gone_byebye | (no subject)

Mid-January, 2008
RCMP/Ministry of Extraordinary Threats Emergency Hangar
Alert, Nunavut, CA

Even in times of the highest tension and most danger, people find ways to keep themselves busy, and neither the Ghostbusters nor the men and women of the world's northern watch bureaus were any great exception. "Ray? Ray! Ray, check it out." Venkman shook his friend's shoulder. "Egon's in a fight with one of the Inquanok guys."

Ray opened an eye and glanced sideways. Several of the Danish contingent and a couple of the Pohjola Project's Sami members were gathered in a semicircle centered on Egon and a broad-faced, dark-eyed man in Danish uniform. "Wow. Spengs is looking kinda..."

"Green," Winston finished for both of them. "That's freaky. What are they fighting about?"

"The worst thing they've ever eaten," said Venkman. "Eske's winning."

Ray and Winston exchanged glances. They both knew Egon's eating habits. "How?" Ray finally asked.

"That's not food," Egon suddenly said, loud enough to be heard over the snickering Greenlanders. "That's biological waste. You can't consider anything with that level of ammonia in it to qualify as edible."

"This from the man who admits to eating casu marzu," said his opponent with the serene smile of a man who knows he's won. "Hákarl is nothing-"

Winston shook his head. Ray gave up on the possibility of a nap and stood up. "Has anyone seen where Captain Korpan went?" he asked, and one of the Finns pointed. "Thank you."

He found the Canadian in the tiny office attached to the hangar, one hand pressing his headset against his ear and the other taking frantic notes. As Ray walked in Korpan lifted his eyes, winced, and held up a piece of paper that read:

Magnetic fields flaring
Deep ones report Russian helicopter near 82.7° N 114.4° W
Radio comms dorppinng like brick

A moment later Korpan scribbled one last line:

Dammit, I can spell. Marines on the way. Tell the others. We're going in.

Ray shuddered, nodded, and went in search of a better door.

[OOC: Assume everyone will be arriving from Milliways within five minutes of each other. Also, don't click on the food links above if you have a weak stomach.]

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From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Damn." Kirk follows Lua'al-rei's lead. And hopes that there isn't about to be a meltdown. Or worse.

From:

gone_byebye

Tsybenko gets to his feet and gestures for Apalkov to take the lead, but the engineer shakes his head and throws back a sharp, short answer. Tsybenko winces, nods, and starts running. Whether he has the breath to answer questions about what he was just told or not is a little uncertain.

It's amazing, really, how much shorter the distance is the second time you cover it...

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

He knows what the engineer said.

They say a captain goes down with the ship. That's not true. It's the engineer who does.

From:

gone_byebye

The Deep One vessel is crowded with Russians and smells of panic, both human and otherwise. In the instant that Starshina Petliura shows his face, the questions start; they get louder and more insistent as the other humans appear. Lua'al-rei, nearly as pale as when he first spoke of Dagon, is more interested in closing the hatch and elbowing his way through the crowd to get to the control areas of the vessel. This time there's a definite feeling of acceleration when they start moving.

Somewhere out there, on the other side of the vessel's pearlescent shell, things are beginning to rumble and boom.

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Status report," Jim asks to no one in particular. He's just used to getting one immediately.

From:

gone_byebye

Tsybenko would translate, but Petliura is apparently already on the case, snapping orders at various terrified-looking Russians. Eventually he turns around and says something to Tsybenko. "Captain Pisarev is unconscious, fourteen of the men are injured, but beyond that all are accounted for," Tsybenko says tersely. "Except Captain-Lieutenant Apalkov and the two who were left with him."

Several of the Russians have found the lateral display. The rapidly changing fields give the impression of the pearlship heading for the surface at maximum safe velocity- and of something not so far from the size of a whale following hot on its heels.

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

The irony is lost on Kirk. He never knew that Khan saw his ship as Moby-Dick. So the whale to be in pursuit...perhaps from Hell's heart, the dead warlord spits anew at his foe.

But all that is on Kirk's mind is that apparently the rift has been breached. "It's Dagon."

From:

gone_byebye

"So it seems," says Tsybenko, eyes on the display. "I could ask, but-"

He gestures eloquently; there's not a Deep One in sight.

"Is moving fast. I hope for all our sakes we are faster."

