're likely to get cut off." Winston's call to make.

Fischer moves over to the spot on the other side of the wall where he was supposed to go now, looking out as he does, before he grimaces a little as he hears Lleufer's words. Waiting to hear what Winston decides on now.

Winston scowls. "Gods beneath us," he growls. "We're short on time." He checks his watch, then glances over his shoulder. "All right. Fan out. Two meter spread. No sound. Let's get these doors secured. We got ourselves a crazy, looks like. Let's not get surprised, and maybe we can give 'em a surprise of our own." He turns and goes to start doing that very thing, moving as quietly as a man his size possibly can. Which is to say, not very, but he does make the effort.

Sgt. Vashti acknowledges Winston's orders with a curt nod and refocuses his attention to the group's rear. He moves as quietly as possible, rifle at the ready, pointing back the way the Marines entered the station. He does his best to divide his attention between where they're going and where they've been, walking backward as carefully as a 6 foot tall farm boy can.

Their effort is time critical but even with a dozen doors, who knows what's lurking behind them waiting for them to walk on down to that rec room or below? Sergeant Ynyr backtracks with the others and starts to check doors, rifle ready and mindful that if some of them are locked, that doesn't mean they aren't occupied. Quietly over his comm he asks, "If it's locked, you want us to knock'm in, or take the chance and proceed to the next one?" Lleufer pauses to look carefully at the door he's going to check first, to make certain he can't see anything that might be a tripwire or other sign that it's trapped. If he sees nothing, he tries to open it, rifle ready.

Fischer nods a little, with a bit of a deep breath, before he moves to help the others. Listening carefully to the question Lleufer asked, while keeping silent now.

Winston glances around. "According to the floor plan, we're in the dorm area. These should be living quarters. If they're locked, move on. We don't have time to cut through 'em. If they're not, then see what you can see inside. But check the doors first, make sure they aren't rigged with anything. Last thing we need is a faceful of G-4 or anything stupid like that." He nods to the opposite side of the hall. "Fischer. You take that side. Ynyr, back him up. Vashti, you keep watching our six. Whatver we heard, it came from that direction, I want no surprises. Let's move fast, Marines, clock's ticking." That being said, the big Taurean goes and starts checking doors for traps before trying them.

Twenty-four small bunkhouses, each with six assigned tenants. And they rescued twelve people? How many are still alive? Where -are- they? …Probably downstairs. About a quarter of the bunkhouses appear to be locked, though. The doors show signs of tooling where people picked at them, but nothing else. There's no signs of sabotage and boobytraps. The ones that are open have been ransacked and left in complete disarray. Each room is a bit of a nightmare on its own because of the piles of clothing, bedding, and broken-up furniture. What's plainly missing though are the metal frames of the bunks. There's only one bunkhouse with a damaged fram that looks like it could have had access made, but the door has been securely barricaded from the inside and the handle has been pried off to see in. On the far wall, someone has carefully rearranged the furniture and painted a lovely rendition of Aphrodite's face smiling down on whomever hid themselves away. There's no life within, though, and the flashlights can't see the floor. As they near the end, that breathing changes. At first its a gentle sound like the voice might be trying to speak, but it lifts into a gentle humm. A woman's voice, she humms a lullaby known to just about everyone on every colony. And when she finishes, slowly meandering her way through it? She starts over again.

At least that's done and they have a better idea of how many were once housed here. And no surprises waiting to burst out at them on their way in or back out of the hall. It's precious minutes lost but something gained. When they have finished, Lleufer leaves the last door open as he did with all they were able to check, and then he starts towards the rec room, either with the others or ahead of them, whichever Winston decides. Not a word is said, the sound of the woman to lure them on.

Fischer nods as he hears the orders, moving to check the doors on his assigned side. "Nothing…" he offers, before he grimaces for a few moments as he hears that lullaby. "Trying to make us fall asleep, or something?" he mutters, mostly to himself now.

Arthur's eyes dart up towards the ceiling as he starts to recognize what he's hearing. He twitches his head back and forth as if to clear out some mental cobwebs, and then refocuses back on the group's six. Let's hope the lullaby isn't seriously damaging his calm.

Winston glances up at the lullaby. "Either that or just frakking with our heads," he growls. "Let's head down. See what we can see." He chomps down on his cigar, scowling darkly. "I'm starting to think that this is one survivor we won't be able to bring back," he growls. "We can't have someone like… this… loose on Piraeus." He glances around. "PA system is probably gonna be in Administration. Let's check there first, then work our way on down. Ynyr, take point. Vashti, bring up the rear."

