USS Dark Fire (IC)

[milkmaiden38]

Hora
Hora stepped back into the waiting area and reclaimed her towel. She wrapped around her voluptious form. A small, private sigh escaped her. She’d been hoping to offer help to Lieutenant Araiza with the decontamination gel. Ah well. Another opportunity would come around. Hopefully one where she was naked too!

What did catch her attention was the Lieutenant’s refusal to let Dr. Ta Penu assist him. Interesting. Then again, the Kaminoan had a talent for producing zero warmth. She really believed she was the galaxy’s gift to the other species. Tall, elegant, and perpetually smug—Ta Penu could turn a simple “good morning” into a put down.

“Lieutenant Araiza,” Hora called as she held her towel. He was absorbed in a journal, posture relaxed in that way that suggested he was thinking about nothing. “I haven’t forgotten that drink I owe you. Commander Reeves has just been keeping us both running in circles.”

Before he could answer, Dark Fire’s voice resonated through the room. “Decontamination complete.”

Duty reclaimed her. Hora slipped into her captain’s uniform with practiced efficiency. A moment later, she strode out, every inch the commanding officer of the USS Dark Fire, heading for the bridge.

 

[sereneotter00]

◅ ALFREDO ARAIZA ▻​

He couldn’t have been any faster in dressing. Tossing his book aimlessly, he got up and threw his standard attire on.

Araiza tossed some final words on his way out to his decon companions. “As a blanket statement, make sure I finally stop getting invited to these field trips. I’m gonna be busy the next half of the day, so if any of you need me for any of your projects or debriefs or whatever, I can promise you, you don’t.”

He gave a smile so sarcastic it almost seemed genuine. He turned on his heel and immediately marched to his workshop. He didn’t crave wasting any of his time. Although he was aware that deadlines were never a challenge if they were given to him in the first place, he wanted to go through their gathered treasures as quickly as he could; it was less about his responsibility as a weapons technician and more about his own desire to know what the potency was of their new toys.

He was in his empty lab in no time. “Dark Fire, give me a heads-up when the arms we got in the trip are cleared and on their way here,” he called out to the AI, starting to gather some equipment. “Let the big guys know I’ll have a report sent by tomorrow and that anyone who bothers me will automatically be signed up to do our officers’ weekly storage upkeep or become a dummy to test these things after reconstruction, whichever I’m in the mood for.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1030

Kaela Mensha:

Stepping onto the Bridge with an escort of two security officers, Kaela Mensha stood to the side watching as Reeves and the Captain ran their rather claustrophobic and graceless bridge with a fair amount of efficiency.

Unlike a control center on his peoples ships this was dark and gloomy, typical of a non Aeldari.

Reeves:

Glancing over the report on the new alien ally Reeves raised an eyebrow. His wife was thorough, and her summation stated that the armour was the alien, and it had been grown like like a beehive. Apparently the alien was a synthetic lifeform. Though it had declined to elaborate on it’s nature or it’s species.

She’d also included a statement about the possibility of offending any of the new aliens by allowing Dr. Ta Penu to clone any of them without considering or consulting them about their sociological beliefs.

“Captain, you may want to slow Dr. Ta Penu on her project...”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Hora stepped onto the bridge carrying the bright, excited energy, of an Orion who had fun showing off her amazing body during the decon cycle.

“Commander,” she said, voice warm, “excellent support on this operation. Please log commendations for everyone involved—including yourself.”

Reeves was about to reply as Kaela Mensha entered with escorts, the Aeldari’s presence shifting the room’s center of gravity.

“Kaela Mensha,” Hora said, gesturing toward the Commander, “our executive officer, Commander Reeves.” The two exchanged polite, pleasantries.

Hora tapped her comm‑badge before Kaela could turn back.

“Dr. Ta Penu, direct order: cease all cloning on new species immediately. Shift focus to identifying any Tyranid agent or vector. If you believe cloning is required, you will need to justify that to Dr. S’La. Captain Hora, out.” She closed the channel quickly.

