This Is Not A Test

[Angel]

Someone groaned somewhere, a low mewling sound that served to rouse Greg from his stupor. His eyes opened to near darkness, the only real light sources being a couple working computers, their square screens flickering repeatedly. All the bones in his body felt rattled and broken, a dull ache that throbbed throughout his entire body. Murmuring a curse under his breath, the Captain placed a bloody hand against the cold metal flooring and slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. As he moved, he could feel a jolt of pain explode in his shoulder. Clutching a hand to it, ignoring it for now, he looked out to assess the damage to the bridge.

It took him a couple seconds to realize that he wasn't sitting on the ship's actual floor. Instead, he was sitting on a wall. The ship was sideways. Greg pressed the palms of his hands against his face, his first thoughts rushing to the cargo. It was all upturned, now. The crates were probably smashed and broken, all the precious treasures scattered and unorganized in the loading dock. He took a moment to lean back, hands clasped in his lap, trying to take it all in. The rest of the bridge was scattered with debris, most of the stations smashed and broken. Somewhere further off, he could hear the faint whistle of clean air gusting into the ship and the low chirp of animals. The front screen must have been smashed open. He marked it in the back of his mind as a possible way to get out.

"Cap'n?" The familiar voice was located nearby, and Greg squinted against the dark to make out the form of one of his crew members. The man had a decent size shard of metal sticking out of his side, but he was seemingly still alive. Greg took in a slow intake of breath, struggling to get to his feet. They had a medic aboard, an older man who'd been more or less bullied into service on the ship, but Greg had no clue where to find the man at the moment. He couldn't do anything to help.

"Who's all alright?" He called out into the darkness. Hopefully the casualties weren't too high.

((Background = Here))

[Kaden]

Kaden ran a hand over the hull of his Falcon completely pissed. He'd been planning his escape for the past couple of days and had just been waiting for Duex to take a break. Kaden hissed and looked down at the hull of the ship. It was canted and he could no longer feel the buzz of working engines. He looked back up at his damaged Fighter and cursed the captain for clumsiness. How could you run into a planet. It wasn't like the things weren't big enough to spot from light years away.

He knew it was unfair. You couldn't exactly crash into a planet without cause. But his Falcon was damaged and his escape plans were ruined and he was in no mood to cut the captain and his crew slack.

Kaden looked over to the hangar doors. The ship was sound and the doors were firmly closed but they seemed to have crashed into a mountain because there was a spire of rock sticking through the hull next to the doors. It looked like a nasty tear. The metal around it was in shreds. But he'd learned something about ship repair. Not enough to serve as the crew on a Battlestar, that was never supposed to be his job, but he'd learned the basics. As nasty as it looked it shouldn't be too hard to patch up with the right tools.

"Alright," Kaden said with one last look at his beloved Falcon. "Time to go." There was no point in staying on the ship. Whatever planet he was on he was much more likely to get off of it and back to the fleet than he was to get off of Greg's ship.

He teleported up to the spire of rock and looked through one of the holes. It wasn't big enough to fit him yet but he was grateful to see stars and the outline of trees on the other side. And the air coming through seemed to be breathable. Cleaner actually then what he was used to. It almost reminded him of home.

He teleported back down to the hangar bay and searched around until he found a wrench and then he started to go to work.

[Deux]

Waking up in the hall was unsettling for Deux. The total loss of his surroundings and control in the darkness was something he was unfamiliar with. Even when he was sleeping he always had some sense of what was going on around him. Pushing that aside Deux stood and examined the halls from his location on the floor or rather wall.

Before standing, Deux tried to catalogue his injuries, seeing if he would cause further damage by moving. A sprained right wrist from when he tried to hold onto the opposite side as the ship began to turn, on the opposite side of his body, bruised ribs and possibly a dislocated shoulder. Nothing felt wrong with his spine or neck and since he woke up on his own the head injure probably wasn’t as severe as a concussion. With his injuries in order Deux stood and snapped his shoulder back into socket without some much as a flinch, then stretched like he’d woken up from a nap instead being thrown around in the metal halls.

He touched the left side of his face and felt semi-dried blood. Deux sighed and looked at his fingers as he rubbed them together. With all of his training, he had never been instructed on what to do in this sort of situation. Briefly he debated between returning to the brig or going to the bridge of the ship. It occurred to him that if the Captain and crew were dead his orders to watch Kaden no longer applied so he decided to inspect the bridge first.