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

Jim just takes a seat again. He hates being a passenger.

From:

gone_byebye

He won't have to be one for long. The pearlship is rising swiftly- not swiftly enough to suit the Russians, who're variously staring, praying, or cursing, but still swiftly. And, yes, increasing the distance between itself and Dagon.

As the surface line approaches, the door to the room full of humans opens, and a visibly trembling Lua'al-rei peers through. "As soon as we breach," he says hoarsely, holding onto the wall as if it were the last real thing in the world, "all of you are to leave the vessel and head westward. The Canadians are sending someone to meet you. But you have to go- we-" He grimaces, gills flaring widely. "-can't hold out much longer. Are you ready?"

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

Jim nods grimly. "And what about you?"

From:

gone_byebye

"There are four hundred thousand years' worth of Deep Ones scattered across the seafloor of the entire Atlantic Ocean," says Lua'al-rei. "Three thousand generations of us have never known Dagon. I am not about to turn the oceans over to him without a fight." With a visible effort, he flattens his gills out. "Don't expect to see us again."

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"It was good to have met you." He would salute or say "live long and prosper," but neither seemed appropriate. He knows that the crew of this strange ship will not be prospering.

From:

gone_byebye

Lua'al-rei nods and makes a gesture not unlike certain Middle Eastern salutes before turning and closing the door behind him.

When it irises open again, a shaft of shimmering light cast by an aurora over the ocean illuminates the ladder to the outer hatch.

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

As the hatch opens, the captain makes a decision. "Tsybenko, I hate to do this but...I have some experience as a commander in my...other career. And with their captain out, I think we need to, if not take charge, do our best to move things along. I think, in fact, we haven't much time." He really doesn't care if this is stepping on some toes.

From:

gone_byebye

Tsybenko shrugs. "Is fine by me. I am not tin can sailor. Your orders, sir?"

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Yes, but you have to explain it to them," Jim says with just a hint of humor in his voice. "Make sure that the wounded have at least one sailor to help them, two to carry the unconscious. Find out what gear, if any, anyone managed to grab.

"And tell them that we'd best get moving fast. I suspect that night is not far off, and you and I are the only ones with winter gear.

"Oh, and does it seem like we are anywhere near your snowmobile?"

From:

gone_byebye

Tsybenko nods and starts talking rapidly to the sailors, Petliura in particular. It would appear that the Chief Ship Starshina is in fact the most senior officer currently operational. As the sailors start grouping up in an orderly fashion, Tsybenko says, "Not far. Is only big hole in ice for any kind of distance. You were wanting to run someone out to meet the Canadians Mr. Fish spoke of?"

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"I was thinking more of seeing if we left anything there we could use, like a radio. I don't know if sending anyone besides you ahead would be of much use. Unless someone else is trained to drive it." Even in the gear, Jim begins to feel the cold again.

From:

gone_byebye

"Ah. That, yes, that we have," says Tsybenko. "And if the radio does not work, they gave us heliographs. I looked, before we sat. And flashlights, if the sun is not enough. Very considerate, the Canadians."

The Russians are piling out of the pearlship in the most orderly panicked exit ever seen north of the thirty-eighth parallel. The vessel is emptied within moments- and in the instant that the last sailor clears the hatch, it closes of its own and begins to sink out of sight.

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Take one of the sailors with you. But before you do, see if anyone speaks any English." Not because he's worried that Tsybenko won't return so much as it doesn't hurt to have someone to help, just in case.

From:

gone_byebye

After some questioning, a lieutenant named Nikoloz Lekishvili allows that he speaks a little English. Tsybenko grabs one of the other sailors at random and stumps off across the ice. Lekishvili glances skyward, then looks at Kirk. "He said you were Navy once," he says, his accent more than a little off from the Russian sounds Kirk is probably used to. "Where to go now, sir?"

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Detached service, but yes, navy." If pressed, he'll just borrow some of what Admiral Calavicci told him. "We start walking inland. With any luck, the Canadians will find us soon."

He'd make a speech. A short one, but one to rally the men in adverse conditions. But what good is a speech if no one understands?

From:

gone_byebye

"All right," says Lekishvili, almost amiably. His volume when he turns and bellows the orders to his fellow crewmen is astounding; the man has lungs that belong on an aircraft carrier, not in a sealed environment.

After a moment he says to Kirk, "We go now."