Post by Ilana Logan on May 5, 2012 12:20:55 GMT -5
Marion
July 27, 2511 - Haven
8:57 A.M Local Time
4:12 A.M A.S.T
Ilana sat on a crate in the engine room as the ship decended toward Haven. This old Jo Lynn was insanely comfortable, but there had been more than a few moments when she had been terrified they were all going to die. Being the mechanic, that was definitely not a good thing. She had been with this crew for four months. She knew there was a reason they made the stupidly long trip to this backwater moon, but she had no idea what that reason was, aside from there being a job to finish there. Apparently, she hadn't been part of the crew long enough for information like that to be volunteered, though she had asked. They politely informed her that with any luck, she'd never have to see them again, and with that in mind, they didn't want her carrying information about the type of work they did. She almost protested that that statement alone gave her more than enough information on what type of work they did, but she reconsidered quickly. She figured a comment like that was likely to get her tossed out the airlock. She didn't like that she had to work a job without knowing what that job entailed, but they were paying her extremely well for it, so she said nothing about her feelings, though in retrospect she knew she should have said something. Maybe she would have balked at what they wanted her to do. Most likely though, she wouldn't have. There was no way any of them could have known what had happened since their last comm with their contact on Haven.
The sun was shining when she stepped off the ship, and she turned her face up to it and closed her eyes. It had been four months since she felt sunshine on her skin, and she was going to relish in it for a moment. She took a deep breath, lowered her head, and opened her eyes. She sighed heavily, readjusted the pack on her shoulder, and fell in line with the group she was traveling with. She let her eyes roam over the crew with her; Aisha the pilot, Harlan the cook, Kate the medic, Tim the gunner, and Jake the one who didn't seem to have any skills aside from being a very good thief. In fact, that might be exactly what made him so valuable to the crew.
A moment later, Roman, the captain, came out of the ship steering the mule. He stopped it and gave them all the hand signal to climb up. They all scrambled onto the mule, and no sooner than they had sat down, it started moving again. She sat on the back of the mule, feeling the wind blowing through her hair, and just enjoying it. She loved being in the black, but after a while, she got anxious to be on land again. She didn't need to be there for long, just a bit. After a while she got where she thought she was forgetting the feel of the sun, and the wind, and that is what got to her one really long trips.
The drive to the closest town wasn't that far from the ship. Maybe five minutes; certainly no longer than that. As they came to the town, Ilana could tell right off something was wrong. The biggest tip-off that there was something amiss was the bodies scattered everywhere. No sooner than she saw the bodies, the mule stopped moving. Roman climbed down and signaled to the rest of them to do the same. Ilana climbed down and scanned the area. After a moment of looking around, it was pretty easy to see what had happened there. Reavers.
Like a light being turned on, suddenly her nerves were singing with tension. She was looking everywhere for a threat that probably didn't exist anymore. She knew that intellectually, but some instinct in her knew the Reavers couldn't have been here long before that, and that meant they may have seen them coming in, and they could come back. That's what her brain was telling her anyway. There was a silent argument going on inside of her head, and the winner would determine whether her sanity stayed intact. She was able, albeit barely, to push all thoughts from her head, and concentrate on getting through the land of the dead, as she was currently thinking of it.
The crew began moving toward the center of town ahead of her. Once she noticed they were walking, she began to do the same, walking a little faster to catch up. Bodies littered the ground like trash at a carnival, and there wasn't much empty ground to walk on. These people definitely hadn't been dead very long. Not even a day, but aside from that, she was no crime scene expert, and couldn't gauge how long they had been dead further than that. All she knew was that with the sun shining, if they had been dead long, there would be a smell. There was no smell, aside from lots of blood, and worse things that she didn't want to think about too much. That was kind of hard. By smell alone, you could tell at least one of the nearby bodies had been disemboweled. That was an awful smell, but there was no smell of decomposition, and in the sunlight, on Haven, that sure didn't take long.
There was a cluster of bodies in one area that looked almost as though they had been arranged the way they were on purpose. Considering what had done this, that wasn't very likely, but not altogether impossible. There was no going around them unless you could walk through walls, or wanted to go around the entire town and circle back. The group ahead of her stepped over the bodies and kept moving, so she did the same. Well, she tried to do the same. She made her way to the edge of the cluster and stepped over the last body before open ground. Unfortunately, the last body she stepped over happened to be alive still.
She felt a large hand close around her ankle and even as she was reaching for her gun and trying to turn, she heard what sounded like a feral animal growling, and then she felt teeth sink into her left calf. She screamed in pain as she drew her gun, and the others turned toward her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rest of the crew doubling back to her. She switched the grip she had on the gun to hold it by the barrel. The thing's (she couldn't bear to think of it as a man) teeth were sunk firmly into her leg, and shooting it would mean shooting herself. She gripped the barrel firmly in her right hand and swung the gun with all her strength, bringing it down on right on the crown of the thing's head. His grip on her leg loosened, but he did not entirely let go. It made a sound low in it's throat and then his grip tightened again. She made a noise similar to the one the thing itself made at the pain in her leg and anger and being attacked, and she refused to think about the sound that came from her too closely right then.
