Board Thread:The Mech Bay Bar'n'Grill/@comment-24930445-20140526230330/@comment-24866242-20140614193740

The moment the power went out the emergency systems kicked in. The bay doors slammed shut, closing in a tenth of a second. Outside, the protective force field maintaining the atmosphere for the deck crews flickered briefly but the emergency capacitors held long enough for them to make their mad dash for the emergency shelters before the field failed completely. The crews working outside ran daily drills for the unthinkable scenario that was playing out now, but it still boggled the mind that anyone could feel comfortable working outside without a space suit.

Red emergency lighting activated and Ben looked up to see Sandra in the front windows of the Darwin, tapping on the glass. When she caught his attention she gestured in such a way that could only mean one thing: "What the hell is going on?"

He shrugged and pointed at her, yelling "Stay there!" He held his hand out palm down and pushed at the ground. Stay put, Sandy, he thought to himself, hoping she got his message. A power outage on a starship was a dangerous situation, and knowing what he did about the Vextis' power systems he was having all sorts of nightmare scenarios going through his mind. Hopefully the designers of the ship had considered all of them.

He ran past the Darwin and peered through the porthole next to the emergency airlock next to the big doors. Outside the last workers were climbing into their shelters and pulling the heavy doors shut behind them. One of the doors wasn't locking shut though. Ben saw it sticking out from the door jam about an inch too far before it opened far enough for the workers inside to try and slam it back down. Two attempts later it was too late. The emergency power to the force field above finally gave out and the air outside blasted away with enough force to physically shake the massive ship. The door to the emergency shelter was yanked from the crewmen's grip, and Ben watched, horrified, as four workers were ejected from the shelter into the vacuum of space.

Ben leaned his head against the porthole before standing and pulling out his comm. "Bridge, one of the emergency shelter doors didn't close. There are four men floating loose." The deck crews all wore compression suits on duty, just in case... If they could be captured soon enough they might survive. Their injuries would still be horrific, but... no response to his signal. "What the hell is going on?" Ben wondered aloud.

That was when he heard the first shots.

He whirled around to find the source and saw a deckhand fly backwards into the bay from the hall, a second blast pulse catching him again in the air before he fell lifeless to the floor. Ben automatically dropped his hand to his leg, feeling for the blaster he wasn’t wearing. His gun belt was safely aboard the Darwin, because who could need a blaster here?

Ben silently cursed himself and made a dash back to the Darwin, ducking down behind the landing gear just in time to see a thin man with a pulse rifle stride through the doors after the man he had just killed. The rifle was nearly half the man’s size, but he wielded it competently, scanning the room for targets before homing in on a group of deck hands who were just realizing they needed to run. Three of them fell before the rest made it to safety.

The man with the rifle didn’t rush, but took his time. He casually stepped over the fallen deck hands and tested the handle to the door the rest had pulled shut behind them. It didn’t open and he stepped back, looking up at the control room above before taking aim. The transparent material was built to hold back the vacuum of space, but it hadn’t been designed with a heavy pulse rifle in mind. Ben saw the crew above take cover before the entire panel blew back into the room.

Three security personnel rushed into the hangar from the hall, distracting the gunman. They wasted no time trying to reason with the active shooter, taking aim and immediately firing their weapons. Ben’s jaw dropped when he saw the man take all three shots without so much as flinching. He casually turned to face the defenders and lowered the barrel of his rifle. A moment later all three guards were on the ground.

The shooter stepped over their bodies and walked towards the hall he had entered from, pausing to survey the hangar one last time before departing. That was when he saw Ben. The rifle swung to cover him, but the attacker was in no rush. He walked around the front of the Darwin, peering at Ben beneath the landing gear, carefully lining up his shot. Suddenly he stopped and gasped. Ben watched the man reach up and push a button on an ear piece. “Primary target located out of expected zone. Requesting instructions.” A moment passed. “Acknowledged.” The man lowered his hand back to his rifle, steadying his aim. “You there, step out. Move slowly and you will not be harmed.”

“I can’t say I have the strictest confidence in you there, bud.” Ben called.

“Move slowly and you will not be harmed,” the man repeated.

Ben stepped out, walking out from under the front of the ship, his hands raised. What choice did he have? He walked slowly towards the man, not making any aggressive movements.

“Stop there,” the man instructed when he was about ten feet away. “Turn around. Hands where I can see them.”

Ben heard the man approaching and waited, knowing he would have one chance. For some reason it seemed he was about to be taken prisoner rather than killed. If he was going to be placed in cuffs the man would have to sling his rifle…

He felt a hand on his shoulder and Ben threw himself back, his elbow swinging down to where he thought the man’s solar plexus would be, but instead of connecting he felt his arm pass through empty space. The man had anticipated the attack and stepped aside, but Ben was commited. His momentum caried him back and he sprawled on the floor. A well placed kick to Ben's ribs was his reward for his resistance. He felt them crack and cried out in pain, glaring up at his attacker, who was lining up his next strike. The last thing Ben saw before the butt of the man's rifle connected with his face was Sandy, pounding against the window of the Darwin's cockpit.