Upper Path - Bridge
The Overseer pulled their hand away from the bridge supports, eyeing the metallic dust caught between her fingers passively. The light staff thrown against her rolled off without a passing glance, hitting the ground with a bounce. The hefty lightbulb was, however, fully intact.
The Overseer turned about with their own findings, only to find the small pilot by her side.
"Kerolyne is a rare development. No one's certain where or how the Arcadian's obtained the mass required for their ballistics." OSC-01 paused for a moment, taking a bit of time to recall any onboard information on it.
"The New Nepherian Order once staged a raid on a powder mine during the War... They brought back much, but the mine was destroyed in the process. A total loss for the Arcadians."
The Overseer fell quiet once more, looking down at the metallic coating once more. Something was off.
---
The crew investigating the shipping platform made their way down the slope to find the metal platform bolted to the wall via heavy concrete and metal supports. The catwalks that once spanned from the platform to other locations were degraded and dangerous- but still an option. A single fire escape shaft lead to the cavern floor, though anyone trying to use it had better take gloves. The entire place appeared to be constructed in a rather..
. ad-hoc fashion. The tunnels themselves seemed sound to this day, but everything else appeared to be thrown together without a long-term safety plan. Even the spanning bridges appeared to have structural issues, some sagging and cracking near the middle.
There were two large containers of interest, as well as several barrels. One barrel laid busted underneath a fallen rock, it's contents long spilled and leaked away. A closer inspection around the seams of the barrel reveled a thick coagulated gunk of black material- some variety of crude oil.
The first of the two containers was held in place by a keyed padlock. Given the variable moral compass of the crew, it was an incredibly easy break-in.
Inside of the container was some kind of mining equipment, fastened in place by blaze orange straps. Among the wealth of equipment were picks, jackhammers, and other small equipment. One item of particular
interest was some kind of large, two-handed piece of equipment. It was held much like a Gatling gun, though it held an appearance much like that of some kind of cannon. It was wide, bulky, with a stubby barrel holding a blender-like apparatus within it. It was unclear what purpose the equipment held, but what was clear was how heavy it was. It was meant to be held by one person, but none of the crew held the strength to hoist the equipment more than a few moments.
The next container in line was much heavier, well armored. There was no padlock on this one, but rather a heavy metal door held firmly in place by heavy locking lugs. The only signs of an input was a dead series of lights on the side panel near the front, and a pair of incredibly complicated keyways. The side of the box was labeled with bold-lettered Arcadian text in white and yellow. After a moment, the delayed translation came through from the Overseer.
"VEX IV"
---
Dahlia took a lean against the bridge's support structure, holding her radio and ear out into the open cavern for the best reception. Even then, it took a minute to process the static-laden speech.
"Call-sign Dahgan, this is Vigil One. Do you read?"
"Ever day, Vigil One," the Captain replied somewhat sarcastically
, "This is Dahgan."
"Your ships last projected signals were from the Trayll system. Correct?" "Correct, though we're fi-"
"Then you're near the Enpala sector. How quickly can you pack up for an investigation?"
Dahlia paused for a moment, the interruption catching her with a bit of wide-eyed surprise. The captain glanced at her surroundings, then replied.
"Not anytime soon. We're hundreds of meters underground here. What's the situation?"
The voice on the communicator replied, coming in and out of signal.
"Shipping freighter Vespar II was last reported passing through the Enpala sector en route to the capital of Tropinello Prime. They experienced an act of aggression from an unknown ship. Their last transmitting was an open call for landing on a nearby planetoid, but we haven't heard anything back. We need someone to run an investigation and possible asset recovery job, and you're our closest cargo-class ship."
Dahlia turned pale- moreso than usual. She knew who captained the Vespar II. After a moment choking on air, she captain solemnly replied.
"I'm sorry Vigil One, but we're in a little too deep of a find to pack up in time."
Vigil One responded after a moment.
"Understood. We're rerouting the nearest interceptor-class to catch up for recon. If we do need recovery, you may still be on short call."
Dahlia sighed.
"Understood. Dahgan out."
