[h1]Episode 2 Finale Part 6 - “Big Damn Heroes”[/h1]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/k4SwtU3.jpg[/img][/center]

JP/Collab from [@Aalakrys], [@wanderingwolf], [@Gunther], [@Xandrya], and [@sail3695]


“Hold on! We’ll get you!” Joe attempted to yell at the man he would later learn was named Yuri. As the ship steadied to a hover, Joe jumped up to his feet, moving with a purpose pulled a safety harness from a storage bin. The harness was constructed of an inch wide nylon webbing with a flotation device in the chest area. He placed it on the deck ensuring the leg holes were opened for his feet. Then he stepped inside. Reaching down to tug on the nylon straps, he pulled them up over his lower torso then over his shoulders. A simple click at the chest tightened the straps around his body. 

“Good thinkin’ Hook,” Cal called as his deckhand settled the gear around himself. “I’ll grab the other one; What, you think you’re the only one gets to have fun?” But if his first mate’s eager footsteps toward the commode were any indication, this could end any number of ways. Looking up from beginning to strap himself in, Captain Strand laid eyes on the doctor, nodding her toward them as they gazed down the bomb bay opening at their feet. At her approach, and from the look in her eye, it became plain that sending the medic was a wiser choice. Unhitching himself, Cal held out the harness for Alana to step into.

Upon her arrival, Alana rushed over to Cal and Hook. "You're not going alone," she chimed in, noting what little she could make of the storm from a distance as she placed her bag down on the deck. Alana then wasted no time getting geared up. She moved quickly and efficiently, having been part of a rescue mission once or twice before. But despite the fact that she was moving expeditiously, Alana still took the time to give a few tugs here and there and double check the harness was secured on her body before hooking herself up to the cable. 

Joe looked at the captain with a thumbs up. “Me and the doc will go get ‘em Cap’n. You kin operate the winch, a’ight?” He then moved closer to the bombay doors. When the winching cable and hook were close to chest level, he grabbed the hook and attached it to the D-ring on his chest harness. He made sure to pull a pair of heavy rubber gloves over his hands not knowing how cold the water would be. He coiled a strand of rope and attached it to his safety harness. He might be able to use it to tie around the man’s arms. He looked at the Doc, “you ready to get wet?”

“Let’s get this sorry [i]Wong Ba Duhn[/i] before he freezes to death, [i]dohn-ma[/i]?” Cal already had his hands on the winch line.

She scoffed with a smile. "As ready as I'll ever be. But please, after you," she motioned, not the least bit looking forward to voluntarily plunging into the cold depths below. "Adios, Captain. Do make sure Hook and myself—and our survivor over there—make it back in one piece." She stared at him for a silent second before turning her attention to the task at hand.

With a half-hearted smirk, Cal nodded to Alana, “Don’t worry Doc, I won’t let those other fish in the sea getcha.” Captain Strand raised his walkie with his free hand, “Abigail, fire up the starboard shuttle cabin heater, if you’d be so kind. Reckon three folk who might appreciate it--if we aren’t too late.”

“On it right now, Cap’n,” the deckhand’s voice crackled over the comm.

With a sudden roar and a hot wind, the heavens above split open.  Blinding light washed over him, the force of another world smashing its’ way into this frozen hellscape.  A slow hand rose to shield his eyes.  The howling wind grew louder still, erasing all about him but the brilliant light above.  He’d heard of people describing such visions when on the verge of death;  Yuri reckoned this must be his time.  The bitter wind carried gusts of warm air, even hot sometimes….which he knew wasn’t natural.  As the next world reached toward him, the mechanic called his beliefs into question.   His mother prayed to her ikons every day.  She tried to persuade her boys to adopt the faith, though neither had.  Now, as he gazed upward into that holy light, the sight of two angels descending filled the youngest Antonov with regret.  “I...don’t....deserve,” he tried to stammer.   

As Joe and the Doctor lowered toward the surface of the water, he forgot any fear of heights he may have. This soul needed help and that was all he could focus on. His boots lowered into the icy cold water. It was a shock initially, but the price needed to be paid. Joe unhooked himself from the winch cable and swam ten meters to the frozen figure gripping to what appeared was once a table. “T’sall gonna be alright, man,” Joe’s soothing voice attempted to calm the figure, to let him know survival was imminent. Joe pulled the rope around the man’s back, lifting each arm one at a time to wrap it around his body. He then tied it off in the front and made a loop at a distant end. “Don’ talk. Jus’ let me do my job.”

