Clusterfrag

"Bell said he paid off one of the security guards to open the aft airlock. He should be waiting for us."

Daniel rubs his jaw. "What do you plan on doing with the hive?"

Max barks at Whitelock,

"That doesn't fraggin' concern you!"

The co-pilot gestures towards the rear of the plane.

"There's an access panel that should get you into the luggage compartments. Discharging firearms on-board the station could undermine the integrity of the hull. I wouldn't recommend taking them."

"Max, Tyros, Rawhide, keep an eye on this drekbag. I'll grab our gear."

Doc walks to the rear of the craft, popping open the hatch. He gives one last look around, and disappears inside.

The shuttle shudders as the two airlocks couple.

The co-pilot calls out to Max. "Okay, we're docked with the aft airlock... what do you want us to do?"

Max nods in affirmation to the pilot,

"Understood and noted about the hull. Better to have them and not need them, though. Sit tight at the airlock for a few minutes. We want to be ready when it opens."

Turning his attention to Whitelock, Max insists,

"Keep talking, Polly."

Doc comes puffing up the aisle, dragging four overloaded bags behind him, and avoiding eye contact with the other passengers. A rifle barrel pokes out of the top of one, a sword hilt is visible on another, and a shotgun is strapped to the outside of the third.

"Next time, I'm just bringing the essentials," he complains.

Forsaking his shotgun for the time being, Max grabs his plasteel handcuffs from his bag. Moving to Whitelock, Max says,

"Just in case you get any bright ideas, pal."

Grabbing Whitelock by the shoulder, Max pushes him to the ground. With his knee on his spine in the small of his back, Max grabs Whitelock's right hand and fastens one of the cuffs around his wrist. Pulling the detainee's left ankle up to meet the cuff, Max tightens Whitelock down. Rolling his prisoner over, Max stands and says,

"Alright, now that we know where you'll be at all times, how about you tell us anything you left out."

Max throws his pack over his shoulder and loads the first five rounds in his shotgun with flechettes. Holding the shotgun, Max looks down at Whitelock expectantly.

Doc eyes his high-power armor piercing rifle ruefully, before reaching into his pack, and retrieving the Colt Cobra submachine gun. The gun feels light in his hands as he loads in a magazine of stick-n-shock rounds. He cycles the bolt and moves the fire select switch to semi-auto, before unfolding the stock.

"You don't have to do this," says Whitelock in a strained voice.

"We can still work together. I'll help you get Bell, just make sure everything goes as planned. I can make you rich."

Max is insulted by the very suggestion,

"Not a chance asshole. I'd rather die poor than work with a piece of drek like you to ruin untold numbers of lives to make a few easy creds. Don't try to bargain your way out of this, or I may just forget our little agreement."

There's a violet hiss as the airlock cycles and then both sets of doors open, revealing a corridor between the shuttle and space station.

A man in an armored jumpsuit peers cautiously into the airlock. He's gripping a stun baton.

"Uh... everything alright in there?"

Doc keeps his eyes on Whitelock, searching his face for any signs that he recognizes the guard or the guard's voice.

Max plays dumb to the security guard's allegiances as he scans for other guards,

"There were a pair of technological terrorists on board. You're lucky the winners of last week's Blank Bucks happened to be on board too to keep the shuttle voyage from turning to disaster. I'd recommend you take these two men into custody straight away."

Max shoots Whitelock a look that asks for familiarity: 'Is this your contact?'

Subvocally, Max cautions his team,

<Whitelock may try to use the space station's security force to pry the hive out of our possession and get it into the hands of his accomplice here. We need to be on guard. This guy is more than likely his contact, so we should take both of them out the moment it becomes evident.>

< Keep that thing hidden. If they scan for it, maybe you can claim it's a standard implanted nanohive. >

Out loud, he says,

"Yep, everything is fine! We have the terrorists here ready to be taken away."

Tyros keeps his hand movements out of sight (centering) and channels a subtle stream of magic into the security guard's mind (mind probe, f3 - looking for what he may know about the nano plan, accomplices, etc).

Tyros forms a direct connection with the guard and plunges into his thoughts.

<"This isn't Whitelock's inside man. He knows nothing about the plot, so keep you eyes open for an ambush. We need to make sure the shuttle doesn't leave without us. Rawhide should stay here and hold down the fort. Let's the rest of us get moving and find the canister so we can get back planet side.>"

Tyros sets his conm frequency to the canister tracking signal. Picking up Whitelock by his hogtie, Tyros walks across the bridge with the britt floating in tow like a kite.

