Keroman
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Posts posted by Keroman
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No, I never needed any medical treatment that round. It was just me and the Blueshield at that point and we had literally just incinerated one changeling (who tried to monkey out of the cuffs but was still surrounded so he had no way of escaping) and then we heard you and the CMO calling for help over the radio and since we were nearby we thought we were helping out by coming to the CMO's aid.
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Well mid-round antag is a thing so while I definitely noticed you had only recently arrived I couldn't make assumptions based on that, and even if I did it would be metagaming. I really should have questioned why the CMO was in the maint tunnels in the first place but with all the Captain's BS going on and the shuttle docking shortly we had to make hasty decisions which turned out wrong. At the least I should have had the Blueshield cuff you and drag you to the shuttle brig alive. It was very wrong of me to order your execution on the CMOs word alone, especially just being the NT Rep and not the Warden or something with the correct authority to do that sort of thing.
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Heya, still sorry for beheading you the other night as a suspected changeling.
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Howdy! You'll probably see me around as Maxwell Edison, MAX Ed-OS-n, or BEST VOXXY NT REP YAYAYA Yakihikraekhekh.
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A gateway to a mirror - image version of the Cyberiad where the entire crew has all been slaughtered in horrifying fashion. The few weapons that might be found are out of energy or ammo. There's no consistent theme to how the crew was killed - some have been gutted, some have been electrocuted, some asphyxiated, etc.
Would be fun to see how players react to coming across their own dead bodies from an alternate universe. Also there could be a small chance that Syndicate theft targets spawn on board Mirror-Cyberiad which could count towards the end - game greentext.
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How does it feel to be the love of my life, tastyfish? I bet it feels good.
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Just a note:
So, here's my suggestion to fix this issue, and make viro a little more of a star for their events. Step one, crank the "cure" chance from radium WAY down. It should be a last resort desperation play, not the go-to first line fix.
SomanB isn't saying she's for removing radium as a cure, just making it more difficult to use as a cure, and with strings attached for the person who undergoes the radium treatment.
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-Vox scream opera in escape shuttle
--Vox scream opera in front of bridge
---Vox scream opera in front of NT rep office
----Vox screaming opera on this same plane of existance I happen to inhabit
We just want to sing you the song of our people, yaya!
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Updated:
Maxwell Edison - Expanded Security Record to include permabrig sentence and subsequent house arrest. Expanded Medical History to include prosthetic left hand as well as replacement liver from excessive alcohol consumption.
Updated:
Maxwell Edison - Added section about replacement of bionic left hand with biological one, as well as replacement of the liver. Included information about receiving medal of valor in-game.
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That's pretty much what I was thinking improvedname. It shouldn't be something available at the start but it should be an option later in the round to help speed up the slime-harvesting process. Those who are comfortable with the more dangerous method can stick with it while those who want to use the new way can have their fun too.
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Bwahaha! Excellent work. I only wish I could have been on that round to see it happen.
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346 is the area code for Houston, apparently. Thanks, Google.
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I like any round where I can get my job done quickly, especially when the job involves some aspect of luck to it such as breeding slimes. Let me get the good stuff right away and I'll be pretty dang happy.
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Same here with the "sies". My only exception is when referring to myself as ,"voxxy" or a group of Vox as "voxxies". I'm not big on adding the suffix to most other things. I also like the idea of having a stressed out vox be less intelligible. I TEND TO START USING ALL CAPS WHEN STRESSED but I should stop that because I know how annoying it can be.
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It'll be fun when someone comes along as a Vox who speaks normally and just cringes to death when they try to talk to another Vox in galactic-common only to be met with some of the gibberish we spout.
In answer to at least part of Giggles' question:
For "Hello how are you?" I type, "Hihi! How is doing?"
Skrek is more of a general insult. I've said things like, "Is airhorn sound like angry skrek yaya!" and a few days ago I had some golems as a cultist and I told them that when I yelled, "SKREKFACE" on the shuttle they should start murdering people. Like it says in the Vox lore don't put too much thought into Vox insults because they don't either.
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I don't even say "me" in reference to myself. I say "voxxy is was" kind of like "I was" but the word "is" is pronounced normally. Someone tried to teach me how to use, "I" in reference to myself so I'm going to sprinkle it in there a little since that happened. Other than that I refer to others by a bastardized version of their rank (Cappy, HoSsy, HoPpy), a cutesy name for their race (beep boop = IPC), or Mr./Miss Their-Last-Name.
