05-26-2025, 03:29 AM
== Mid L. Alden and NRC's Radley, Stripe and Bandit. ==
The doors to the Aeroshuttle Bay loomed ahead, scorched and warped from the heat and blast. One was melted solidly into its track, an ugly smear of metal frozen mid-drip. The other was bent inward toward the corridor, its edges blackened, framing a narrow view into the bay beyond.
Leo stopped just shy of the door, Radley and Stripe flanking him in a loose triangle. For a moment, none of them spoke. The fire was out, the corridor mostly stable. It was quiet now, save for the hiss of cooling metal and the distant hum of life support systems catching up.
It wasn’t quite a pause to assess. Not formally. It was just... a moment.
Radley watched Leo from the corner of his eye, quietly studying the young man, the way his shoulders sat too stiff, how his arms had finally stopped fidgeting. He’d seen that kind of frozen focus before. Usually right before someone locked themselves in a bathroom to cry, or punched something they shouldn't.
The veteran officer took a half step closer and kept his voice low.
“Look, Midshipman…” he began, his tone calm and even, “you’ve done good so far, kid. Better than some.”
Leo glanced sideways, meeting Radley’s eyes with a tired blink.
“But head back to the Complex. Take a moment. Get your report done. We’ve got it from here.”
For a second, there was an argument on the tip of Leo's tongue. But it never came. After a moment, the tension in his shoulders softened, ever so slightly. He gave a short, curt nod, not trusting himself to speak, and turned away, heading down the corridor at a measured pace.
Stripe, having taken a detour to assess the last smouldering cables and deck struts, walked past Leo with a kind and reassuring nod as he made his way to the mangled bay doors and as he got a few steps from Radley, he shook his head.
“No obvious dangers. Looks stable enough to poke around, but I wouldn’t throw a party in there.”
Radley nodded, then motioned toward the jammed doors. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
The three officers tried to stare into the shuttle area, glimpsing what they could while silently debating who would risk attempting to make entry first.
With Considerable effort, the three of them worked their way into the Aeroshuttle Bay, crouching and squeezing through the distorted frame with several complaints of constriction and scraped limbs. Once inside, the scale of the explosion became clear.
It didn't take long for Stripe to begin sifting through smaller pieces of debris as Radley and bandit took a cursory glance of the immediate area and stripe, even with his limited Engineering knowledge, realised the source of the blast was obvious. One of the auxiliary systems used to prep the Glennis, specifically a deuterium pump, had been reduced to shrapnel. The device and everything around it was almost unrecognisable, most of it no larger than a fist. The surrounding bulkheads were scorched, and the decking bore signs of violent pressure.
“Damn,” Stripe muttered, crouching to pick up another twisted shard of casing.
“Could’ve taken the whole bay with it if it’d been hooked up to the tanks,” Stripe added grimly.
Radley exhaled through his nose, taking it in.
“Yeah. Someone upstairs is gonna want every sensor log and power readout from the last six hours.”
He knelt beside Stripe examining some of the remains of the pump before giving out orders.
“Mark it, seal it, and get ready for a sweep. Engineering will want this place locked down before they even step foot inside.”
The doors to the Aeroshuttle Bay loomed ahead, scorched and warped from the heat and blast. One was melted solidly into its track, an ugly smear of metal frozen mid-drip. The other was bent inward toward the corridor, its edges blackened, framing a narrow view into the bay beyond.
Leo stopped just shy of the door, Radley and Stripe flanking him in a loose triangle. For a moment, none of them spoke. The fire was out, the corridor mostly stable. It was quiet now, save for the hiss of cooling metal and the distant hum of life support systems catching up.
It wasn’t quite a pause to assess. Not formally. It was just... a moment.
Radley watched Leo from the corner of his eye, quietly studying the young man, the way his shoulders sat too stiff, how his arms had finally stopped fidgeting. He’d seen that kind of frozen focus before. Usually right before someone locked themselves in a bathroom to cry, or punched something they shouldn't.
The veteran officer took a half step closer and kept his voice low.
“Look, Midshipman…” he began, his tone calm and even, “you’ve done good so far, kid. Better than some.”
Leo glanced sideways, meeting Radley’s eyes with a tired blink.
“But head back to the Complex. Take a moment. Get your report done. We’ve got it from here.”
For a second, there was an argument on the tip of Leo's tongue. But it never came. After a moment, the tension in his shoulders softened, ever so slightly. He gave a short, curt nod, not trusting himself to speak, and turned away, heading down the corridor at a measured pace.
Stripe, having taken a detour to assess the last smouldering cables and deck struts, walked past Leo with a kind and reassuring nod as he made his way to the mangled bay doors and as he got a few steps from Radley, he shook his head.
“No obvious dangers. Looks stable enough to poke around, but I wouldn’t throw a party in there.”
Radley nodded, then motioned toward the jammed doors. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
The three officers tried to stare into the shuttle area, glimpsing what they could while silently debating who would risk attempting to make entry first.
With Considerable effort, the three of them worked their way into the Aeroshuttle Bay, crouching and squeezing through the distorted frame with several complaints of constriction and scraped limbs. Once inside, the scale of the explosion became clear.
It didn't take long for Stripe to begin sifting through smaller pieces of debris as Radley and bandit took a cursory glance of the immediate area and stripe, even with his limited Engineering knowledge, realised the source of the blast was obvious. One of the auxiliary systems used to prep the Glennis, specifically a deuterium pump, had been reduced to shrapnel. The device and everything around it was almost unrecognisable, most of it no larger than a fist. The surrounding bulkheads were scorched, and the decking bore signs of violent pressure.
“Damn,” Stripe muttered, crouching to pick up another twisted shard of casing.
“Could’ve taken the whole bay with it if it’d been hooked up to the tanks,” Stripe added grimly.
Radley exhaled through his nose, taking it in.
“Yeah. Someone upstairs is gonna want every sensor log and power readout from the last six hours.”
He knelt beside Stripe examining some of the remains of the pump before giving out orders.
“Mark it, seal it, and get ready for a sweep. Engineering will want this place locked down before they even step foot inside.”