[center][h2]Scattered[/h2][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/VLybp5R.png[/img] [/center] JP from [@Xandrya] and [@sail3695] If you were to size up the crew of China Doll to pick out her fighters, there’d be some right obvious choices. Her steely eyed captain would always make the cut, along with the fiercely countenanced mechanic and the tattooed giant who took the pilot’s chair. A sharper eye might detect the taut discipline in every movement of the boat’s medic. Then, there was the quick drawing deckhand who was keen to uphold her family’s business. But the First Mate would never catch anyone’s eye as an example of fighting prowess for the Buddha’s own truth that he simply wasn’t one. Though Yuri had raised a pistol as a member of China Dol’s crew, he’d never been called on to throw hands or stand in threat of doing violence, a bluff that he knew would most like inspire naught but laughter. And now, here he was, on the surface of a lifeless rock with dwindling air and who knew how many Reavers looking at him in the boat at the other end of that searchlight’s beam. For a second, there was paralysis. They were almost on top of him. He squinted, trying to make out some details of the dusky predator swooping in upon him from behind the glare of that awful beam. Few details emerged. The boat was trim and crisp, a broad delta shape whose winglike edges clipped downward toward the tips, sheltering a pair of atmo engines. She didn’t appear large enough for cargo. But for the midnight black coloration, he’d have tagged her as some sort of pleasure craft. The raider didn’t carry any traditional Reaver gore as hull decorations. As she closed upon him, all that he could make out was a name, large print glowing like hot coals. [i][b]Scalded Dog[/b][/i]. [i]RUN![/i] his mind fairly screamed, the message eventually translating to his body. Yuri bolted, crabbing sideways into the sheltering darkness. The light beam jerked afterward, catching up to him as he tried to sprint clear. “Listen up,” he huffed into his mic as the merciless beam dogged his heels. “I’m gonna lead them away. You two get out of sight.” Her eyes met those of the deckhand's, the brief silence like the calm before the storm. "Don't keep us waiting," was all Imani could say as she peered at the depth below. "We have to move too." Abby may be just a kid, but she was glad that the girl had the maturity of someone twice her age as that was certainly needed in these life or death scenarios. And with that, Imani began to ease her way down. She sat adjacent to the snuffler then pivoted to begin her descent, guiding herself with slow, calculated movements. Little by little, Imani worked her way down, using the snuffler as support. Some time passed before she eventually reached the end. The woman paused to look down, realizing the given estimate had been pretty accurate. After a quick exhale, she let go and slowly floated downward, her eyes fixed on the girl on the surface. Gettin’ hid made a pasel ‘o’ sense, even if it meant takin’ a mighty leap down onta that old container down there. Fer a spell, Abby hung onta tha snuffler’s bulky metal intake…she an’ Imani had turned it upside down to make the handgrips dig into the ground. Trouble was, they wasn’t diggin’. She put ‘er weight atop the contraption, holdin’ it steady as Imani went down hand over hand. In the distance, them Reavers was hard after Yuri. She watched as two figures dropped down from their boat, dead set on makin’ a proper foot race of it. The snuffler went slack; Abby’s gaze met Imani’s as the medic dropped down. “Lookin’ good, Doc,” she said of the trajectory. A tick or two passed before Imani’s boots touched down clean on the end cap. What happened next brought the girl’s jaw to drop. Without warning, to poly fiber surface beneath Imani’s boots came alive. A spidery network of cracks crazed outward in all directions, before the brittle material gave way altogether. Imani fell into the darkened container, her helmet lights glancing off the walls and remnants of cargo straps disturbed from centuries’ old slumber by their passage. She soon reached the bottom, a full ten meter drop to the front end, her fall abruptly ceased by the worn strands of a heavy nylon cargo net. “Doc!” Abby cried out as the woman disappeared into the darkened confines of the container, along with the brittle shards of the ancient poly fiber end cap. “Imani! Yuri!” she called out urgently. “The container gave way! Imani fell inside!” There wasn't a warning; not a single clue preceding her sudden fall into the container. Imani let out a