Deux walked back a couple of paces before turning and running down the corridor toward the bridge. He cleared the gaps in the uneven floor sometimes with nothing more than long strides and progressed at a steady speed. The speed defiantly helped in jumping over the gaps that served as the other halls when the ship was right side up. There was the occasional crying out but Deux only acknowledge them as meaning some of the crew was still alive.

Getting to the bridge Deux found the emergency release. After forcing the door open he looked into the wreckage that had been the room. “Captian?” he called out calmly and waited to see if there was a reply.

[Bartelby]

"Lord Bartelby? Lord Bartelby? Are you in there? Please answer. I need some guidance." It was Patsey. He sounded panicked and like he was in pain.

"Yeah, I'm in here. Can you give me a hand? The door is sticking." Bartelby was taking a nap in his sleeping cubby (a bunk with four walls) when all the action started. And when the battle got a little bumpy, he figured it was a good idea to stay in there. But now he was laying against one of the walls of the cubby, trying to get the door open above him.

Eventually they got it open and Bartelby stood up. He got out and stood on the wall of his quarters. "I'm guessing whatever the captain was doing didn't turn out so well," he remarked flatly. Then he noticed that a bone was sticking out of Patsey's arm. "Ouch! How did that happen?"

"In the crash Lord Bartelby. I was not well secured and got thrown about. This is what I wanted to ask you about for guidance."

Bartelby just blinked at him for a few moments then slowly said, "You should probably find a medic." Patsey bowed humbly then immediately went over to the doorway and awkwardly slid down through it.

Bartelby briefly thought about what he himself should do, then threw on some nearby robes and grabbed his staff and also slid down through the doorway. He would see if he could find out what was going on. He would go search for the captain. Or failing that, one of his subordinates.

[Daxen]

Daxen was in a daze. His body ached, more than usual, and he was in utter darkness. A cold chill ran down his spine as he tried to feel his eyes opening and closing; sure enough, he seemed to be blind. Before he could give into despair, however, he did manage to see a flickering to save him from an embarrassing distress call. He wasn't blind after all, but what was that flick--? He remembered he had just exited the weapons room. Cursing under his breath he stumbled over, causing more pain, to the energy weapon and turned it off before it could cause real damage.

His eyes were now accustomed to the darkness now and he squinted around to see if any others were in danger of firing randomly. Seeing none, he took a moment to assess the situation: They crashed. As far as Daxen knew, there wasn't any alarm that sounded, though Daxen probably wouldn't even have noticed. There might be people who are seriously wounded, but Daxen didn't know the first thing about first aid.

Daxen knew that the best thing to do would be to look for survivors. Since he didn't know whether any local crazy natives have arrived, he stooped down to pick up a weapon and felt an intense pain at his side. "Oh no..." he moaned. He had broken a rib. He took a small breath of air and was thankful to find out that none of his lungs were punctured. He'll need to have someone take a look at it eventually, but for now he can get by. Careful not to upset anything else, he gently picked up the closest thing he could find that wasn't broken, in this case a light-weight glaive. Perfect. He also hid a gun inside his hoodie pocket, just in case. As much as he hated violence, he knew better than to go out there defenseless.

He gave himself another feel-over. A bleeding calf, broken rib, a small piece of metal in his left shoulder, and his bruise from his encounter with the brig cell from before the crash. His eyes flew open from their earlier dazed expression. Prisoners. Surely the crash had...oh shit! Though the ship was sideways, he could get a general idea of where to go to reach the brig. Where to find his courage though was a different story. Still, he was the one with the weapon. Using the darkness and confusion to his advantage, he sneaked on over to the brig.

[Richard]

Richard woke up in the mess hall on top of the fridge with a splitting headache and a dislocated shoulder. He used his good arm to push himself up so he could get a good look around to see what had happened. His left shoulder was the one out of socket and his mind was not clear enough to pop it back into place. He slowly got up and tried to gather himself. He felt a sharp pain in his leg and reached down to see what damage there was. He pulled a knife out of his calf and threw it to one side as he went to exit the room.

Richard made his way towards the weapons control room to get his personal weapons. After he did that, he would head towards the bridge to report in. He thought he had heard someone moving around, but did not want to encounter anyone that might have gotten on the ship during the crash. Richard opened the door to the weapons room and felt around for where he had placed his weapons. He also found a rag to bandage his leg with. It took him a little while to put on his holster and strap the bow and arrows with his damaged arm. He finally got himself set up and left for the bridge.