Following her counterpart, Alana fought against the waves and the wind to get closer to Hook and the half dead man. To say the job was far from easy was quite the understatement as she was just about being tossed like a damn ragdoll. That, and she found the deep ocean terribly unsettling. And was she the greatest swimmer? Absolutely not.

“Doc, bring that cable closer so I can hook this on,” Joe yelled over the din of the China Doll’s engines. As Alana brought the line closer Joe continued talking to the frozen figure. “Everything gonna be a’ight, man. Don’ you worry none. You be warm and safe soon.”

“Just about there!” she practically yelled, being a few strokes away. Her body involuntarily shivered to protest against the freezing water but slowed down none. They had a mission to accomplish after all. A moment later, Alana handed off the cable to Hook.

One of the angels was dark skinned with deep, knowing eyes.  Yuri felt weak as a child in his powerful grip.  The second angel had golden hair, all aglow in the heavenly light.  He’d seen her before...in [i]mamushka’s[/i] ikon.  Her eyes flowed compassion.  As they lifted him up, Yuri could only weep.  “Unworthy,” he rasped.  “Unworthy.”

“Ah’ll stay in the water for now. Git ‘em up into the Doll quick!” Joe yelled to Alana. He planned to wait long enough for the winch to go up and then back down so he could get out of the frigid water too. It was cold. His body started to grow accustomed to the temperature, but he knew that only meant his own body temperature was adjusting.

The man was hooked up to the line. He was safe for now, and Alana pulled out the penlight from her small side pocket. Battling the elements, she shined the light on both of his eyes. He began mumbling something or the other, but she calmly shushed him. At least his pupils were responding. Alana then put the light away and nodded in response. "Don't stray too far now or I'll have to jump back in after you as well." She then wrapped her arm around the man's back, securing him against her. She waved up at the captain to pull them back up before looking down at Hook. She was not happy leaving him to fend for himself, but they didn't have any other choice.

Cal peered into the dark waves illuminated in the sharp contrast of spotlight from Pen and Sam on the China Doll’s bridge. He could make out Alana and Joe, soaked to the bone, lashing a cable around a dark form. Cal shook his head, chance said they were too late, and fate was even less generous. That’s when the signal came, and Captain Strand hit the winch, patting his open palm against the cargo bay wall to spur the Doll on faster.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alana impatiently waited as they were pulled up the remainder of the way before reaching out with her foot for support. She maneuvered the both of them onto the deck, her patient nearly making her crumble under his weight as the cable wasn't holding him up anymore. Alana immediately unhooked herself from the line so it could go back down to Joe. She did the same for her patient, who was on the brink of collapsing himself, and she used some of what little strength she had to carefully guide him down to lie flat on his back.

[i]Zagrobnaya zhizn'.[/i]  The Afterlife.  His mother had warned him to be prepared for it.  “Live a virtuous life, Yuri,” she admonished the rebellious teen.  “A virtuous life…”  One of the angels, she who had the golden hair, knelt over him, obscuring much of his view.  He thought she was speaking.  Her mouth moved, though he heard nothing but the eternal roar.  Wherever she’d laid him down felt solid enough.  The surface moved and shuddered beneath him, but not enough to force him clinging for his life.  A bulkhead.  Yuri saw a bulkhead.  Was this the Mick?  “The reactor,” he rasped.  “Have to finish the scram…”  He made to rise up, get back to his post.  

Cal recognized the rantings of a man close to death, visited upon by regrets and fears. This man was still on the ship, hoping to flip the killswitch in time--hoping vainly to button up whatever catastrophe had befallen his vessel. His shaky hands reached out, but Alana had him by the shoulder. Strand still manned the winch, steadying it to plunge back into the soup for his man.

A present, albeit weak pulse. No dislocations, one major fracture on his left arm, and no heavy bleeding. Also, no frostbite on any of his extremities, which had quite the potential in particular case. Lots of cuts and bruises to add, though the guy [i]did[/i] survive a shipwreck so that was to be expected. Her initial screening was meant to check for any life-threatening injuries that had been sustained. She looked over her shoulder at Cal. "As soon as Hook is back up we need that stretcher!" From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement. He was trying to get up. "No, you need to lie back down." Her voice was calm, yet stern. Ever so gently, Alana placed both of her hands on his chest to prevent him from sitting up, reassuring him that he was safe and no longer in danger. One hand broke away as she reached into her medbag for a makeshift splint in order to prevent further injury to his arm. She also reached in for a sedative as he was pretty out of it. Whatever blow to the head he received was not doing him any favors at the moment. Alana once more reassured him he would be all right as she injected the sedative. The effects of it would be nearly instantaneous, and it would be beneficial for his concussion in the long run. Moving about like a chicken with its head cut off would only make matters worse for him. After settling him down some, she began to place the temporary splint on his arm, all while readying herself in case there was any sudden movement.