She heard shouting from in front of her, but she was looking down at the thing she had stepped over, the thing that had been a man not long ago. She was pretty sure it had been a man at one point, but it had been mostly scalped and was cut up so badly she wasn't 100% sure about that. She raised the gun again and brought it down in almost the same place as before and just as hard. The teeth in her leg released her then, and she stumbled away from it. She switched her grip on the gun, holding it by the butt again, and fired at the thing on the ground just as it was recovering from her second blow. Even as she pulled the trigger, she heard five other guns go off, and she watched it's head explode in a spray of blood, gray matter, and bits of skull.
She went down to one knee with a grunt and Roman came to her side. She was panicking for several reasons; one being that she was getting really cold. She knew that in this heat, that was probably a symptom of shock. The she wondered whether she could be in shock if she had the presence of mind to think she was going into shock. Her inability to form a coherent and complete thought was probably another symptom of shock, however, she didn't know a single sane person on earth that could form a coherent thought in her situation. She slid her knife out of its ankle sheath and cut a long swatch of her t-shirt off. Roman snatched the strip of cloth out of her hands and wrapped it tight around her leg. He took her hand in his and pressed it to her leg where he hand wrapped the strip of shirt around it. Then he took the knife from her hand, cut off a strip of his own shirt, and tied it around the strip already wrapped around her leg. He tied it off even tighter than he wrapped it and he looked her in the eyes. His eyes were searching hers for something she couldn't name, and she knew he saw the fear in her face as plain as he could see it was daylight.
He patted her cheek and said, "You're gonna be fine. We'll get you back to the ship and Kate will take care of that."
Ilana nodded jerkily and Roman stood. He held his hand out to her. She took it gratefully and he helped her to stand. She put pressure on the leg to test it and found she could support herself on it fine. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't going to collapse under her. She figured she could finish the job before she went back to the ship with Kate. Roman started to put his arm around her to help her back to the mule, but she shrugged him off and walked toward to rest of the crew, with only a slight limp. It hurt a lot worse when she was actually walking, rather than just standing on it, and she was making it even worse by trying to keep the limp out of her step. She was going to do her damndest to not show weakness to this crew, even if that meant more pain than was absolutely necessary.
July 27, 2511 - Haven
8:57 A.M Local Time
4:12 A.M A.S.T
Ilana sat on a crate in the engine room as the ship decended toward Haven. This old Jo Lynn was insanely comfortable, but there had been more than a few moments when she had been terrified they were all going to die. Being the mechanic, that was definitely not a good thing. She had been with this crew for four months. She knew there was a reason they made the stupidly long trip to this backwater moon, but she had no idea what that reason was, aside from there being a job to finish there. Apparently, she hadn't been part of the crew long enough for information like that to be volunteered, though she had asked. They politely informed her that with any luck, she'd never have to see them again, and with that in mind, they didn't want her carrying information about the type of work they did. She almost protested that that statement alone gave her more than enough information on what type of work they did, but she reconsidered quickly. She figured a comment like that was likely to get her tossed out the airlock. She didn't like that she had to work a job without knowing what that job entailed, but they were paying her extremely well for it, so she said nothing about her feelings, though in retrospect she knew she should have said something. Maybe she would have balked at what they wanted her to do. Most likely though, she wouldn't have. There was no way any of them could have known what had happened since their last comm with their contact on Haven.
The sun was shining when she stepped off the ship, and she turned her face up to it and closed her eyes. It had been four months since she felt sunshine on her skin, and she was going to relish in it for a moment. She took a deep breath, lowered her head, and opened her eyes. She sighed heavily, readjusted the pack on her shoulder, and fell in line with the group she was traveling with. She let her eyes roam over the crew with her; Aisha the pilot, Harlan the cook, Kate the medic, Tim the gunner, and Jake the one who didn't seem to have any skills aside from being a very good thief. In fact, that might be exactly what made him so valuable to the crew.
A moment later, Roman, the captain, came out of the ship steering the mule. He stopped it and gave them all the hand signal to climb up. They all scrambled onto the mule, and no sooner than they had sat down, it started moving again. She sat on the back of the mule, feeling the wind blowing through her hair, and just enjoying it. She loved being in the black, but after a while, she got anxious to be on land again. She didn't need to be there for long, just a bit. After a while she got where she thought she was forgetting the feel of the sun, and the wind, and that is what got to her one really long trips.