Max nods appreciatively at the guard and walks past him with his gear stowed over his shoulder; the elf remains mindful of the hive gently shifting inside his skin pocket as he walks. Pointing to the bearded man, he says to the guard almost as an afterthought,

"There's your terrorist. We subdued him before he could take the shuttle."

The security guard looks dubiously at the restrained Whitelock and then at the doorway.

"What exactly happened onboard? And why did you approach this airlock? It's for Mitsuhama employees only."

Max explains (for the most part) honestly,

"I noticed the man we have detained here was up to something, and when I questioned him he told me that he was hijacking the shuttle, and that we needed to stay out of his way. As you can tell, we didn't. We discovered his accomplice and subdued him. He was attempting to hijack the shuttle and bring it around to dock here with some kind of self-replicating computer virus that shuts down communications. One of those 'God First' nuts, you know? Anyway, his explanation was a bit technical, but the thrust of it was that the virus is delivered by a small collection of nanomachines that search out comm hubs, and that the primary airlock would in some way destabilize the vessel containing them. The man unconscious on the floor is this man's accomplice, and from what I can gather he was hired blindly as a sort of courier. I don't think you have anything to worry about with him. This guy, however, is dangerous. I'd happily turn him over to you, but he informed us that he has an inside man on the space station who is in security, so for the good of everyone aboard, we're going to hang onto him until the third accomplice can be identified and neutralized. Now, in the meantime, we need to talk to the station's administrator. There's a very bad man behind all of this, and he needs to know immediately."

The station security guard stares at Max as though he'd just spoken a foreign language.

"I... uh... I see..."

He taps his comm. "Sir, you better get down here, apparently there's a biological agent on the station."

"Don't listen to them," says Whitelock. "They're the--"

Rawhide kicks Daniel in the ribs. "Shut your face."

Doc taps his toe impatiently.

"Sir, we don't have time to wait for your superiors to get down here. Why don't you bring us to your administrator so we can sort this out?
This crisis is still developing, and time is of the essence! None of us can afford to waste the time appeasing the gods of bureaucracy, we need to get this situation solved NOW."

Max gestures with his head toward Doc and says to the guard,

"Bullseye. The sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner we can all figure out how to clean up the mess. You guys are just lucky we happened to be on board the shuttle. Now please, lead the way."

The pilot taps Doc on the shoulder.

"Hey, you'd better come see this."

Max spins around at the sound of the concern in the pilot's voice.

Doc turns to follow the pilot.

"What do you have?" He asks, keeping his growing uneasiness hidden.

"See for yourself."

The pilot points to the spot where Daniel's blood had made contact with the interior of the plane. The hardened plastisteel seems to have melted away and there is no sign of blood. There are a few tiny divots on the floor as well.

Max leans in to investigate with Doc, turns to the security guard and says,

"See? This is the kind of drek we're dealing with with this fraggin' guy. Take us to your administrator now."

(( I feel comfortable saying that Doc will investigate this spot of blood. Drew can kick me in the balls if he wouldn't roll biology/engineering on the melted spots. ))

Doc waves the others over.

(( Roll perception to see if the plasteel is still actively melting away ))

"Dammit, it's already started started," he murmurs. Figures and specifications of the thickness and tensile strength of the plasteel hull float through his mind, along with the effects of rapid decompression. He shakes his head returns to the present.

"The nanomachines he used to incapacitate the passengers and crew were likely different than the ones in the nanohive. Those only shut down cyberware, but they didn't cause it to decay like this."

(( Roll biology to see if this is true ))

"He's right," Doc says to the guard, in response to Max, "You need to get these people off the shuttle, NOW, and take us to your superiors."

The security guard nods and begins directing the passengers off the shuttle.

"Right this way folks, please follow the lighting on the floor to the public area. We will assess you there and transfer to the medical bay if necessary..."

Doc pulls one of the nanomachine neutralizing vials out, and waves it above a spot of decaying plasteel.

"This stuff was used to neutralize the cyberware nanites," he says to no one in particular, "but if we're REALLY lucky, it'll be more general purpose than that. These harvesting nanites are active and loose."

The color drains from Max's face,

"Alright, we need to get moving here. Tyros, maybe you can work ahead of us while we we deal with this Whitelock problem. We'll meet up with you after we sort it out."

Subvocally, Max adds,

<And a little invisibility never hurt anybody, did it?>