Run #3 - The Smoking Gunwale

[GM Nick]

Javad creeps forward a bit further and snatches the morsel of food. He crouches down, elbows hanging over his knees. For a moment it's as if he has forgotten how to eat. The bit of protein bar remains on the floor, the unwitting subject in a staring contest. In the end, hunger triumphs over distrust and Javad shoves it in his mouth. As he eats, his eyes roam the shadows behind Yung. It seems he hasn't forgotten being chased into the room.

The water bottle crinkles as Javad retrieves it from the floor and downs it in a single gulp. He wipes his mouth and shifts his focus to tearing the label from the bottle. Whether he doesn't process the words being spoken or doesn't speak English, it isn't clear. He does glance up at Mouse's hologram, but there's no sign of recognition on his face beyond the natural inclination to look at moving things.

Achak very slowly sidles up to Yung, who has elected himself as the child whisperer. "We should check if he is injured." The statement is delivered in a netural tone, conveying the obvious question: how is he alive?

[John]

Mick allows themself to recede into the rear of the assembling party. Had they their faculties about them, they might consider that the child would be most spooked by their presence of anybody in the crew, but that's not the reality of it. For Mick, it's not so much like looking at an emaciated refugee or even a skittish ghost; it's like looking in a funhouse mirror, turned back about 20 years, their form born of a different atrocity, forged of a different fire, bathed in volumes of blood unimaginable. All at once, Mick knows the kid to be damned. Come whatever may, he'll never escape this hell.

Not all the way.

[Drew Buddy]

Axel is once again frozen to the ground. Not out of fear this time, but out of a profound sense of emotional whiplash. Up until now, he's been able to imagine his own fear, terror, and disgust as the most pressing issue. But like that, he is confronted with the fact that he's, at most, a side player in someone else's much more important story, made manifest in a small, scared child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Mick tense and back away. He knows nothing of his teammate's background, but what he can see are the same instincts he's seen a million times in the Barrens. Ubiquitous street urchins who, like Axel, would ply the scrap heaps, and vanish frighteningly and impossibly fast at the first sign of strangers. A distrust that can only be born in early childhood.

He has no idea what to do. Lamely, he digs through his pack, and withdraws the small towel crammed into the bottom corner. He kneels down, and holds the towel out. "You've got a spot..." He starts to point, but ends up waving his hand vaguely over the kid, "yeah."

[GM Nick]

Javad looks in Axel's general direction, not exactly at him. He does take the towel, but simply places it on his own head in a sad facsimile of some foreign religious routine. The effect is that he looks even more pitiable-- a haunted, filthy child with a cowl that hides the top of his face in shadow.

He then moves closer to Yung, obviously drawn to the light. Javad stands a meter or so from Yung, swaying as if suspended on marionette strings. The runners can almost see the primal fear and tension drain from the young boy's face, replaced with an exhaustion and grief so immense that it instantly seems to age him several years. Still too adled to cry, Javad simply heaves an enormous sigh, followed by a hacking cough.

[Molly]

The light from the holo winks off as Mouse stuffs her hands back into her pockets, helpless to do any good here. For all her firsthand experiences navigating tragedy, she's in no position to shepherd others through their own. As it turns out, contrary to the countless platitudes spoken by self-assured pricks, trauma does not forge people into 'survivors', nor leave them stronger for having endured it. Trauma just makes people traumatized.

Instead, she entrusts the broken bird to Yung and Achak (and by extension, Reiya on his shoulder). "KEEP AN EYE ON OUR FUTURE SHADOWRUNNER HERE. THE REST OF US STILL NEED TO GET THE POWER BACK ON." She cocks her head toward Axel and Mick, readily volunteering them for the task.

She moves to turn her light toward the other fixtures in the room, but pauses half-step. Her head cranes back toward the child, and she fights one last time to summon the words she herself had once needed desperately to hear. "...whatever happens, we aren't going to leave you. You're not alone now." She doesn't expect a response, or for him to even understand, and that's okay. It's as much for herself as it is for him.