Only then did she face Kaela and Reeves fully.

“Before I give you a tour of the bridge,” she said, “I want to bring you both into my new line of thinking.”

Her posture shifted—being more thoughtful, but also calculating.

“I believe the risk of retrieving the remaining survivors from the space hulk is too high. The Tyranid infection vectors are still unknown, and I won’t bring that threat aboard.” She looked directly at Kaela as she continued. “Instead, we beam over supplies—food, medicine, defensive gear. A mini‑field generator, weapons effective against whatever is over there. Enough for them to hold out.”

She folded her hands behind her back.

“With the help of the species we already have aboard, we notify their respective governments. They can extract their own people. We reduce our exposure while still honoring our duty to help.

As for defenses and weapon, if none of our weapons can help, what simple weapon would you recommend, Kaela Mensha?"

Her gaze moved between them, sharp and expectant.

“Thoughts?”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1035

Kaela Mensha:​

“My understanding and observation of your hand held weapons, as utilized by yourself and your Security Officer, indicate to my that they are deigned to interact with the nervous system of the target, immobilizing them. Except at the highest settings but even then it still does not disrupt their biological functions. Instead it overloads their neural synapses resulting in death.”

“As the Tyranid species is not an individualized entity, but are synaptic, operating under a hive mind, immobilizing one in such a manner is not possible. Only by eliminating a Hive Tyrant or a Hive Mind Bio-ship is it possible to neurologically disrupt them.”

“Anything you have that separates biological matter from each other is effective, though melee weapons pose the problem of being close enough to be infected by the Tyranid pathogen.”

“Greenskins are similar in that as a fungus species they have no nervous system and thus are unaffected. They, unlike Tyranids, do not propagate by infection of other species. Our understanding is that they accumulate mass until they reproduce via mitosis. Resulting in two or more smaller versions of themselves. They consume biological matter and photosynthetic energy. Whichever is available, though they prefer to consume their enemies during battle for healing and reproduction.”

“My recommendation is that you utilize fire, explosive compression, solid projectile, and/or high energy light emission weapons.”

“My weapon is called a Wraith Cannon. It opens a small, temporary rift from realspace into the Warp that tears apart its target through the unleashing of potent gravitic forces and then swallows the remains. He effective range is one meter from the focal point.”

“Unfortunately, it cannot be utilized one that is not disciplined in it’s use. Any attempt to do so would result in the death of the user as well.”

Reeves:​

“My recommendation is to get the Hynerians off the ship first. Everyone they’ve encountered has filed a complaint out about them.”

“Otherwise, I can pass on the information about the weapons to The Major and The SecChief. As for supplies, we can send whichever you deem appropriate Captain, we have food and medical available, though I’m not sure how any of or medications would interact with the unknown species.”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

“Commander, I completely agree about the Hynerians,” Hora said dryly. “Can we transport them back to the planet—somewhere warm? Set up an emergency shelter with power, food, water… maybe a book on how to be kind to others? Or,” she added with a smirk, “we could isolate them in a cargo bay and let Dark Fire deal with them.”

“That idea does not have merit,” Dark Fire replied flatly. “My personality is programmed to become irritated.”

Hora chuckled. “Didn’t like it either. Planet sounds best.” She straightened, her tone shifting to command. “As for the others—after a conversation with the Nebari and Luxon, we’ll transport the appropriate supplies to the space hulk.”

The turbolift doors hissed open. Ryn stepped out, his white robe flowing, lightsaber at his side. “Permission to come on the bridge,” he said.

“Granted,” Hora replied.

Ryn approached the captain, commander, and Kaela Mensha—his gaze locked on Kaela the entire time. “I sensed a Force user aboard this ship,” he reported, his voice low and deliberate. He didn’t look away from Kaela.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1040

Dark Fire:​

“There is no space survivable for an extended period of time on the planet. Any space with sufficient warm is already occupied with hostile native Fauna. The highest probability of survival is on the Space Hulk.”

