U.P.M.C. Ferrum [Inactive]

"Trust me, you have no idea how good getting out of here sounds. We still need to get Deck 8, but there are fewer rooms locked, and none of them are at any threat of running low on air. I'll let your little team take care of that while I go to mine. Enjoy the booze and... I got the underling message of what you said. It's not your fault, however it happened. Alright, gotta run." And Warik forgot about that terrible alarm, in the rush of being needed to do some work and save lives.
 
Alaric nodded as Warik ran off, before sighing and beginning to walk back towards deck 9, passing by some of the team he had brought up with him. Eventually, he reached the deck, sitting the man down with his back against the wall, before sitting down beside him.


"One hell of a day huh?" he asked, slipping his helmet off and taking a deep breath of fresh air. The drunk man simply groaned, his head lolling to one side.


"You said it buddy," Alaric nodded, before raising the bottle of alcohol to his lips.
 
The two-man rescue team had not seen the doctor or the woman they had left on the floor. Once back at deck nine, they found him hunched over the woman, holding a plastic tube leading into her mouth. They heard words like "cerebral hypoxia," "respiration failure," and "condition is stabilizing" amid the medical chatter of Grigory and the two medical crew present. He had been told to rest, but apparently that was not something he could do while there were still people in need.
 
"How's it...going?" Alaric asked, walking over towards Grigory and standing beside him, swaying slightly. The near empty bottle of alcohol was still clutched in his hand as he grinned lopsidedly.
 
Grigory removed the respiration tube from his patient's mouth and tossed it into a disposal chute.


"You should not be drinking," he chided. "The danger may not be over. Alcohol is diuretic. Increases blood pressure. We need our minds with us now."


Though Alaric had not interacted with the doctor much, he had always seemed to him a meek, quiet person. The man in front of him was quite different. It certainly seemed as if Grigory had experience with treating the injured in a crisis.
 
"You're just no fun," Alaric grinned back. "Alcohol makes things better, especially during crisis's, or crisises. Crisesisisis?" Alaric began to muble to himself as he tried to work out the right suffix to go with his word, before turning back to the doc. "You're...you're too calm for this. You're like...me on a good day. Have you...hic...seen combat or something?"
 
A steel wall seemed to slam down between the two.


"That is not important," Grigory said, deflecting the question. "Where is the captain? I need to get my team together, find beds, make a triage station. He is not dead, is he?"
 
"Nah, the Cap's not dead," Alaric shook his head, taking a final swig from his bottle. "I last saw him when...the thingy crashed into the ship."


he looked down at the bottle as he tried to take another sip, before finding that it was empty and sighing. "Don't suppose...you have any more?"
 
"No," he replied, "and neither will you. Can you carry this woman? She is stable, only sleeping now. I am going to find the captain. He will be where the survivors are. I would guess that they have gathered in the mess hall on this deck?"
 
Felix stumbled through the crowd wearing the bottom half of a maintenance suit holding his communicator in one hand and running his other hand through his hair. He'd been roaming the triage on deck nine and looking at ship diagnostics. He caught glimpse of Grigory and Alaric. The look in his eyes was solemn and 
distant as he approached the two
 
"Eh, probably for the best," Alaric sighed, before nodding and picking up the woman. "He's probably around the mes hall area, something like that. Wait...no, he's just here."


Alaric turned to face the Captain, placing the woman over his left shoulder and giving Felix a slightly sloppy salute. "Captain. Nice to...hic...see you again."
 
"Captain," Grigory called, "Have we established a medical center? I need all of my staff, my supplies, and the wounded in one place."
 
He looks to Alaric "ye...yeah." He then looked to Grigory. "Yes, the entire common area is in the process of being turned into the best medical center we can provide at the moment. There's a lot of wounded though and we're running out of cots. Our best course of action would be taking them from crew quarters. We also need to get any supplies we can from the upper deck first aid stations. Your staff is mostly already there or in other parts of the ship working to save whoever they can. We can try to rally them up but most of them would rather be out saving those in worse condition than the ones we could get to here."
 
Grigory turned to Alaric. "I need your help," he said, "Please come with me. Do not worry, captain, my team will listen to me. We will get more cots."


With that, the doctor strode purposefully toward the common area, all signs of fatigue gone.
 
"Guess I'll go with the doc then," Alaric chuckled, looking at the captain. "I can get more cots, I'll...I'll head out when Grigory's finished with whatever he needs...my help with. Then maybe we can get this shit straightened out."


Alaric let out a sigh, before following the doc, the sleeping woman still over his shoulder.
 
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"we can hope" Felix waited a moment before following them. He felt worried of what people were thinking of him. He wanted a drink and a time machine to go back to before all of this shit happened. Intergalactic headlines are probably calling this one of the greatest mining disasters in the past century. It's probably overtaking news about the war. It didn't matter, he would have to worry about the press backlash later. For now he needed to help whoever he could
 
Dusk quickly ran though the corridors of deck nine, attempting to find the captain.


His breath slowing, he could feel the toll of the situation on his artificial lungs. They breathed heavy, and the memories of the day on his home planet flooded into his mind.


"Not time for that now, I must find the captain." He muttered, "I have found something important that he must know about."


Slowing to a fast walk, Dusk entered the main room. The smell of blood filled he nostrils, and the sight off all the injured hit him like a freight train.


"So much damage, so much death." he muttered again. "Something is not right here, there is something we are missing."


Turning to face the captain, Dusk spoke, "Captain, I've got some good news... and I've got some bad news."
 
In the common area, the medical crew rallied to Grigory like soldiers to their general. He assigned some to stay and tend to the patients and others to search for survivors, supplies, and cots in teams of two. He asked Alaric to stay in the commons and assist the med team in any way he could. There were plenty of people and cots to be lifted. Once all had their assignments, he set right back to caring for the wounded.
 
Alaric busied himself helping with whatever the orderlies asked of him, mostly carrying items to and fro between different patients. The smell of blood and death was thick in the room, and Alaric realized it probably wasn't a good sign that he'd become accustomed to the smell over the course of his life. Still, it did have the effect of helping to clear his head slightly, and he began to work with more of a purpose.


"How are we doing for cots?"
 
"Er, I have a few here," Alaric offered, pulling out his field dressing kit. "I'm guessing that's not going to help much though is it?"
 
"Ok, bad news first. The contact that I was able to reach said they have no clue how this could have happened, and she can't send any aid." He sighed, "Sadly, that means that our help will be limited, it even present."


"However," He continued, "I think I might know what happened." Pausing, he looked up to the captain.


"Something went wrong down there, my optical scanners show that. And by the look of your face, you knew that already. But what you might now know, and, might be surprised to hear, is I think that we were sabotaged. I guess that is good news if you think about it in a positive way..."
 
Alaric stopped what he was doing with the patients, turning to look at Dusk and Felix, shaking his head as he walked over.


"Alright, now I know I must have misheard that. Did you say sabotage?"
 
"who would sabotage a mining ship?! Half the people on this vessel could care less about the U.P.A. Its not like were soldiers. This day just keeps getting fucking better and better now doesn't it?!" Felix holds his palm to his forehead in frustration and begins pacing.
 
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