gasp, attempting to reach for something to hold on to but nothing was within grasp. A few moments later and her fall was stopped by a netting of some sort. She was breathing hard from the scare, the beam of light following wherever she looked, though all else was black as night. "Abby, I'm okay..." No sense worrying them. Imani had landed on her behind and she remained on it. At first glance, nothing in there seemed too beyond the ordinary. But then she caught a glimpse of the large hole off to her right. It almost looked like something had broken its way out by force. That was slightly alarming. Even more alarming were the large scratch marks on either side of the hole. She stared for a moment, and it took her some time to realize the dark splatters also surrounding the hole looked a whole awful lot like blood. Imani got to her feet after catching her balance. She looked behind her and thank Buddha nothing else concerned her 'cept for the mess left behind by whatever made that hole. "Hey, something was already here. Something...feral." From above, Abby could hear Imani, but weren’t squat to be seen ‘cept the twin pinpricks of light from her helmet lamps. They’s movin’ about, some proof offered that the Doc’s assurances wasn’t just hollow brevity. Least for the moment, she could call ‘erself proper hid. Trouble would be gittin’ her…them…outta there if the deckhand found ‘er way down inta that inky blackness alongside the medic. She’d just turnt tah spy how Yuri might fare dodgin’ them Reavers when Imani knocked ‘er right off ‘ert pins. “Feral?” Abby knew the word; for sure had come across it more’n once in umpteen different books. But this time, actually sayin’ it, and in a sitchiation what really mattered, she caught herself all struck over how five little letters could add to an already powerful chill workin’ down her nethers. “Yah mean like a wild thing?” she asked, not knowin’ what else there was to offer. A quick nod in response. "Exactly like a wild thing." Imani did her best to remain upright as she moved forward a little closer, the net making each step a challenge to balance. As she moved, so did her headlamp. “Feral,” Yuri grunted in response. Just two seconds prior he’d been on the knife edge of panic. These Reavers were smart, putting numbers on the ground to fan out and prevent him doubling back in the dark. Now, with the rock wall less than a half click ahead and the hunters driving him toward it, he’d come to the conclusion that unless he found a miracle escape they’d soon have him in their clutches. But Imani could be in even more serious trouble, a notion which dealt him an even greater fright. He had to think. That container left Earth-That Was some four hundred twenty-five years ago aboard the Gossamer. After being jettisoned, it would’ve crash landed here just over three hundred years ago. A long time in total vac… “What are you seeing, Imani?” "Uh... Quite a number of crates busted open," Imani turned the other way, "leaving a big ol' mess in every inch of this place. I'm guessing prior to whatever broke out, well, [i]broke out[/i], it got itself involved in quite the struggle. That or it lost its temper." Whichever instance was true, Imani figured she might as well investigate a little further. She made her way to the end of the net and eased herself on down, stepping on one of the few crates that was intact. "I'm gonna be honest as a dog, that blood on the side of the container got me not feeling right... But Yuri, how are you managing?” “Gonna be shiny,” Yuri lied. The Reavers had some kind of weapons. They trained ‘em like rifles, but what came out was more akin to a tent spike. His engineer’s brain puzzled over the propulsion theory, while the rest of him reeled in fresh terror at getting impaled or having his suit lanced open in the vacuum. Either way, with the wall coming up ahead and the boat dropping onto its’ skids behind, this part of the game was nigh on close to checkmate. “Abby,” the First Mate said, “listen up. I marked the tool kit and the oxygen tanks with glow sticks. Come pick ‘em up when the coast is clear, [i]dohn mah[/i]?” Lamps flickered from behind. For a second, Yuri could see his own shadow in the confused jostle of light. One of the lethal spikes embedded itself in the dusty soil at his feet. He grabbed the little projectile before leaping clear to avoid any other shots. There were more helmet lights. Three, now four Reavers out of their boat, all making for him. Yuri propelled himself toward the wall. He wasn’t a fighter…his older brother Ivan had drilled that into his head. But now he had no choice.