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:

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."

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"We go now." He looks behind, towards Tsybenko, and hopes that the snowmobile really is close. He looks ahead, and begins walking over the icecap.

From:

gone_byebye

It isn't all that far to the snowmobile; Tsybenko and his sailor come buzzing back over the ice fairly soon. "Okay," calls Tsybenko, shooing the sailor away. "Tin can captain! Put him on the back so you do not have to carry him. Kirk, the radio is worse than useless, but I have signaled the- what is that?"

Off in the distance, well away from their current heading someone's just painted the word HPLEH in fiery letters across part of the sky.

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"I think someone needs a spelling lesson. Someone needs help, Tsybenko." He doesn't think for very long. "Odds are that the Canadians saw the signal as well, so at least some of them will head that way. It might be better to rendezvous wherever than came from." Even though there is a chance that the Canadians didn't see the signal, but if nothing else, help will arrive.

From:

gone_byebye

Tsybenko nods and murmurs something to Lekishvili, who shouts the order to change course to the rest of the crew. It's remarkable how fast a group this size can change its destination given the proper motivation- and the pace they can keep up with a little encouragement. Some bright light in the group gets the idea to start singing as they move, and soon nearly everyone among the Sukhoy Nos crew's picked it up. Better than the Arctic silence, after all...

... at least, until there comes a point when an ear-splitting BRRRRABOOOM thunders up from just out of sight over the horizon behind them and the ice trembles underfoot.

There follows an even deeper silence after that, broken only by the sounds of an entire submarine crew pulling off their hats and holding them over their hearts.

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

Jim joins them. The demise of the Enterprise comes back to him. He was able to turn that from doom to survival (if not victory). He hopes that the sacrifice one brave engineer made will do the same.

He puts his hat back. He resumes walking.

From:

gone_byebye

Some time later, a blot on the horizon resolves into a Terrabus, painted in red and white and marked with the insignia of the Ministry of Extraordinary Threats. It pulls to a stop, and the driver- who looks absolutely exhausted, and smells of ozone and far worse things- pokes her head out the window. "Hi there!" she calls out. "I understand you gentlemen need a ride?"

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Yes, I believe we do," Jim says with a big smile. By now he feels like he's frozen, but is quite sure he's avoided frostbite. That's more than cane be said for the sailors, he's sure. "Did you see the signal flare calling for help?"

From:

gone_byebye

"Sure did," says the driver. "There's a couple of Finns headed out that way. I'm gonna have to make a couple of trips to get you all- got any wounded?"

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

Jim signals the crewmen to brings the wounded onto the bus first. "Do we have any obvious cases of frostbite," he calls to his translators?"

From:

gone_byebye

A few of the sailors are pushed forward at that. When all's said and done, fifty-six men, including the captain, Petliura, and the lieutenant, have all been loaded onto the bus. "We'll come back to get the rest of you soon as we can," the driver promises. "You look like you could use it."

From:

works-in-space.livejournal.com

"Between you and me, Miss, I really don;t like the cold. In fact, I plan to go someplace nice and warm." He just hopes that the ncie and warm doesn't come to him up here.

From:

gone_byebye

"No stealing my lines," Tsybenko says out of the side of his mouth.

The driver just laughs. "Fair enough. All right, I'm headed back to base- I'll come back soon as I can..."

And that, as they say, is that- at least until the Terrabus returns to take its next load back to the hangar where this all began.

Edited Date: 2008-02-02 07:46 am (UTC)