Lleufer goes where he's told. "Yes, sir." He acknowledges softly over his com. He makes brief eye contact with the others and heads cautiously into the slaughter house that is the rec room. Points of entry or exit are noted, which ways each of the signs indicate for labs and admin. He's a man trying to not look too closely at the bloody messes that litter the room - the ping pong table looks like it was used to cut up bodies, where as the pool table looks like it was made over for dining. What the hell was going on in here? It smells something awful, of blood, death and rotting corpses. Discarded flesh and bone is strewn everywhere. Lleufer tries not to gag and stay focused as they head through to go down.

The Leonese MP acknowledges Winston's order in the usual way: a nod followed by silent compliance. What's going to make Arthur break his focused silence? Let's hope we don't find out.

Past the smiley face on the wall, the carpet changes to cheap linoleum as it gets to the stairwell. Its a double-width fire staircase built to code, just like any other building on any colony. There's dried blood and foorprints near the top that taper off as the elevation descends. If it was extremely dark up top, the well beneath them is absolutely black. The only light are those from the rifles that reflect off the shine of the floor. Down here? There's no ambient light for NVG's to pick up on. There's nothing for them to pick up. Its just completely black and only the flashlights seem like they might provide any sight. The humming continues through the careful descent, only getting louder where the sound can bounce around. After two switchbacks, though, they arrive at the bottom to an open door that reveals a hallway and the temperature down here seems to have dropped down to fifty or sixty degrees. The place is immaculately clean, even smelling a bit like disinfectant. Its like walking into another world. Leaving the jungle and returning to civilization. Directly beneath the rec room above is a similarly sized room that is completely empty except for a single chair in the far corner, facing in. There aren't even pictures on the walls.

Lleufer is in the lead, taking point. When it gets too dark for his optics, he has no choice but to light up his spotter. Whether it's helmet mounted or rifle mounted, it allows him to see where he's going and not fall down these damn stairs. So much for any hope of sneaking around. At least it smells somewhat better here and his throat stops trying to gag him. As before, he slips to points up against the wall to peer around corners, keeping what cover he might. Man's being careful of tripwires or other traps he might spot. No talking. The empty room is checked and then Lleu's ready to tackle the next bend in the hall. He holds up a moment until the others are ready to proceed.

Winston goes slowly, teeth ground so hard it's a wonder he doesn't bite through that stogie of his. His every nerve is on edge, and it shows in his posture. This is something right out of a horror vid. One of the really bad ones with lots of gore and good people dying in gruesome ways. Reaching the bottom landing, he signals for the other three marines to fan out. Looking into the empty room briefly, he scans it with his rifle's flashlight, before turning his attention to the hallway. "Room's clear," he growls. "Move on to the hallway."

Fischer turns on his light as well, looking around rather carefully as they reach the empty room. "This is…" he mutters a bit to himself. "Why the chair?" Moving into position as he hears Winston's orders, nodding a bit now.

Arthur flips on his spotter and sweeps it around his "part" of the area, keeping his attention mostly focused back the way they came. Winston's order to fan out is acknowledged with his actions, and then keeps moving towards the hallway.

As they move out into the hallway and get into that fatal funnel, there's a sound at the end of the corridor. The humming continues but its the mechanical turn of a doorknob. Before they even have much time to react, a man walks out into the hallway straight ahead about thirty feet away. Eyes closed, he stops and turns his head to face them. "Embrace the darkness. You are fools to not look within for strength." There's something inherently ghastly about the way he smiles afterwards. Its forced to the point that its not even comical. Its like his smile has seen too much. He stands there for four seconds before walking straight ahead and opening another door to go into the next room. Its closed and locked behind him. Ahead, another man's voice booms out a "WELCOME!!!" a little too happily. Its quickly joined by a few more repeating the same word. They echo down the hallway, coming from different locations and rooms. Overhead, the woman continues humming. The Admin Office is just to the left, ahead about six feet.

Winston grunts. "Five cubits says it's rigged," he growls. "I ain't taking the bait. We need to get to Admin. See who's behind all this." He looks up and around, and starts moving forward down the hallway, making his way towards the Administration offices. But he stops up short when he sees the figure at the end of the hallway. The big Taurean's eyes just go wide as tea saucers. "Frak me," he grunts softly. "What the hell happened here? These people just all lose their frakking minds?" His eyes flicker over to the Admin door. "Ynyr. Check it out. Fischer, flank the door with me. Vashti, keep an eye out for us. Weapons ready. We may have to fight our way outta here. But… we need to see. If there's anyone here we can save, we have to try." He takes position by the door, training his rifle on it. "On my go," he says to Lleufer.