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So for those of us who play Vox I thought it might be nice to have a chat about the way we talk in both galactic common and in vox-pidgin.
I don't have a problem with other players talking however they like in either language. It's entirely plausible that a Vox could learn to speak galactic common fluently and it's also plausible for a Vox to struggle with speaking vox-pidgin.
The way I see it is as follows:
- - Galactic common is the secondary language and so Vox are more likely to sound childlike or stupid when speaking that language. I try to make my speech reflect that when using galactic common.
- - Vox-pidgin is the main language for the Vox - at least the ones away from the arkships - and so when speaking that language they would sound more fluent to each other.
In galactic common a greeting from a Vox might sound like, "Yaya, hihi!"
In Vox-pidgin a greeting might instead sound like, "Hello kin, how are you today?"
Now as I said this is just my take on it. I have no problem with other players continuing the YAYA and all that in Vox-pidgin. I just though it might be nice to try to find a consensus on it. If many Vox players are in favor of using the silly pseudo-english of galactic common even when speaking Vox-pidgin I'd gladly do so as well.
Thoughts?
Also, in-game I play Yakihikraekhekh, pronounced YA KEE HEE KRA ECH ECH.
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Corrected!
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TIM YOU MISSED THE LAST PART OF THE EXPERIMENT
We totally got KANG's mind into Araris's body but we couldn't find a way to get Araris' mind into anything besides an AI core. It was fun though!
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Is needs sECHcurity 4 guarding this thread against admins, yayaya.
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As one of those few dedicated players who enjoys Xenobio I would partially agree that removing the danger from the job makes it less interesting. I would rather see the slime management console become an option later in the round in the form of adding the console board to the circuit printer list. If someone wants to use it they can build the console themselves. If not then there's no need to worry about it. Having the console available would potentially draw in players who are intimidated by the danger or the sheer number of slimes one might need to deal with.
Also definitely yes to sentience potions. I am 100% in favor of having more methods to bring ghosts/observers into the game.
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The one who was a cult target yesterday but who went in for borging at the start of the round but it didn't matter because the server crashed after 15 minutes anyway? Yeah that sounds like John Boone.
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Don't forget to add a page for "Skrekcurity" and make it redirect to "Shitcurity". If you don't is voxxy discrimination yayayayayaya!
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2 many admins up in here, up in here
The Unlikely Tajaran
in Stories of NSS Cyberiad
Posted
(Kind of a short one today compared to the other two.)
Never before in Maxwell's life had two weeks felt like such a long time. Two weeks confined to his small apartment in the Central Command dormitory. Two weeks of his life taken away because he had been manipulated by the Syndicate and been caught in the act. It was only because of his unfortunate circumstances that the Magistrate had approved such a light penalty. It had come with a stern warning, however, that if he ever tried to do the Syndicate's bidding again he would never see the outside of a brig cell.
Two weeks. This was cruel and unusual punishment for someone who wanted to forget what they were. Maxwell tried to fill the time with frivolities - holo-shows, films, video games, e-novellas - but eventually the boredom overtook him once more and with it came the sullen reminder that he was no longer human, no longer himself, and that he would remain so for the foreseeable future. In his darkest of moments he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe the Syndicate would send someone after him for failing their task. But nobody came. For two weeks.
And then the door chime sounded.
Lost in his thoughts Maxwell didn't realize what he was hearing at first. On the second ring he was on his feet and rushing to the door. Locked down like he was and with all but emergency comms privileges taken away Maxwell didn't realize just how much he missed contact with others. He hesitated briefly before hitting the panel that would open the door. In the brief moment before it opened Maxwell felt a twinge of despair - the door was still bolted! Whoever was out there was going to leave! - and then it opened to reveal a man. Maxwell recognized him as was one of the Auditors who had spoken to him in CentCom Medbay after his stint in the permabrig. Maxwell was still fuzzy as to how he had made it off the station after that shift and the officer who had been set to guard him while he was recovering had been scarce with the details. The Auditor handed over a parcel and spoke curtly, his distaste for Maxwell quite clear in his voice, "You'll be reporting to the Cyberiad tomorrow. You will not be assigned any duties until you have earned the trust of the Corporation once more. Ask the Head of Personnel what service roles need filling. In time we'll see about getting you back into the Science department." Maxwell began to stammer out a reply, looking from the man to the parcel that he had been given and back. Before he could say anything the Auditor was gone, walking down the hallway to the dormitory exit. The door timer finished it's countdown and slid shut in front of Maxwell, who wordlessly opened the package he had been given.