And so the captain returned to the crew, her mood soured by the news. The captain took a careful step on the bridge, and then another- checking for structural integrity. Once reassured, she started walking along the pathway, gazing out at the statue in the distance, anything to take her mind off the call.
Maintenance Shack A
After intense deliberation, the two in the shack decided that no one was around to scold them for
investigating the lockers. In fact, it wasn't even much of a trial. The semi-solid of echyllis lazily bobbing around the small demi-alien had found itself wedged in the side crack of the lockbox. After a few moments and a spark, the door popped open. A small substance alarm flickered from the inside of the locker door, coming from a battery powered speaker. It wasn't very loud, and sounded on the verge of death.
On the inside panel of the locker was a list of warnings placed in black Arcadian text over a red background. The translation didn't come in for a while, but it eventually revealed a broken translation. "NO LIVE ECHYLLIS STORAGE." Alcohol was also prohibited.
Inside the locker was a bundle of laminated paper tubes, held together by heavy velcro. A small bag also laid in the bottom of the locker, filled with a variety of metal hand tools that didn't quite fit right in either of the adventurers hands.
Lower Path
Keith had to climb a bit to get to the next shack. It was elevated off the ground more than its partner, but a bit of tricky positioning allowed him to get up to the platform. The door to this shack was however locked, and the lack of windows proved to be a more secure challenge.
An investigation around the platform yielded a few options. The shack sat rather snug against the cavern wall, but in its age had pulled away. Keith could see a crevace that ran back behind the building, leading to some kind of connecting hall between the building and.... whatever was inside the wall. The floor panels beneath the building were sealed up right, but the metal roof could still prove weak.
Upper Path - Plateau
The giant metal door in front of Reman was painted with white Arcadian script, but the letters had become too faded to be translated. The heavy metal door wasn't willing to budge, but with all his might it began to shift. Pressing between the two sides of the seal, the door eventually began to slide on its ratcheted tracks. Two or three heavy clicks echoed throughout the cavern before the door stopped, unable to move any farther. It was a tight gap, but enough for Reman to slide through it with ease.
Inside of the door was a very dark room, filled with all variety of chairs, desks, and consoles, A set of large, thick glass panels sat at the end of the octagonal room, long since dead. There were all manners of desks and input equipment about the room, but the lack of power made the consoles currently useless. A large vent sat above the room, one that had a certain stink emanating from it...
The Hunt
Juryrig looked down at his scanner, tracking the creatures path about the Defile. The man looked up from the device, looking into the dark conduit the beast ran off into from his position hanging from the wiring running across the
top of the cavern.
Wait, how did...
Just, nevermind. Juryrig leapt from the cables into the open plastic tube, which provided just enough space to move around in at a crouch. The wires and cables of the conduit had been torn and strewn about, with a pile of organic much resting in the ribbed floor. He was now hot on the tail of the beast, moving about the darkened conduit with nothing but a mission, the items on his person, and a tracker. The conduit was a little too narrow to bring his full sack of goodies with him.
???
Farther down the cavern, close to the imposing statue, two figures emerged upon a bridge. The dragon and the crystalline woman. The leader of the two placed their deformed hand above their unequal eyes, staring out into the cavern to find the source of the ruckus. She brought down an orange lens over her good eye, magnifying the distant circus that was now parading through their work site.
The woman let out an annoyed groan, pulling out a communicator.
"Plague Doctor to Captain. Did you send company?" There was an annoyed, strained tone to her words.
"Captain to Plague Doc, that's a hard no," affirmed the rather casual voice from the other end.
"Then you may need to see this." 'Plague Doc' Raised a gloved finger to the device mounted to the side of their looking lens sending a picture of the distant troupe to whoever was at the end of the line.
"Shoot." "Which one?"
"Figure of speech, purps. Just try and, run them off. I'll see what I can do from here."
The woman scowled, glancing about. She looked back at the dragon behind them. The spoke rashly, tapping the communicator on her ear to mimmick where his
should be
. "We have visitors. Make them go away, or at least find out why they're here. "