Lleufer shifts his rifle at once to point at the man who comes out, splotlighting him for all his group to see clearly. No shooting yet, but he's ready. Only once the man has stepped at once back out of the hallway and the welcomes have echoed, does he dare to spare a glance for Titus. "Aye sir. I think … these were taken and tampered with." Now especially wary and maybe a little more unsettled than if Cylons had stepped out themselves blasting away, Lleufer goes to open the door so indicated. Push it open, use the doorframe for what cover it might be to look and see what's inside, if it isn't locked to his hand.

Lifting his rifle a little extra as he sees the man walking out into the hallway, Fischer waits for now, frowning a bit as he listens to what's being said now. "Frakking nutcases, all of them…" he mutters, before he nods at Winston's words. "Ready," he offers after having moved into position now.

Arthur's acknowedgement of Winston's order comes by way of the big sergeant checking his rifle's safety and clip. The welcome wagon echoing around the hallway seems to ratchet the MP's twitchiness up two or three clicks, but he keeps his eyes peeled and his center of gravity as low as he came without going to knees and elbows.

Winston sucks in a deep breath through his nose. Checking to see that the other Marines are in position, he nods his head. "Go!" he barks, lifting his rifle up into firing position.

The door is actually open. With Lleufer's opening, what is ahead of them doesn't so much resemble offices anymore as it does a throne room of some-sort. At the far end of the elongated room is an elevated dais with a large, high-back chair assembled out of server towers, welded bedframes, and various sundry junk laying around. In the chair is the body of a man, maybe a few weeks dead, with an 'arrow' through his chest. Someone has hung a sign on him that reads 'Virgon Knows Kings No Longer. The King Is Dead.'. On the floor, to the right, is a woman bound and laying on the floor wearing only a labcoat. Next to her face is a microphone and she's humming the tune heard overhead. She doesn't look as gaunt as the survivors already rescued, but its clear this woman has been through extreme emotional and psychological trauma. There's no recognition to the men entering, either. She only closes her eyes with the light moving over her. Down the hallway, more movement can be heard. There's the sound of metal being drug across metal.

"I think it's a trap with bait, sir.!" That metal on metal dragging sound seems too much to his ears to be something being dragged to block off their escape. Lleufer doesn't go for the woman. He backtracks into the hall and stops there to wait for Winston's orders, rifle ready.

Arthur steps to the door outside of Administration. He stands opposite Lleufer, sweeping the hallway with his light, focusing mainly in the direction of the metal scraping sound. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"That can't be good…" Fischer remarks as he hears the scarping sound. Glancing inside to the woman there for a few moments, then back to the hallway, sweeping his rifle from side to side a bit now.

Winston slings his rifle. "Well. Even a mouse sometimes gets away with the cheese," he says. He steps into the room and kneels down, gently helping the woman sit up. "Hey. You're safe now. We're gonna get you out of here," he says to her. "Ynyr. Head back to the stairs, make sure our way out of here is clear. Vashti, Fischer. Cover that hallway. Any psychos start heading our way, you make sure they don't stop us. Do not fire unless they attack first. But if they do… send 'em to Hades." Turning his attention back to the woman, he starts helping her up. "C'mon, miss. We're getting you out of here."

The sound of the scraping stops abruptly. There's no sound from the end of the hallway, only the sense of something moving. The flashlights barely have enough light to get everything. Is someone peeking around the corner? For a moment it looks like there could be, but it slowly melts away. Meanwhile the woman just continues humming. Winston's voice can be heard over the PA throughout the whole facility. They know exactly where the Marines are. She's just like handling a ragdoll, though. There's no attempt to move, just a complete apathy for anything and everything. Did that one survivor who appeared at another site have a similar experience? But as the orders come out to move, there's a flurry of shadows at the end of the hall. The sound of a twang. Arthur feels it more than hears it. Something flies by his head at a wicked speed and impacts the steel wall beyond them. Clanking to the ground, it only take a glance to see what it is. Its an arrow that looks just like the one in the King's chest.

Arthur springs into action, dropping to the floor and crawling to the wall opposite the Admin room. As he drops, he shouts without thinking, "Incoming! Hostiles! End of the hall!" He crawls towards where he believes the arrow came from, but only about six feet or so. He stays down, keeping his rifle trained in that direction, but continues to hold his fire. Don't fire 'til you -see- what you're dealing with.