A blue jumpsuit, a PDA, and an ID card: Maxwell Edison (Civilian)
Well, it was something.
Wanting to look presentable for work Maxwell decided that, with his confinement now over, he would take a trip to the station barber. He had a little difficulty in communicating just what he wanted but the barber seemed to know what he was doing and in the end Maxwell was relatively pleased with how he looked, though he couldn't help a small grimace at the feline face in the mirror. Looking and feeling better now that he was able to leave his quarters Maxwell took a walk around the station, the darkness that had been clouding his thoughts for what seemed like an eternity now began to fade to a blurry grey. He may not be human anymore, but at least he was alive. It was something.
The next day Maxwell boarded the shuttle with little fuss - no suspicious Syndicate agents - and eventually disembarked at the Cyberiad. As ordered by the Auditor he went directly to the Head of Personnel, a slime-person named Squishington. Unfortunately for Maxwell it seemed all the service positions had been filled already, and so Mr. Squishington rattled off a few other jobs that were available. One of them caught Maxwell's attention immediately: Gateway Explorer.
Maxwell had heard stories of the strange and wondrous places the gateway could lead. He had even once been through the gateway to the small beach lounge where he had kicked back with a few drinks. If Maxwell hadn't had his liver removed after that he wouldn't mind spending another shift lounging on the beach but given the boredom of the last two weeks he was looking forward to something a little more.. adventurous.
Maxwell signed up immediately and, because he wanted to be as prepared as possible for the trip, he asked the Head of Personnel for authorization to carry a belt full of tools and a pair of insulated gloves. He knew a little of hacking and if he ended up in some abandoned outpost he'd want to be able to get around without too much hassle. It took a little time but Mr. Squishington was able to scrounge up some gloves for Maxwell. Then he beckoned for Maxwell to follow as he stepped out of his office. He led the way down the hallway to the engineering department - eerily deserted so early in the shift - and scrounged up a toolbox from under a table, handing it over.
"I'll tell you what. Take these tools and hack this door and you can grab a tool belt from inside," said the slime-man.
"What?" Maxwell said, nervously. He didn't much care for the fact that the Head of Personnel was advocating an illegal activity.
"Think of it as a test. Prove you can hack a door so I know you're capable enough to handle yourself through the gateway," said Squishington as he gestured impatiently toward the door.
Fidgeting nervously for a few moments Maxwell sighed and turned to the door. It wasn't his quickest work but it didn't take him overly long either. Soon Maxwell was prying the door open with a crowbar. As luck would have it there was a tool belt on a rack just inside the door. He grabbed it and stepped outside where the waiting Head of Personnel had an approving look on his semi-opaque face. Maxwell pried the door shut behind him and closed the maintenance panel so nobody could tell someone had hacked in, then buckled the belt on and began to unload the toolbox and put the tools into their proper places on the belt.
"Well done. Now get your ass to EVA," said Squishington as he turned and headed down the hallway back towards the center of the station. With a little more preparation and a quick call over the radio to see if anybody wanted to join him Maxwell eventually found himself in the gateway room accompanied by a man named Arven and a cyborg known as MAC. Maxwell grabbed the spare first aid kit from the table as well as a station-bounced radio, then approached the great circular mass of metal and wires. He touched the holographic display and the gateway sprang to life, emitting a deep humming sound along with a worrying concert of whirs, clicks, and buzzes. After a few seconds a hole in reality formed at the center of the metal ring and expanded quickly outward. Though his EVA suit was sealed up and his oxygen tank was at full capacity Maxwell felt a slight trepidation. He thought he was prepared for almost anything as he stepped inside.
And found himself on a the beach.
"Son of a BITCH!" He kicked at the sand angrily as Arven stepped through behind him, "I was hoping for anything besides this goddamn beach!" he ranted to nobody in particular. Arven, at least, didn't seem disappointed, and neither did MAC. The trio made for the hut that served as a bar for lounging beachgoers. Together they looted everything that could be useful - a Booze-O-Mat, a Getmore Chocolate Corp machine, a liquor cabinet - and made their way back to the station. Dropping off their goods in the bar they reported to the Head of Personnel once more. Maxwell, perhaps a little more angrily than he intended, told Squishington, "The gateway goes to a damn beach. Isn't there a way to recalibrate it or something?" The Head of Personnel shook his head no, but then held up one finger, "There is, however, one other place I could have you explore. Follow." Maxwell and Arven were led to the teleporter room where the Head of Personnel booted up the computer and began the process of calibration.