“Utilizing direct energy impacts there is a 87.39% chance of breaching sufficient passages to prevent hostile biological lifeforms from reaching any surviving sentient and potential allied lifeforms.”

Kaela Mensha:​

“Tyranids are capable of surviving in space and other hostile environments, and any biological matter they consume allows them to adapat and mutate at an incredible rate.”

“The Hynerians are capable of surviving in standard biological atmospheres. If placed anywhere on the Space Hulk, they should be able to survive, as long as the Tyranids are eliminated, or they are isolated from them.”

Looking around the bridge, it said, “How do you function in such a confined and dark place?”

As Ryn approached the Helmet turned to face Ryn directly, “I am not familiar with the Monkeigh term, ‘Force User’ What does it mean?”

Unlike the Luxans, Nebari, and Hynerians, Kaela Mensha wasn’t using the universal translation matrix, they were actually speaking English.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

"Sorry, Kaela Mensha, most of our species come from worlds where this light level feels comfortable,” Hora said, her tone pragmatic but not apologetic.

Ryn folded his arms. “A Force user is a being with a deep connection to the energy field known as the Force. Awareness of life energy—and the ability to guide its flow—makes one a Force user. Those who train to attune themselves can perform feats that defy physics. I’ve heard of pilots lifting starfighters with nothing but their minds.”

Hora grinned. “I’ve got to get me some of that Force energy,” she said in a thick, mock accent. No one laughed.

“What Force abilities do you possess?” Ryn asked Kaela Mensha. As they spoke, Hora turned to Commander Reeves.

“Commander, coordinate with Dark Fire. Collapse unstable passageways to protect the survivors. Aim for safety levels above eighty-seven percent. I’ll work with Kaela Mensha on arming them.” Her voice suggesting he had freedom to generate the best plan.

When Ryn and Kaela finished their exchange, Hora cut in. “Dark Fire, display images of primitive weapons—tools once used to separate biological matter.”

“You intend to remove the Hynerians immediately?” Dark Fire asked.

“Yes, we’re past that issue. Keep up, Dark Fire. Show the weapons.” Hora’s tone was sharp.

A cascade of holographic images appeared: swords, rifles, machine guns, rockets, flamethrowers, lasers—and finally, Lieutenant Sol’s favorite, a plasma cannon.

“I’m thinking machine guns might be best against Tyranids and greenskins,” Hora said, glancing at Kaela Mensha. “But you tell me.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1045

Kaela Mensha:​

“Ah, Quaarin. A manipulator of all that is. All the energy within and around us. All Aeldari are Quaarin. The greatest are Idain, Farseers. They are guides and leader to our people. Farseer Ialathoth sent me here to wait for you.”

“As for abilities, I am capable of foresight, as most of our people can. Enhanced reflexes and attunement to myself and my gear.”

“Our first lessons are how to understand ourselfs, and that which is around us.”

“The Hynerians are a distasteful species, but they are well skilled in the art of negotiation and trade, when they will make profit in it.”

“I would advise against any explosive weapons within the confines of a spacehulk. Between the various energies and fuels, and the chance of breaching the hull into space failure would be catastrophic.”

“These machine guns, flamethrowers, and this plasma cannon would be most effective. The directed light weapons may be useful, if they are sufficiently high in power. They’d need to cut the creatures faster than they can heal.”

“Also there are weapons aboard my Ship The Bright Star. Although they would only be usable by Quaarin, Force users as you call it."

Reeves:​

“Captain, we have target acquisition. We can create a safe space with an airlock for the Hynerians. We can transport them into the spot easily, with sufficient supplies for a week.”

"Captain, we could also use this time to collect data from the memory cores of the other ships. As well as any weapons that Kaela Mensha would classify as viable."

"As well as moving any other survivors to the Dark Fire or to the Hynerian area, as appropriate."