Richard took a long time to get to the bridge as he was trying to remember the layout of the ship. He had almost fallen in some of the gaps before making it to the bridge. When he got there he saw or thought he saw Deux standing in the room. His thoughts were confirmed when he heard Deux say captain. "Someone want to give me a hand with this?" He pointed at his left shoulder. Richard leaned against the wall and waited to see if either one was paying attention.

[Fitter]

As Fitter slowly drifted back into consciousness, the first thing she became aware of was a frosty cold that nipped at her cheeks. Has Yuki, the god of winter, graced us with an early snowfall this year? she vaguely wondered. Surely something had offset the balance of favor among the gods, for conditions this cold weren't expect until at least-

Her eyes flew open and she bolted up, knocking off dark strands in front of her face. Wait-lettuce? Why did she have the shavings on her head? Thoroughly confused, Fitter surveyed the room, only to discover the orientation of the room had flipped sideways. She lay against the silver wall, a thin layer of ice beneath her. Remnants of carefully stored food littered the floor, spilling from dozens of boxes. The girl groaned and attempted to roll over, only to flinch as a searing pain jolted through her leg. Freezing cold and injured. She shook her head as she examined her foot, hoping the movement would create warmth.

From her knowledge, it looked as if she had successfully managed to sprain her ankle. The base of her foot had started to swell, and while that meant her body had started the healing process, Fitter knew it would still take awhile to complete. An pack of ice might be helpful, she mused, looking around the room. She spotted one of the pre-made bags they saved for emergencies in the far corner and tried to crawl toward it. As she reached out her first hand, she discovered that a pack was already in her hand. Curious. Without regards to how it came to be there, she proceeded to rip off a strip of fabric from her indigo skirt and used it to wrap that pack firmly to the injury. Now to solve the cold problem.

If Fitter sat on one of the walls, that meant that the door...she looked up and frowned at the closed door above her. "Next time someone asks for carrots, they can get the box themselves," she huffed, attempting to balance herself as she stood. The only way out would be to climb on something. As painful as it sounded, freezing to death was her only other alternative. Reluctantly Fitter moved the largest box against the wall to begin building makeshift stairs. A brown, furry ball darted out from underneath and straight up her arms.

"Ero!" Fitter raised a hand to the creature shivering on her shoulders. "You poor thing. Did you get trapped under there?" She stroked its back for a moment before resuming her escape attempt. "Ero, you wouldn't happen to know why the room is sideways, would you? Do you think the whole ship is like that?" Who flipped a ship off balance? Did their pilot fall asleep? Fitter put the last box in place and grimaced at the sight of what she had to climb. If so, then maybe she could brew a tea that would keep him awake.

Ten minutes of excruciating pain later, the girl panted heavily as she rested against another wall. One hand rubbed her screaming ankle, and the other her freezing arm. Black spots danced in Fitter's vision, not clearing when she willed them away. "That's one more problem solved Ero," she whispered to her companion, both enjoying the drastic temperature difference. "I think we should try to find someone else though. Maybe they can wake the pilot up so he can put the ship back to normal."

Unfortunately, Fitter hadn't been on the ship long enough to know the location of every station. She didn't even know where to begin looking for the bridge, so she trudged slowly along the halls, holding onto the side for support. A flash of hope filled her as she recognized the door to the loading dock up ahead. People convened there, right? The repetitive clanging of something metallic confirmed her suspicions. With a whoosh the doors to the loading dock jerked open. Strange, she thought, noting that the regular smooth motion had vanished. Did the mechanics miss something on their inspections?

"He...hello?" Fitter shivered, cautiously looking about the area. "Anyone there?"

[Angel]

"No, no, push it that way," Greg ordered, pointing the other direction. A few crew members--uninjured and willing--were attempting to clear a pathway to the opening further off and find survivors. At his order, they heaved away a broken, bulky piece of the ship that was blocking their path. The rest of the crew on board the bridge, injured, were sitting in various positions around the Captain, groaning in pain and shivering. One of the crew members who claimed a small bit of medical knowledge was moving from person to person, attempting to tend to wounds. Greg himself was doing his best to ignore the awful pain in his shoulder, finding it more important to keep order and organization among the crew for the time being. It didn't stop him from wincing and gritting his teeth, the hand clutched against his shoulder twitching with the pain.