"We've got fifty foot sprint to reach that corner." And no telling how many hostiles behind it, "And likely, more com'n with that intercom to tell'm we are down here. Maybe we better hightail back up the stairs fast, sir." Lleufer uses the doorway as partial cover, otherwise staying close to Arthur, "Still have the labs to check out. Orders?" His rifle is aimed in the direction the arrow came from.

Winston shakes his head as he hefts the woman up in his arms. "No other way out. We're in the basement. We gotta go back the way we came." Hearing the arrow hit the wall, the big Taurean starts. "Frak! If we try for the labs, they'll close in and cut us off from our only escape route. Those Raiders are coming and we got no time left. Fischer, Vashti! Flares out! Let's get some light out there! Ynyr, take point! We're moving out! Weapons free, boys! If it moves, waste it!" He slings the woman up into a fireman's carry over his shoulder, taking up his rifle with the other.

Keeping his rifle aimed at the end of the hall, while ducking down to make himself a bit of a smaller target, Fischer keeps on aiming, while moving slightly from side to side now. Nodding a bit as he hears the part about the flares, he reaches for one, and getting it ready to light up the corridor now.

That sounds mighty fine to him! No yes sir this time. Lleufer moves to comply, taking point to lead the way but doing so with care not to be leaving his brothers in a fight should there be a rush, either. He's got a sharp eye for what might be going on up those stairs as he moves closer, his rifle ready, his flashlight spotlighting up the stairwell ahead.

Arthur gets up off the floor and, keeping his eyes toward where the arrow came from, pulls a flare from his belt and lights it up. Dropping the flare to the floor, he backpedals towards the stairs that brought them down to this funhouse, aiming his rifle down the hallway back towards the Admin office and the arrow shooter.

Two more arrows fly towards them, aim nearly impossible against those Surefires lights. One arrow impacts the floor and slides along, bouncing harmlessly off Arthur's boot and towards the wall. But the frustration builds and one of them lets off a mighty roar before the rest down there follow suit. It sounds like a whole godsdamned pack of angry wolves. They begin charging around the corner in a mass, five, ten, fifteen… There's a -lot- of them. Rifles crack as the Marines open fire but they keep coming and good god they are FAST. Nothing but insane smiles visible, hands blocking the light as they rush forward. The radio then crackles in their ears, "Titus, Butch. We- *crackling, and a bleeping sound of a proximity alarm* -route back to the LZ; ETA two minutes. Please advise if you require longer to evac, over."

The ground around them trembles suddenly, the radio call seeming to indicate something else happening outside. With the shake is the subtle sound of an explosion outside. That was very close.

Lleufer leaves the radio talk to Titus, "Come on! Get the frak out of here!" If he were only better with demolitions he might dare a stun grenade to see if they'd slow - but for now, he'll try runn'n if the rest of his group is a come'n! Lleu turns and starts up the stairs, making certain the way is clear as he's got point and keeping at least half an ear to what's chasing them. Otherwise, he's going to start climbing those stairs as fast as he can!

Winston moves with his charge in tow, swinging out into the hallway and opening fire like a vengeful god. Spraying rounds into the oncoming mob as he retreats down the hallway. Hearing the Raptor pilot, the big Taurean looks upward. "Thank the gods!" he grunts. Keying his tac-mike, he responds. "Butch, Titus! We have a situation here! Enemy contact, multiple hostiles! We're on our way, but we're gonna need dustoff in a big frakking hurry!" He nods to the other Marines. "Let's get the hell out of here, boys! Go go go!"

"Excellent plan," Fischer mutters, as he fires off a round. "Frak, these are really crazy…" he mutters, hurrying off with the others, once in a while looking back there now. Moving as quickly as possible, while still helping bringing up the rear now.

They aren't stopping. Even as a few of them go down, the wounded just either barely falter or get trampled. Up the stairway, the burst into the upstairs hall as two arrows fly at the Marines from the kill room. Two men stand there, already drawing more, but the Marines are already going to be gone before they can even get another off. Red roundel lights are illuminated in half the quarters from air pressure leaks and there's the feeling of a breeze while air evacuates the structure. This place isn't going to last much longer anyway. Behind the Leathernecks, the horde isn't stopping. There is probably just enough time to get their asses back into the insertion room then shut the door. Though.. how long is that door going to hold?

(OOC Note: About here we rejoin the others in the Pallas Evac - Air Wing log noted above.)

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License