 

[milkmaiden38]

Ryn inclined his head toward Kaela Mensha, his voice low but earnest. “Thank you for explaining. I’d like to learn more of your techniques. I’m mostly self‑taught… a proper mentorship would help me refine what I know.” He ask with quiet sincerity.

Meanwhile, Captain Hora turned her attention back to Commander Reeves’ plan.

“Commander, I like the plan. Proceed—and let’s get those Hynerians off the ship as fast as possible.” Her tone changed as she continued. “As for your other proposals: data collection and gathering weapons makes sense, but I really do not want to risk any crew members. Can we use probes? Or non‑sentient droids?”

She looked down at the deck, thinking aloud.

“I’m also concerned about more survivors coming Dark Fire. Their own governments should be the ones to retrieve them. If we relocate them to a secure zone and arm them—machine guns, lasers, but no plasma cannons; I’m not letting anyone punch a hole in my hull—they should be able to hold out for a week until help arrives.”

Hora paused, looked up to Commander Reeves, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Or am I overlooking something?”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1050

Kaela Mensha:
“As you wish, but I’ve never met a mon-Keigh capable of learning more than the basic rudimentary of techniques. But then I’ve never tried either.”

“We train from birth on Ulthwé, and must master ourselves before being allowed to leave.”

Cmdr. Reeves:
“Sorry Captain, the only non-sentient droids we have are used in cleaning the ship. Windows, floors, the simplest of tasks. Anything more complicated requires sentience.”

“And any probes we send over, are only capable of simple manipulation and data analysis. They could theoretically access the ship computers, but they wouldn’t be able to carry more than one, maybe two weapons at a time.”

“I would recommend more survivors being rescued, we can easily convert cargo bays into a habitat for each species. The act of kindness and generosity may be beneficial, in the diplomatic sense.”

“And retrieval of more biological tissue samples of the Tyranids would speed the process of filtering out their contagion. The more samples, the better.” The Commander advised as he watched the Alien and Ryn speaking. “Though I would recommend limiting the rescues to no more than two dozen of each species.”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Ryn
“I’ll be in Holodeck Two. I can show you what foundational techniques I’ve mastered. Stop by when you’re able.” He gave the captain a respectful nod, his robe pulled together as he slipped off the bridge.

Hora
Hora weighed the commander’s proposal. Dangerous, yes—but everything about this galaxy was dangerous. They hadn’t crossed the wormhole for comfort. They came to learn, to hunt for allies, to understand the parasite before it consumed the federation.

And this space hulk—massive, derelict, and brimming exactly that: information and opportunity. USS Dark Fire wasn’t built to shy away from risk. She was built to meet it head‑on.

“Commander,” Hora said, “thank you for pushing the issue. Your plan has merit. We’ll proceed.” She straightened, the decision settling into her. “First, confirm whether Dr. Ta Penu and Dr. L’Sa have improved our ability to detect Tyranid infection. Then select your away team. I’ll prepare two cargo bays for additional survivors. Keep me informed the moment you’re ready to return to the hulk.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1055

Cmdr. Reeves:​

“Cargo bays that can be decompressed and the contents jettisoned into space would be my advice, Captain.”

“Reeves to Mr. Ryn. There will be an excursion to the other ships for data retrieval and investigation. Your weapon may provemore useful than anything else we use. If you’d like to accompany the boarding party, Teleporter Control Room Four at 1400 hours.”

“Mr. Araiza, I will be off ship, please send a copy of your report to myself and the Captain, just in case I don’t return in time to read it.”

“Dark Fire, Tactical Strike Hynerian. Make some safe space.” Seconds later Tactical strikes from missiles, phaser, and defensive guns engaged the Space Hulk, breaching sections and making several safe airlocks and areas around them for Hynerians , and others, to be safe.

Stardate 29870611.1100​

The escort tapped the controls to the counselors office alerting her to the presence of the Alien ‘guest/ally’. When the door opened the Aeldari stepped through, and paused it’s helmet watching the Counselor as the pearlescent tear dropped shaped gem/jewel in the center of it’s chest glowed softly.