Another crew member had luckily been able to rummage an electric lantern from the hallway, and promptly had it set near the Captain and working crew. It cast a bizarre, bone-white light against the men, sinking into the folds and curves of clothes and faces. At the sound of voices, Greg's attention shifted over to the doorway where both Deux and Richard were standing. Snapping his fingers at Deux, and wracking his brain trying to remember the kid's name, he called over, "Dus! Help the man to get over here, would you? We've got a man that can look at that injury."

The moment he spoke, the emergency lights overhead sputtered on. The entirety of the damage flashed in front of them all briefly, before the lights flickered and gave out. One of the lights burst in the process, and a shower of sparks rained down on the far end of the room. The bridge was cloaked in near darkness once more, save for the lantern and a small flame that had erupted under the sparks. Greg shrugged off the jacket he wore, slowly peeling it from his injured left shoulder and tossing it to a nearby crew member. "There's a fire, put it out quick!" The man nodded and headed off to pick his way through the darkness. Greg turned back to men clearing a pathway, watching the progress.

[Kaden]

Ten tools later Kaden was getting a little discouraged. He'd tried to unscrew the panels around the breach with the wrench but he hadn't gotten very far. He'd unscrewed the inside panels but he couldn't touch the outer skin. So he'd went and gotten a blow torch to try to cut through the outer skin. But it was designed to withstand the heat and radiation of suns. One little blow torch wasn't going to do much good. He'd tried a dozen other things but all the tools inside the hangar bay were meant to work on smaller ships. Normally when a space ship needed to be repaired it docked and specialized tools were used. Either on planet, though working in gravity was difficult and sometimes impossible when it came to the larger ships, or at a space station. There were tools specially designed to work on the outer hull but Kaden didn't have them and if Greg did they weren't stored in here.

He put down the crowbar he'd used as a last resort. He hadn't thought it would work, after all it had taken a mountain to punch through the ships outer hull, but he thought maybe the skin would be weaker around the hull. He stood back on the crag of rock he was standing on and considered his problem. He wasn't going to make it out this way and this breach was blocking the door mechanism so he couldn't try to open the hangar bay. He'd have to make his way through the ship and hope he didn't run into anyone.

"He...hello? Anyone there?" Kaden's head whipped around when he heard the voice and he quickly teleported down to the hangar floor and behind his overturned and damaged fighter. He listened carefully to try to figure out who had joined him in the hangar bay, the crowbar still clutched in one fist.

[Fitter]

Fitter took a step forward into the loading dock before collapsing onto one of the nearby crates in pain. Her teeth ground together in an attempt to stop a scream from escaping her lips as the pain pulsing around her ankle intensified. If she didn't elevate it soon, it would only take that much longer to heal. No more makeshift ladders, no more hallways, and no more walking in general.

Her cold hands gripped the edge of the crate, fingers digging into the wooden surface. At least she had made it into the loading dock. Fitter's eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of the noise she had heard from outside. Only a rubbish ship and an assortment of tools and scrape metal littered upon the floor. No one. Had her fall impaired her ability to hear correctly?

"Someone?" Her voice fell to a whisper. "Anyone?" Losing hope, she glanced over to where Ero lay curled near her feet. At least she wasn't completely alone.

[Deux]

Deux glanced back at the man after he spoke. At first he just tilted his head and stared at Richard then his eyes shifted to his shoulder. He had been focused on establishing the Captain’s situation that Deux hadn’t given much mind to the crew around him. Giving Richard a hand he figured wouldn’t be a bad idea and was stepping toward him when he heard the Captain speak. He looked back over his shoulder Deux made a small sound of acknowledgement that the man was alive.

“Was he talking to me? My name is Deux by the way,” he said to Richard but didn’t look at him as he walked to his injured side. He wasn’t really expecting an answer to his question and he couldn’t remember if he even knew the man’s name. Usually he’d take the time to try and remember if he had but at the moment he was distracted. It was a rather preoccupying situation, ship being on it’s side and injuries.

“Stand still,” he told Richard and grabbed a hold of Richard’s left arm. One hand on his forearm the other around his triceps. Deux held Richard’s arm against the man’s chest and bent his elbow until it was at a ninety degree angle. Slowly he rotated his arm outward until the head of the humerus popped back in to the socket.

“I think the Captain wants us to go over to him,” he said before turning back to the bridge. “Do you require further assistance?”