“Way ahead of you sister,” Captain Strand said as he wrenched the lever to retrieve Hook. “Joe, hook in!” He called through the bomb bay doors.

Joe could feel the cold creeping deep to his core. He wondered how long this man had been here. He remembered the report of the Eileen McSorley sinking, assumed he was a crewman. The cold was still tolerable. Annoying but tolerable. He looked up at the belly of the China Doll, his home. It was an unusual sight from this perspective. Eventually the winch cable returned. Joe’s hands were shaking. He reached for the hook. Pulled himself closer and worked at trying to get the winch cable’s hook onto his D-ring. He fumbled with it in the waves as he rose and fell away and toward it. It was a seesaw battle and took more than few tries. Finally, he was reattached to the cable. He waved his arms violently yelling, “pull me up!” repeatedly to get the others’ attention to pull him back into the cargo bay. He knew it was going to be cold. He planned to shower and change his clothing then set about baking pies to stay warm in the galley.

Cal worked the winch as fast as he could to the opening, then abandoned his post to hoist the deckhand up the final step, pulling off the winch’s hold on his “D” clasp. “Fine work, Hook,” he added before returning to the console to shut the hydraulic bomb-bay door.

Once, Joe Hooker was back in the cargo bay dripping like a drowned rat, he quickly pulled the safety harness off. He shivered from the cold clothing that clung to his body. “Shall we help get him to the shuttle, Cap’n?”

“This way,” Cal led the soaking Hook to the infirmary to pick up the expandable stretcher. They returned a moment later, kneeling the stretcher beside the luckiest man stranded in New Melbourne’s Rigby Ocean. “Let’s get him to the starboard shuttle ASAP.”

Yuri couldn’t cease trembling; though wrested from icy grip that held him for God-knows-how long, he felt it welling up inside him.  The golden-haired woman oversaw his movement to a stretcher.  She watched over him, tending wounds he’d not even been aware of.  His mechanic’s ear picked up the sound of metal...heavy plated driven hydraulically, until with a solid report they came together.  At once, the tormenting wind was muted.

He heard another roar, this one steady and echoing slightly as two men, one of them his rescuer, hefted the stretcher.  “Engine thrust,” he muttered, his voice slurred by whatever she had given him.  Atmospheric thrusters...large open bay.  A space going vessel.  He thought to ask...so many questions...but the tiredness rolled over him like the first warmth he’d known. As the men carried him up a set of steps, the woman hurried at his side.  Her hair flashed gold each time they passed beneath a light. [i]Angelic…[/i]

Once the man they’d plucked from the drink--all thanks to Sam and Penelope--was deposited in the warming shuttle with his doctor, Captain Strand raised his walkie to the bridge. “Penelope, doc’s tendin’ to your distress signal in the shuttle. Looks like we were just in the nick of time.“ Much as he treasured playing the ‘Good Samaritan,’ the captain scanned the four-thousand pounds of King Tuna in his hold with a singular intention: get to the black.

Hearing they’d managed to save the person after all let tension all wound tight in Penelople’s shoulders ease some. She hadn’t known it was there, what with all the force of her lean muscles having the focus thanks to the bit of wind they were holding up in. “That’s fine news - let me know when the rest of our crew is all fastened in and I’ll get our cargo squared away at a steady freeze in the black.”

At her reply, Cal added, “Let’s not tempt fate in this storm. Take us up and out.”

Now that they were closed up and everyone was tucked in, new passenger included, Penelope let the wind rock back the head of the ship. The momentum pushed the China Doll’s nose up, loosening the tension the pilot had been straining against while they retrieved the person from the waves below. She spun the dual-engine thrusters in the release, pushing the throttle steady to get them above the clouds and on into the black. Riding at that angle made for some turbulence until they broke cloud cover, but she kept the jolting as minimal as she could without losing the trajectory. It’d make for a cleaner break, which she always appreciated.

[i]Fade to black.

Roll credits.[/i]