 

[milkmaiden38]

Hora ​

“Commander,” Hora said, her tone clipped but not unkind, “while you’re asking for reports, when am I going to see Yito's account of the injury on the holodeck to Lt Sol?” Her eyes narrowed slightly — not impatience, but with concern that Lt Sol might need to face Captain's mast and reduction in rank.

Ryn
Ryn hadn’t expected to be tapped for another away mission so soon. The request caught him off guard, but he reminded himself that keeping the ship’s officers on his side was… strategically wise.

He clipped his lightsaber to his belt — the familiar weight grounding him — and wondered whether Starfleet would issue him a phaser this time if things got messy.

His stomach growled. Right. Food first.

He made a quick stop at the mess deck, grabbing something he could eat on the move, then headed straight for Teleporter Control Room Four. If he was going to be part of this mission, he intended to be there well before 1400, ready and waiting.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1100

Cmdr. Reeves:
“Dark Fire, send a copy of Ensign Yito Seja’s report to the Captain. I’ll review it in a few minutes.”

“And Captain, If Mr. Sol is available for a return to duty, I’ll be wanting him on the expedition to the Space Hulk. With a plasma cannon. As long as he can control himself, of course. As long as he’s cleared by medical, and yourself.”

Stardate 29870611.1400

Cmdr. Reeves:
“Captain, Dr.’s L’Sa and Ta Penu have both agreed we have a degree of safety when it comes to transporters detecting Tyranid infection.”

Looking over the assemble group he started assigning people into two Squads. Evenly distributed they were in squads of six, and surprisingly he was pleased to see Lt. Sol and Mr. Ryn. With a large quantity of Marines assigned as well he gave a nod to the Major. She’d been out of the loop on a number of missions, and this was right up her alley.

The Alien and it’s weapon were going as well, and Reeves wanted to see the weapon in action first hand, and hopefully people could be trained to use it, if it was effective.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Hora skimmed Ensign Yito’s incident report for the third time. It was clean, precise, and maddeningly sterile—exactly the kind of report a Synthetic Sentient‑Machine Interface unit would produce. No nuance. No emotional context. No sense of what actually happened in that holodeck brawl.

“Dark Fire,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “pull up the holodeck incident with Lt. Sol and Ensign Yito. Run it on my display.”

“Captain,” the ship’s AI replied, “privacy protocols prevent me from displaying that incident unless you provide an override.”

Hora sighed. “This is Captain Hora. Voice override for investigation into crew injury. Code rh‑two‑three‑three.”

“Override accepted.”

The playback began—of the Old West simulation, complete with dust, tumbleweeds, and the kind of dramatic lighting Sol always insisted on. The audio crackled to life.

Hora’s eyes widened as Lt. Sol lunged forward and bit the head off one of the outlaw holograms.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, then burst out laughing. “Oh, Sol… you absolute menace.”

Onscreen, Sol planted his feet, chest heaving, and declared with theatrical gravitas: “The law… has triumphed over lawlessness.”

Hora snorted. “I’m putting that on a mug.”

But the humor evaporated as the playback shifted to the confrontation between Yito and Sol. Hora leaned forward, jaw tightening. It wasn’t a fight—it was a mismatch. Yito moved with machine precision, every motion efficient, every shot deliberate. Sol, for all his enthusiasm and raw strength, was outclassed from the first second.

“End playback,” Hora said quietly.

She exhaled, long and slow. “Dark Fire… Ensign Yito states that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of them to run a simulation together to ‘blow off steam.’ Is that accurate?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Analyze the results of your action.”

A beat of silence.

“Currently,” Dark Fire said, “the data indicates it was a bad decision. In biological terms… I fucked up.”