He stepped through the wreckage of the bridge and took a second to examine the area. Deux noted that the fire was being taken care of and decided to ignore it unless it became a problem. The person tending to the others ran over and began babbling about his head and trying to touch it. Deux batted his hand away and sent him a mild glare.

“It’s not life threatening,” he stated in monotone, “If it becomes such I will tell you. Until then tend to others more gravely injured.” The man blinked and moved on to his next potential patient.

“What is it that you need of me Captain?” Deux asked when most of the distractions had cleared.

[Daxen]

Daxen was hopelessly lost. He was bleeding, the pain in his ribs was excruciating, and the ship wasn't properly lit nor was it even right-side-up. Thankfully the lack of humming caused by normal ship functions was absent, causing quite an echo in the halls. He heard a faint, "Someone? Anyone?" and picked up his pace. He didn't want to be alone either and was desperate for some human contact. And yet the darkness was strangely comforting to him.

He made his way to the dock and looked around. The pain and the lack of light made it difficult to focus his eyes, and he was starting to wonder if he was hallucinating, or even going into shock. He tried leaning in to get a better look at some spaces, but that only caused his broken rib to press harder, causing him to yelp in pain. He leaned on his borrowed glaive, but then that pushed the shard of glass deeper into his shoulder. He gave out another yelp and just fell to the floor in exhaustion.

Knowing that freaking out would only make the situation worse, he tried some deep, calming breaths. He looked around and finally said, "H-Hello? I-I-Is anyone there? P-Preferably someone who knows f-first aid?"

[Kaden]

Kaden watched the two young crew members as they stumbled into the loading dock. It was obvious both were injured and it was just as obvious that Daxen was carrying a weapon if not more than one. Kaden tried to harden his heart and turn away but after, not one, but two cries for help he silently cursed his own nature and teleported back to where he'd left the blow torch. He picked it up and then teleporting into the space directly over Daxen.

He turned on the blow torch, though it was lowly lit, and pointed it at Daxen's head and looked over at Fitter. "I am sorry that your captain and I are not on better terms but can both of you relieve yourself of any weapons you are carrying and toss them a good distance from you?" Kaden asked as politely as he could. "If you would do so, just for everyone's safety, I can assist with your injuries." He looked down at Daxen and saw the glass in his shoulder. "I would suggest you cooperate, if only for his sake," he continued, looking at Fitter. "Your ankle does not look life threatening but your injuries, Daxen, seem more serious. I would not see you suffer if it could be avoided."

[Fitter]

Fitter jumped as a loud crash shattered the silence of the room. Her eyes searched the darkness worriedly, wondering what had caused the noise. Something dangerous? A whimper reached her ears; she knew that voice!

"Daxen? Is that you?" she whispered. A moment later a flame appeared to her right, revealing an injured Daxen and miffed Kaden. Wait-how had he escaped the cell? Strangely, Fitter discovered that she wasn't entirely worried about the prisoner standing over them; from her knowledge Kaden was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. While UIR officers tended to be intimidating, she didn't get the feeling that here, now, in this situation, she and Daxen could be safe.

She nodded at Kaden's request that any weapon be discarded. Unfortunately, no one had ever given Fitter any object to defend herself with. Knives generally weren't allowed out of the kitchen. "Of course," she replied, teeth chattering. With her good foot, she nudged the ferret on the floor. "Ero, nake cleta," she commanded. Immediately the brown bundle of energy scurried out of the room in search of the item she had asked for. Months earlier Fitter had created a serious of orders that only she and the ferret understood. It came in useful, from time to time.

Her eyes softly followed her friend's exit from the room before returning to the officer. "There, I have no other weapons. Please help him, if you could. I have slight medical experience, but it is of little help on a ship." If they were in the forests back home, Fitter could have helped the boy immediately. Unfortunately she hadn't learned the location of the remedial herbs quite yet.

[Kaden]

"I will if I can Di," Kaden said with a slight nod, listening to the sounds of the ferret fade away as it scurried down the hallway. He would have felt more comfortable treating the ferret than any human. He'd worked in a veterinary care facility when he was a young boy and he could stitch flesh back together in a pinch before he got to the fleet. Basic field medicine had been part of his training when he'd joined the fleet but he'd never excelled at it or learned anything more than was needed to keep someone alive until they could be seen by a certified medical officer. He assumed the ship had one or so he hoped.

"Daxen," Kaden said, looking down at the young man. "Would you please allow me to disarm you so that I may treat your injuries?"