(( Perception for any kind of controls to the power? (Or a hint as to what caused the shutoff?) ))

[John]

With Mouse's prompt, Mick floats blearily out of their fugue, endeavoring the sisyphean task of trying to figure out how to get the power back up and running while possessing damned near no technical knowledge of any value.

[GM Nick]

Dice

Axel - Vehicle Knowledge Test - 5, 2, 2, 4, 3, 6, 2, 5, 3, 2 (3 hits on 10 dice)
Mouse - General LOG Test - 6, 2, 1, 3, 5, 5 (3 hits on 6 dice)
Mick - Perception Test - 6, 2, 4, 4, 4, 5, 1, 6, 3, 2 (3 hits on 10 dice)

Axel begins by walking a circuit of the powerplant and examining the massive machine. He's no engineering expert, but he understands how vehicles work and that includes ships. While he doesn't know exactly what kind of powerplant it is or how it operates, he does know what it needs to do and how it might accomplish that. He points out items that he recognizes: transformers here, fuel rod chamber there, and on until he exhausts his knowledge.

Mouse follows him, marking the various bits and bobs in AR and figuring out where all the terminals are. Her understanding of electronics doesn't extend to vessels, but fortunately the powerplant is configured like a giant computer. Or to be more accurate: a computer's power supply. Just nuclear.

Mick aids the pair by using their vision to locate potential points of interest: large levers, relays, and important looking terminals. They also fill their time by inspecting the large coils of cable and winding tubes to insure there is no obvious damage.

Javad spends the time squatting next to Yung. He remains mute, but his eyes track the runners' activity with something approaching curiosity.

After twenty minutes of hustle and bustle, Mouse reviews their findings. The power plant seems to be operable but running in some kind of emergency containment. The fuel rods are healthy, as indicated by a series of LED's that Mick found near the rear of the device. Through a process of elimination, the three runners narrow the primary control terminal down to a single unit. Axel insures that all the components he recognizes are undamaged and connected.

Mouse approaches the terminal (which is near the rear of the room) and stoops down. A cable the size of her forearm lies unterminated on the floor. She lifts it up and fits it into the back of the terminal, twisting it clockwise until the keyed connector snaps into place. Her fingers flick the rocker switches on the side, one by one. She's nearly blinded as the terminal's monitor switches on, illuminating the back of the chamber and summoning a hologram of the power plant. Readouts flicker across the monitor, accompanied by a number of subroutines with Russian names.

[John]

"Da, comrade," Mick grumbles in a contemptibly bad Russian accent. "Let there be many makings of light."

[Molly]

"Чики-брики!" Mouse flashes a wide, genuine grin toward her compatriots- probably her first since boarding this cursed ship. Freshly illuminated, it's clear that the color has started returning to her cheeks, and a visible shiver courses through her- a visceral, instinctive reaction, as though she herself had been plugged in as well.

She splays out her fingers, allowing her fingertips to glide tenderly across the terminal's surface. Pupils dilate in joy and reverence as she takes in the imagery of the power plant, the first sign of salvation in this waking nightmare. She nods in immediate agreement with Mick, already scanning the newly powered device for a way in. "RYOUKAI! LET'S LIGHT THIS SLITCH UP."

(( Anywhere to plug in? Either way, Computers or HotF (whatever's appropriate) to actually work this thing. ))

Loadout

(( Overclocker: Sleaze
Attack: 4
Data Processing: 5/4
Sleaze: 6/4
Firewall: 3/2
Programs: Agent, Baby Monitor, Encryption, Exploit, Fork, Linguasoft: Russian, Sneak, Stealth, Toolbox ))

[GM Nick]

Mouse grits her teeth and then taps her fingers on the touch-screen, over a button labeled пожарный реактор. A holographic message explodes over the terminal, flashing about fifteen different warnings. She shrugs and taps the button several more times in rapid succession. As if resigned, the warning messages dissolves into the equivalent of a progress bar.

Something makes a clunking sound from within the reactor, causing Javad to leap up and scurry behind Yung. The sound revberates throughout the room. The hissing of compressed air follows, followed by a clicking that builds in tempo. The reactor groans. Mouse bites her lip.