The drive to the closest town wasn't that far from the ship. Maybe five minutes; certainly no longer than that. As they came to the town, Ilana could tell right off something was wrong. The biggest tip-off that there was something amiss was the bodies scattered everywhere. No sooner than she saw the bodies, the mule stopped moving. Roman climbed down and signaled to the rest of them to do the same. Ilana climbed down and scanned the area. After a moment of looking around, it was pretty easy to see what had happened there. Reavers.
Like a light being turned on, suddenly her nerves were singing with tension. She was looking everywhere for a threat that probably didn't exist anymore. She knew that intellectually, but some instinct in her knew the Reavers couldn't have been here long before that, and that meant they may have seen them coming in, and they could come back. That's what her brain was telling her anyway. There was a silent argument going on inside of her head, and the winner would determine whether her sanity stayed intact. She was able, albeit barely, to push all thoughts from her head, and concentrate on getting through the land of the dead, as she was currently thinking of it.
The crew began moving toward the center of town ahead of her. Once she noticed they were walking, she began to do the same, walking a little faster to catch up. Bodies littered the ground like trash at a carnival, and there wasn't much empty ground to walk on. These people definitely hadn't been dead very long. Not even a day, but aside from that, she was no crime scene expert, and couldn't gauge how long they had been dead further than that. All she knew was that with the sun shining, if they had been dead long, there would be a smell. There was no smell, aside from lots of blood, and worse things that she didn't want to think about too much. That was kind of hard. By smell alone, you could tell at least one of the nearby bodies had been disemboweled. That was an awful smell, but there was no smell of decomposition, and in the sunlight, on Haven, that sure didn't take long.
There was a cluster of bodies in one area that looked almost as though they had been arranged the way they were on purpose. Considering what had done this, that wasn't very likely, but not altogether impossible. There was no going around them unless you could walk through walls, or wanted to go around the entire town and circle back. The group ahead of her stepped over the bodies and kept moving, so she did the same. Well, she tried to do the same. She made her way to the edge of the cluster and stepped over the last body before open ground. Unfortunately, the last body she stepped over happened to be alive still.
She felt a large hand close around her ankle and even as she was reaching for her gun and trying to turn, she heard what sounded like a feral animal growling, and then she felt teeth sink into her left calf. She screamed in pain as she drew her gun, and the others turned toward her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rest of the crew doubling back to her. She switched the grip she had on the gun to hold it by the barrel. The thing's (she couldn't bear to think of it as a man) teeth were sunk firmly into her leg, and shooting it would mean shooting herself. She gripped the barrel firmly in her right hand and swung the gun with all her strength, bringing it down on right on the crown of the thing's head. His grip on her leg loosened, but he did not entirely let go. It made a sound low in it's throat and then his grip tightened again. She made a noise similar to the one the thing itself made at the pain in her leg and anger and being attacked, and she refused to think about the sound that came from her too closely right then.
She heard shouting from in front of her, but she was looking down at the thing she had stepped over, the thing that had been a man not long ago. She was pretty sure it had been a man at one point, but it had been mostly scalped and was cut up so badly she wasn't 100% sure about that. She raised the gun again and brought it down in almost the same place as before and just as hard. The teeth in her leg released her then, and she stumbled away from it. She switched her grip on the gun, holding it by the butt again, and fired at the thing on the ground just as it was recovering from her second blow. Even as she pulled the trigger, she heard five other guns go off, and she watched it's head explode in a spray of blood, gray matter, and bits of skull.
She went down to one knee with a grunt and Roman came to her side. She was panicking for several reasons; one being that she was getting really cold. She knew that in this heat, that was probably a symptom of shock. The she wondered whether she could be in shock if she had the presence of mind to think she was going into shock. Her inability to form a coherent and complete thought was probably another symptom of shock, however, she didn't know a single sane person on earth that could form a coherent thought in her situation. She slid her knife out of its ankle sheath and cut a long swatch of her t-shirt off. Roman snatched the strip of cloth out of her hands and wrapped it tight around her leg. He took her hand in his and pressed it to her leg where he hand wrapped the strip of shirt around it. Then he took the knife from her hand, cut off a strip of his own shirt, and tied it around the strip already wrapped around her leg. He tied it off even tighter than he wrapped it and he looked her in the eyes. His eyes were searching hers for something she couldn't name, and she knew he saw the fear in her face as plain as he could see it was daylight.
He patted her cheek and said, "You're gonna be fine. We'll get you back to the ship and Kate will take care of that."
Ilana nodded jerkily and Roman stood. He held his hand out to her. She took it gratefully and he helped her to stand. She put pressure on the leg to test it and found she could support herself on it fine. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't going to collapse under her. She figured she could finish the job before she went back to the ship with Kate. Roman started to put his arm around her to help her back to the mule, but she shrugged him off and walked toward to rest of the crew, with only a slight limp. It hurt a lot worse when she was actually walking, rather than just standing on it, and she was making it even worse by trying to keep the limp out of her step. She was going to do her damndest to not show weakness to this crew, even if that meant more pain than was absolutely necessary.