"I'll go first," Maxwell said as the telepad activated, shimmering yellow, purple, and green. He activated the oxygen tank at his waist once more and hefted a flashlight in his hand as he stepped through. Immediately he was glad that he had brought a light source as the place he ended up was quite dark. It was a small room made of bare metal walls and floor plating and various debris scattered about. As he scanned the room he noticed a break in the wall that led to open space.
Arven soon appeared behind him, followed shortly - to Max's surprise - by the Head of Personnel who lacked any sort of protective gear. Maxwell felt a twinge of panic at that as, while he wasn't especially familiar with slime-person physiology, he was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea for anyone to be out in space without air or an EVA-capable suit. The Head of Personnel seemed unperturbed about the situation at first, pulling out a hand-teleporter and activating it to open a shimmering blue portal, "Sorry, I was curious," said Squishington with a shrug, "Well, good luck gentlemen," he said to Maxwell and Arven before stepping through. Crisis averted there, at least, Maxwell thought, and then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard something thumping against the metal wall to his right.
At first he thought it might just be space debris bouncing off the hull of the room, but as the thumping continued Maxwell looked to Arven, "Something's out there! Should we go look?" Arven nodded and together they stepped out of the breach in the wall and crawled across the outer plating of the structure. Rounding the curve of the metal hull they quickly spotted the source of the thumping noise. The Head of Personnel was there, weakly hammering a fist at the metal plating, his face and hands bruised - or at least the slime was discolored, all Maxwell knew was that it didn't look good. He grabbed Squishington and made his way back into the room while Arven followed. By the time they made it inside Squishington was worryingly unresponsive.
"We have a problem!" called Maxwell over the radio, "The HoP teleported us to some abandoned teleporter station and then came through without EVA gear! I think he's dead!"
And it was at that moment that he heard the telltale thud of an explosion somewhere nearby in space. A computerized voice buzzed through his PDA, "ANNOUNCEMENT - Telecomms has been bombed."
"Fuck!" Maxwell turned to Arven, "What are we going to do?"
Arven held up up a circuit board he had found, "This says teleporter console on it. Maybe put it in that old console over there and see if we can get it working?"
Maxwell nodded and got to work setting up the console by the defunct teleporter. Arven moved to the busted APC unit on the wall and began working on restoring power. When they both had finished they tried to make sense of the teleporter controls. No matter how they set them the telepad wouldn't light up. Maxwell was about to give up hope when he remembered the hand teleporter the Head of Personnel had brought with him. He murmured an unheard apology as he went through Squishington's pockets and found what he was looking for. The small grayish-blue box was much less complicated than the console, and there were only three settings available.
Maxwell dialed the target to the location that said, "Active" and turned the hand-teleporter on. A blue portal slid open in front of him and he stepped through... right back to where he started, "Shit, that's not it, it just leads back here!" Lacking other options he dialed the teleporter to the next option despite the fact it said, "Inactive" and hit the switch to open another portal, "Let me go through first in case it's dangerous," he said to Arven, "I'll try to contact you if it's safe."
He stepped through and felt the weight of gravity hit him. He looked around and realized he was back on the Cyberiad - on the bridge, in fact - with a rather startled-looking Captain standing nearby. Maxwell didn't waste any time, "TELL ARVEN TO GET THE H-O-P THROUGH THE PORTAL! MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT OR, OR SOMETHING! NOW!" The Captain seemed confused and unsure as to what Maxwell was speaking about. Frustrated, Max switched the hand-teleporter back to the previous setting and activated the portal, stepping through and emerging in the metal space-bound room once more, "I've got it!" he yelled to Arven as he came through, toggling the hand-teleporter once more. He grabbed the Head of Personnel and, in a surprising display of strength fueled by adrenaline, threw the man through the portal before stepping through himself with Arven following shortly afterward. Instead of the bridge, however, they found themselves at Arrivals. Maxwell and Squishington were in the middle of the hallway while Arven appeared in between two of the windows between the hallway and the arrivals shuttle.
Maxwell immediately grabbed the Head of Personnel and ran as fast as he could for medical. When he arrived he was glad to see that somebody had heard his call for help on the radio just before they had gone down. Another slime-person was ready behind the desk to receive Squishington's body with the intent to revive him as quickly as possible.
With the Head of Personnel safe in the hands of Medbay Maxwell figured it would be a good idea to fill in the Captain about what happened. He only hoped that nobody would blame him for the HoP's decision to step through the teleporter unprotected...