Hora pinched the bridge of her nose, then chuckled despite herself. “We all make mistakes, Dark Fire. Even supercomputers. Don’t let this stop you from taking initiative—just maybe check with the counselor next time before pairing a Synthetic sharpshooter with a dinosaur who thinks he’s a frontier marshal.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Hora shook her head, closing the report. “Stars help me… I command a ship full of lunatics.”

 

[milkmaiden38]

Hora tapped her combadge. “Sickbay, status on Lt. Sol? Is he cleared for duty?”

The reply came back instantly—and loudly.

“No, Captain, he is not! And the reckless fool walked out of sickbay against my explicit orders!”

Hora winced and held a hand over the badge. “Understood. Where is he now?”

“In Lt. Bumme’s quarters,” the doctor snapped. “Recovering, allegedly.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Hora ended the channel before the physician could build up steam again.

She opened a new connection. The screen flickered—and revealed Lt. Sol sitting up in bed, bare‑chested, bandaged, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. Lt. Bumme sat beside him, wrapped in a blanket from the shoulders down, clearly startled by the sudden call.

Hora raised an eyebrow. “How are you feeling, Lieutenant?”

“Great, Captain,” Sol said, as if nothing in the universe had ever been wrong.

Lt. Bumme nodded. “I’m feeling fine as well, Captain.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hora said. “The doctor in sickbay—”

Sol cut her off with a sheepish grin. “Yes, I know. I left. I decided I’d recover faster here. I ignored his orders. Sorry, Captain. I know I can be… a handful.”

Lt. Bumme gave him a look that was half exasperation, half affection. “He’s definitely a handful, two hands full, Captain.”

Hora allowed herself a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, Lieutenant. I violate doctor’s orders all the time.”

Sol perked up immediately.

“Commander Reeves needs you and your plasma cannon for an away mission,” Hora continued. “Do you think you’re up for that?”

Sol’s eyes lit with unmistakable enthusiasm. “Yes, Captain!”

Hora nodded. “Good. Report to the armory in ten minutes. And please try not to bleed on anything on the way.”

The channel closed, leaving Hora shaking her head.

Her crew was going to be the end of her—and she wouldn’t trade a single one of them.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1100

Cmdr. Reeves:​

Ensign Yito Seja
Mr. Ryn
Kaela Mensha
Conner Maxwell
(Npc to be named later)

Major K’alena:​

Gunnery Sergeant McPherson
Ensign Cook
Lt. Sol
(Npc to be named later)
(Npc to be named later)

The two groups arrived on the space hulk forty feet from each other on the landing deck. The remains of the dead still lay where they had fallen a little more rotten and decayed, some had been chewed by vermin, and larger things.

Several new growths had appeared scattered around, looking a lot like flower seed pods ready to open soon.

Even as the groups were taking in the surroundings the pods quivered like they were vibrating.

Kaela Mensha shifted position and fired it’s weapon. Energy ripping apart the first seed pod as the rest burst open and a bastardized nightmare of a 10 legged spider/scorpian jumped from each of them.

The Major yelled in Klingon as she launched herself towards one of the creatures, her Bat’leth splitting one of them in half with a heavy swing.

“Today is a good day to DIE!!!”


(Currently unnamed NPC's can be killed....)​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Dozens of the spider/plant things came at the two away teams. The things were fast!

“Well. That’s excessive.” Ryn sighed, as his light saber became active

“Good,” Lt Sol snarled, bracing his stance and aiming his plasma cannon. “I’m in a mood.”

The nearest spider creature lunged.

Sol fired.

A thunderous WHUMPF shook the bay as a bolt of superheated plasma tore through the air, vaporizing the first spider‑plant in a burst of burning chlorophyll. The plasma bolt went on to impact the wall cutting a hole in it. The shockwave from the cannon sent several other spiders tumbling.

Ryn was already moving—darting forward, saber carving a brilliant arc. He sliced through two creatures in a single sweeping strike, their bodies collapsing into smoldering heaps.

Conner pulled out his Katate-uchi (one handed Katana like blade) met the next wave head‑on.

