USCMRPG

The US Colonial Marines’ ordinance was remarkably effective and resilient. Nevertheless, under 50 atmospheres of water pressure, the pulse rifles were reduced to useless weight. At least with the pressurization, any remaining infected people were certainly dead. The question now was the shuttles that carried the cryotubes and the infected Marines.

“Sykes to shuttle alpha and bravo. Report status.”

Lieutenant Harper replied, “This is alpha shuttle, we got a little shook up, but the hull is fine. We are secure.”

“Bravo?”

“Williams here, we’ve got a problem…” The Marines were helpless as they heard a shout and then a gunshot through their radios. Then they heard Private Dwight Carlson shouting like a maniac. “You think you can keep me prisoner?! Where are you taking us?! Are we just your sick little experiments?! I’m getting out of here!”

“Private Carlson, stand down, that’s an order!” barked Sykes through the radio. Then there was a loud bang and the radio went silent. “Shuttle bay bravo, move out people!”

The Marines moved across the metal floor of the ship toward the shuttle bay. With the increased pressure, the suits loosened up and began to function properly again. As they reached the shuttle, they saw immediately what happened. The ramp at the rear of the shuttle was halfway down and the inside was filled with water. Climbing inside, they witnessed all the horrors of rapid pressurization. The glass of the cryotubes was gone, no doubt smashed by the tidal wave of water. The bodies inside the cryotubes were smashed to pulp, the individual features of the victims deformed under the massive pressure. The only consolation was that the deaths must have been instantaneous.

In the middle of the shuttle lay two more bodies. Private Williams’ suit had been punctured by a bullet in the gut. The water pressure had destroyed his body. The glass faceplate of his helmet was an opaque mark of gore. As the water entered the bullet hole it would have pushed the soft human body into the helmet and/or the boots of the suit. Beside him lay Private Carlson’s suit. The helmet was off and nothing was visible of the man’s head. The water would have crushed his body down into the boots of the suit.

Sykes shook his head, but he had seen enough gruesome death in his years to be largely unaffected, at least militarily unaffected. “There’s still one shuttle to save, and we are running out of time. Let’s move, people.” The Marines moved into shuttle bay alpha and began the difficult process of getting the shuttle free. The mini-subs had coordinated with Lieutenant Harper and they were arrayed outside the shuttle bays. First the Marines had to get the hangar bay door open. They connected the towing cables of the various mini-subs to the door. Then the helmsmen all accelerated away in unison and the hatch was pulled clean off the Quantum Herald’s hull. Next, they repeated the process of connecting the tow cables to the shuttle itself and towing it slowly out into the silt of the seabed where it immediately sank up to the gills.

“Henniger, call in the Nehalennia. We’re going to need a bigger tow rope.”

(OOC: I am going on vacation to Michigan for two weeks. I might have a chance to post the next turn in a week but maybe not. I will see if Morse can post the turn for me since his character is unconscious.)

Henniger Rogered up and grabbed a shipboard com line.

"Nehalennia, this is Reaper 1-1. Requesting rendezvous and assist with towing target vessel. Repeat, Reaper Actual relaying request for immediate rendezvous and assist over."

As he waited for confirmation he thought of the damage his Marine had done. No one could have known what Carlson would do, but the responsibility still rested with him as squad leader.

Samantha closed her eyes, dropped her head and gave a quick prayer for the poor Marines who had lost their minds....and then their lives....they all knew what could happened when they signed up, but it still hurt, EVERY time....

Opening her eyes again, she turned to her squad and quietly said; "You all did good work out there....stay frosty and sing out if you feel the SLIGHTEST bit strange".

Davros mouthed a silent prayer to whichever deity would listen, as he saw what had unfolded in the now flooded shuttle. He hoped that the sedatives he had given his fellow marine would hold up and nothing else would possibly happen to the other shuttle. He tried to get the other shuttle ready for a tow rope from the larger sub, keeping at least half an eye out on his fellow marines.

Henniger had radioed the sub requesting the tow, and a though hit Davros. When they got back to the ship, or land they didn't know much about what could be infecting them. Davros radioed Sykes and Henniger, "We may want to recommend quarantine procedures on board the sub when we get out of here. No telling if we are contagious, or what we might be capable of doing."