He activated the station-bounced radio and asked for Arven to meet him at the bridge. The man was already there when he arrived and knocked at the door to get the attention of one of the few command staff on the bridge. It was the Captain who came to the door and Maxwell explained the situation from the beginning, about the gateway and the beach, the teleporter and the small metal room in space, and how the Head of Personnel was now in Medbay hopefully being revived at that very moment.
The Captain nodded along patiently, and gave a simple reply, "Thank you Maxwell, Arven, give me some time to verify this. I'll call for you later."
Feeling a bit deflated at being dismissed so quickly after all he had done Maxwell sighed and gestured for Arven to follow him. They went to the bar and sat down, the bartender giving them each a free drink for the equipment they had brought in from the gateway earlier. Though Maxwell knew he shouldn't be drinking alcohol he felt he deserved something after the strange ups and downs and twists and turns the day had taken. He deserved to treat himself - after all, he was a big damn hero for saving the Head of Personnel wasn't he? One drink couldn't hurt.
As Maxwell sat and drank in sullen silence, listening to Arven regaling the bartender with stories of their exploits, Maxwell heard radio chatter slowly returning to the station. Though the telecomms satellite had apparently been blown up many people were equipping themselves with the same type station-bounced radio he had in his pocket. As he felt a creeping uneasiness (or was it the alcohol) in his gut Maxwell heard his name called for over the radio. The Captain was calling he and Arven to the bridge...
So off he went, his cohort in tow, speculating about what they were needed for. They were greeted at the door by the Captain who let them onto the bridge. The man seemed quite pleased with Maxwell and Arvin.
"Arvin, for your service in rescuing the Head of Personnel I award you the medal of distinguished conduct," said the Captain, solemnly, pinning a silvery badge to Arven's jumpsuit. He then stepped in front of Maxwell and turned to face him, "Maxwell, for your more immediate and decisive action in rescuing the Head of Personnel I award you the medal of valor," he reached out and pinned a platinum medal to Maxwell's jumpsuit and then put his hand on Maxwell's shoulder, "Good man."
A flood of emotions hit Maxwell all at once, he was barely able to hold back tears. The shame he had felt upon being tossed in permabrig two weeks before was there again. How could he deserve something like this after what he had done?
"I don't.. I don't deserve this, Captain," he said, his voice slurring a bit from the drink a short time ago.
"Of course you do son, now I've got important business to attend to, please," he gestured toward the door, opening it for Arven and Maxwell.
Dismissed once more Maxwell was unsure what to do next. He stood for a while in the hall, looking down at the fancy medal that contrasted with his plain blue jumpsuit. Unfortunately he didn't have long to admire his prize before his body finally began to protest the alcohol it couldn't process. With his insides twisting in knots Maxwell made his way to the Medbay for help. As he sat in the lobby, clutching his stomach in pain he missed the call that came over the radio, "NUKE OPS IN EVAC!"
It wasn't until he heard the gunfire in the halls that Maxwell realized something was very, very wrong. He heard the six deep thuds of a revolver followed by the rapid-fire jackhammer of an auto-shotgun. Without any real weapons to defend himself and still very much in pain Maxwell was cornered in the lobby area of the Medbay. When a man in a red space-suit stepped inside with a pistol and a riot shield Maxwell felt a surge of adrenaline much like he had earlier on the abandoned teleporter platform. The man pointed a gun at him and Maxwell immediately responded by throwing anything and everything he could in their direction. Stools, tables, tools from his toolbelt. He scored a few hits but the objects glanced harmlessly off the man's shield and armor. Though Maxwell would never admit it he was certain that his Tajaran reflexes saved him from most of man's shots, but when he felt a burning pain in his chest he knew he had been hit, and even the adrenaline couldn't save him. As he gasped on the floor, vision blurred and coughing up blood he knew this had to be the end. Any second the man would put a bullet between his eyes and he'd die alone and helpless on the Medbay floor.
He slipped briefly into unconsciousness and was quite surprised when, a short time later, he came to and found nobody around. He shooks his head to clear his vision and sat up, wincing and clutching his arm across his stomach. Barely able to think straight from the pain Maxwell called out for help. When his cries went unanswered he looked around the lobby to see if there was something that could be useful. It wasn't until he finally decided to check his own backpack that he remembered the first aid kit he had grabbed from the gateway room! Lifting his shirt he slapped a healing patch on the oozing bullet-wound, groaning loudly as the chemicals caused a burning sensation. Then he grabbed the autoinjector from the kit and jabbed himself in the thigh. If nothing else the epinephrine could get him on his feet and to evac.