His sword flashed, cutting through tendrils that whipped toward his throat. One creature leapt at him from above—he pivoted, slammed it to the deck with his boot, and drove his blade through its thorax.

“Sol!” Ryn shouted. “Left flank!”

Sol growled and pivoted, cannon whining and fired at a cluster of spider‑plants. Sol blast lite up the bay like a miniature sunrise. The cluster of spiders were vapor.

Conner kicked a creature off his leg, snarling, “Why do they always go for the ankles?!”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1105

Cmdr. Reeves:

“Because its the only way to crawl up the body to the face and chest.” The Commander replied scanning the landing bay for any more suprises.

“Lieutenant Sol, turn down the power on the weapon before you blow a hole in the hull and space everyone around you.”

“Tyranids, they come in many shapes and sizes. The larger ones move slower but have deadlier weapons. The smaller ones are faster and far more numerous. The pods indicates that they have started the assimilation and mutation process.” Kaela Mensha commented.

Lifting her tricorder Yito scanned the area. “No further movement within 200 feet, Commander.” she reported.

“Alright, Major take your squad and find the Imperial Ship’s memory core. Download everything to Dark Fire. Take DNA samples of every species. If you encounter more Tyranids, call them from each sub-type. We need to be able to scan for and filter out any contagions. And watch out for the Greenskins as well.”

“My group will search out the Aeldari Ship and do the same.”

“Collect detailed analysis of any weapons you come across, especially if they prove useful against the Tyranids. If possible transport DNA samples and Weapons directly to Dark Fire. We are Alice in Wonderland… Make the best of it.”

“Send survivors to the appropriate locations.”


(Adjusted squad set-up to put sol and cook together and keep yito/sol away from each other.)​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Lt. Sol & Ensign Cook

Ensign Cook slapped her palm against Sol’s with a loud, enthusiastic high‑five.“Same team again! Good to see you, big guy.”

Lt. Sol looked down at the beautiful blonde human beside him. He preferred humans to be afraid of him—most were. Cook wasn’t. She was happy to see him, practically buzzing with it. It felt… good. The same warm flicker he got when Lt. Bumme greeted him after shift.

“I’m glad you’re on this team too,” Sol managed, his voice a low rumble.

He adjusted the power setting on the plasma cannon, the weapon humming in his claws.

Together they fell in behind Major K’alena, Gunnery Sergeant McPherson, and the two marines. Cook noticed Sol was limping—just a little—but the massive dinosaur moved so fast and so powerfully that he still kept pace without effort.

Ryn & Connor

Ryn and Connor bumped fists.

“Good to see you again,” Connor said.

“We really need to meet at a bar sometime,” Ryn joked. “Only seeing each other on dangerous missions is terrible for our social lives.”

Connor laughed, then turned to the marine beside him. “Hey—what’s your name?”

The marine was a Gran: cattle‑like features, three eyes, calm presence. Their species was known for slow digestion, slow chewing, and a remarkable ability to savor every flavor. Their tri‑ocular vision let them see infrared—and read emotions through heat and color shifts.

“Ax Toek,” the Gran said. “But everyone calls me Mule.”

“Mule?” Ryn echoed.

“Yes.” He pointed to the enormous pack strapped to his back. “Because I carry all the stuff.”

Connor grinned. “Fair enough. Alright—let’s move.”

The group followed Commander Reeves deeper into the space hulk.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1110

Cmdr. Reeves:

Moving away from the landing bay and deeper into the space wreckage Reeves walked beside the Aeldari, discussing which way to go at each twist and turn, consulting Yito and the Tricaorder’s active scanner at ever turn or doorway.

Moving through the depths of a dark hallway they stepped around bodies long dead. Not from Tyranids though. They looked like they’d died of starvation.

Pausing at a doorway Yito tapped control as her tridorder – and her own internal units – hacked the control systems and the door opened with a hiss. “Medical bay. Unknown biological. Dead. DNA required, Commander.”