Climbing slowly to his feet he could hear the sounds of fighting out in the hallway. Using the wall for support he leaned out and looked in both directions, his ears twitching as they picked up staccato blasts of automatic gunfire from the bridge. He knew he was unlikely to survive another fight.. he knew that he should head for the evac area to wait for the approaching shuttle.. but he couldn't bring himself to let these Syndicate assholes get their way. He couldn't let the Captain down...
He stumbled across to the wall opposite the Medbay door and followed it carefully towards the bridge. Turning the corner he saw another Ops member who seemed to be injured. The man was barely able to stand, much like Maxwell, and when the man dropped his gun Max leapt, nearly vomiting in mid-air from the pain in his chest and stomach. The gun was in his hands! He took aim at the man and pulled the trigger over and over, but he was unsteady and there was little ammunition left in the weapon. Out of four shots only one hit the redsuit, the man quickly turning to face Maxwell, drawing a pistol from his holster and firing back. Maxwell dove out of the way just in time to avoid the shots and when he looked up several other crew members were there ganging up on the man. Maxwell pushed himself off the ground and dove into the fray. Lacking any weapons he began to claw at the helmet of the man, hoping to either rip it off or break it open so he could do some real damage. The other crew members laid into the man too with every weapon at their disposal, from kicks and punches to telescopic batons and welding tools.
Before long the man in the hardsuit was deathly still, but Maxwell didn't stop. All the anger in him was coming as he tore at the edges of the suit, ripping and tearing with his claws and bionic hand, every memory of shame and guilt and rage he had felt since the virology conference that seemed a lifetime ago. As the other crew members moved away to continue the fight elsewhere a low, ominous beeping sound began to issue from the red space suit.
Five
Four
Three
Two
One
KABOOM!
Maxwell was blasted back against the wall as the Syndicate man exploded in a shower of gore! Disoriented and deaf from the blast Maxwell slowly realized he was somehow on his feet once more. Unfortunately he was not apt to stay that way for much longer. Several new wounds had been opened on his chest Max barely made it five steps down the hallway before he collapsed.
Unable to do much but flail weakly and call for help he slipped in and out of consciousness once more. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of someone running past, but he managed to stammer out, "Help..." He heard the person stop and come back to him, "First.. first aid kit.. in my backpack," he sputtered as blood welled up in his throat. He felt himself being dragged as he slowly slipped into sleep once more.
When he awoke he was in the medbay, still very injured but somehow alive. The new wounds had been patched up and his vision was remarkably clear. As he sat up and looked around he saw a vulpkanin woman in a doctor's uniform nearby working on another unconscious and wounded patient, "D-did you save me?" he asked weakly.
"Yes, for now, but you've got internal bleeding, stay there," the doctor replied.
"If I can walk I'm getting to the shuttle, but I appreciate you saving me," Max said as he carefully turned in his seat to lower his legs to the floor. When he found himself steady enough to stand he began to move for the exit, "You've got other patients that are nearly dead, they'll fix me back up at CentCom, I'm sure."
The doctor nodded as she went back to work on her other patient, and Maxwell made his way out into the hallway. Once more using the wall for support Maxwell realized he had made a grave error in judgment thinking he could make this trip. His insides, still wrenching from the alcohol, were also now bleeding freely. He fell to the floor a few times and had to rest before getting to his feet again. Eventually he came to the evac lounge where many of the surviving crew had gathered. It was a short wait before the shuttle arrived, but as the crew tried to board the external airlocks stayed firmly shut.
Lacking some of his tools Maxwell was unable to hack through the door like he had earlier, but looking closely he could see that somebody had already had a go at messing with the doors, likely to keep them shut. It was by sheer luck that, upon checking his belt, he still had wire cutters, a welding tool, and a crowbar. They would be just enough to work. He cut through the remaining wires and wedged the airlock open. Stumbling through, he was followed by most of the remaining crew, receiving a few pats on the back for his efforts.
He took his seat and leaned his head back against the cool glass of the shuttle window, closing his eyes and trying his best to ignore the wrenching pains that gripped him. They would be at CentCom soon, the doctors were surely on standby ready to patch people up. Maybe he would get through this after all. Maybe they would see his medal and the Captain would tell them what he did. Maybe things were looking up for him.
Maybe.