“Of course, make it quick.” He said gesturing for Ryn to go with her and watch her back.

Kaela Mensha moved to the next junction and took up watch without anyone telling them to.

Inside the medical room Yito looked at the layers of frost and dust covering the body, except the room was immaculately prestine.

“Any guesses as to what the hell this weird shit is about?” Yito asked as she started taking DNA from the corpse. At least it was laying on a medical bed and not the floor. “See if you can get into the files so we can get a medical database.”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Ryn​

“My guess,” the white‑robed young man said, “is that this might be patient zero. Someone tried to treat them — that explains the bed, the lowered temperature to slow any spread, and the dust. Whatever happened here… it was a long time ago.”

Ryn spoke while working his decoder, fingers moving quickly as he attempted to access the ancient data core.

“Hey, rumor has it you got the jump on Lt. Sol. Put him in Sickbay, even. How’d you manage that?” Ryn asked Yito as the decoder did its work.

Before Yito could answer, his decoder chirped sharply.

“I’m in,” he reported. “Downloading the data now. It’ll take the computer a while to interpret the structure.”

Lt. Sol and Ensign Cook
“Oops — sorry,” Ensign Cook said as she backed into Lt. Sol for the second time. The corridor was narrow, the lighting dim, and she paused to scan the junction ahead. But she was sure to back into him with her cute ass, and pressed her back against his crotch. “Just checking these passageways.”

“It’s fine,” Lt. Sol replied, steady and unbothered. “You’re soft body not going to hurt me. In fact it feels nice”

Cook glanced over her shoulder with a raised brow. “Zosh… are you trying to flirt with me?”

“It’s Lieutenant Sol,” he corrected, voice low but controlled. “And no. I’m stating a fact, Ensign Cook.”

She smirked. “You really do enjoy projecting that tough‑as‑durasteel attitude.”

He exhaled through his nose — not quite a sigh, not quite a growl. “Riley,” he said, “focus on the mission.”

“Right,” she replied, still smiling as she resumed her scan. “Just making an observation.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Stardate 29870611.1115

Yito:​

“That's a reasonable conclusion. Unfortunately - if they died of disease, virus, or infection - it will contaminate the sample. Though it will provide information on what can kill this species.”

Major K’alena: ​

“If the two of you are done flirting, check in there. Energy reading are low, but it may be weapons or fighter ship bay.”

Stepping across the hall from the door McPherson gave a nod to Sol to open the door, ready to shoot anything that moved.

***

A series of dull echoing thumps resounded through the ship, the skittering of claws on metal numerous as Tyranids hunted for food, and prey.

Occasionally a scream of pain and terror reached the two parties. But so did the sound of weapons, energy and projectile.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Lt Sol and Ensign Cook
Lt. Sol, with Ensign Cook close behind, stepped into what used to be a hangar bay. The place was a graveyard of metal and silence. In the center sat a small ship—once a modest trading vessel, maybe twenty years past its prime. Now it was a wreck: one engine nacelle torn open, a massive hole punched through the hull near the main deck, plating shattered like brittle bone.

The ship rested at an awkward angle, one landing strut collapsed beneath it.

Sol moved closer, boots crunching over the scattered boxes and containers that had spilled across the hangar floor. Whatever cargo this ship had carried would never reach its destination. Most of the containers were cracked open, their contents long gone or rotted away.

“I’m going to open one of these,” he said, crouching beside a sealed crate. The clips resisted at first, but the sealing mechanism still worked. With a hiss, the container unlocked.

Inside were rows of bottles filled with a murky fluid.

“Maybe this trader was smuggling booze,” Sol said, lifting one bottle and giving it a cautious sniff.

He opened another crate. This one was packed with weapons—compact rifles, energy pistols, and a few blades wrapped in old cloth.

“Booze and weapons,” he corrected himself. “Classy combination.”

Cook raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like my uncle’s garage.”

Sol didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He stood, scanning the ruined ship again.