The clicking (which Mouse prays is not a geiger counter) reaches a feverish rhythym and then transforms into a whirring. A subtle glow begins to emanate from the center of the powerplant, shining through quartz viewing channels. The whirring grows in volume. Javad covers his ears.

Just as Mouse is about to frantically scramble for an abort option, the progress bar vanishes. The terminal goes dark. The runners all stand in tense silence, some contemplating their life choices.

But then-- brilliance. The sun itself rises inside the power room. Every member of the team (except for Reiya) covers their eyes, and most of them swear. When eyeballs adjust, it's to a brightly lit power room. The overhead lights are on. All of the auxiliary terminals are on. The reactor hums happily.

[Molly]

There’s a beat of silence as the little decker is left blinking in the deluge of light, pupils constricting, expression blank, almost as if she herself is in the midst of an internal reboot. Then all at once, she pumps both fists into the air, bursting into a little hop of victorious glee. "SCIENCE!"

Herself newly energized, she putters from terminal to terminal, skimming the readouts. She’s still curious how and why the power was shut down to begin with, and which user had authorized that decision, since it clearly wasn’t Javad. Admittedly lacking any real industrial knowledge to interpret what she’s seeing on screen, she’s mostly just basking in the physical glow of the machinery around her. "I'M SURE THAT DECISION WILL HAVE NO NEGATIVE REPERCUSSIONS WHATSOEVER. " It’s unclear to what extent she’s actually being sarcastic here, her intentions muddled by her lingering snaggletoothed grin, even as she follows up with a muttered, "NOT LIKE ANY OF YOU WERE EVER GOING TO HAVE KIDS ANYWAY..."

[Drew Buddy]

Axel visibly relaxes with the return of light. He approaches the reactor and places a hand on it. "There you go, big fella, just needed a little help. Not your fault you were controlled by assholes," he says quietly.

He moves over to the console that Mouse is looking at, curious himself about the story that played out in this room, ready to provide mechanical expertise at best, or otherwise settle for less-than-professional backseat Sysadmining.

[John]

Mick scoffs. "'Controlled by assholes' could be the logline of our lives since we got roped into all this drek." They gesture to their surroundings, but their meaning clearly extends beyond the walls of the ship. The ork's grin is both wry and rueful as they look aroudn the chamber, lighting upon the faces of their teammates, looking a whole lot like a set of ghouls suddenly blasted by floodlights.

"We gotta keep moving." Mick's focus settles on Javad, at once both an impediment to their mission and the only apparent good reason for them to be aboard. "Obviously, we can't leave him here." Turning to Mouse, "Got any kinda software that'll help us communicate with him? Maybe he can help us figure out what the frag we're really doing here. What happened."

[GM Nick]

Achak squints in the light but-- holy shit-- actually smiles. He flashes Mouse and Axel the okay hand gesture before kneeling down to fix the velcro strap on Javad's sneakers.

A whirring sound emanates from the ceiling as the ventilation system comes back online. A zephyr of filtered air kisses the runner's cheeks as the ship begins pumping out the stench of rotting corpses. The system obviously detected the high levels of carbon dioxide, methane, nitrogen, and hydrogen sulfide as the blowers are operating at full blast.

Even the rocking of the ship seems to have subsided a bit, evidence that the storm is waning.

Mouse drifts a palm across the diagnostic terminal which, thankfully, is the simplest terminal to operate. Probably by design, she muses. A couple dozen digital readouts spill across the space above the polished acrylic, but they're all green and all marked with the word оптимальный. Mouse wiggles her fingers at the icon shaped like a fuel rod and the terminal responds with the figure ninety-five percent. The decker's heart misses a beat when she sees the word "sievert," but then relaxes when her mental arithmetic hashes out the result 'definitely acceptable.'

Axel brings Mouse's attention to the second terminal, which is a small holographic model of the freighter. Tiny glowing lines extend out from the powerplant like neon veins to feed bulbous green orbs scattered throughout the ship. It would seem that power is being supplied to the entire vessel without incident.

[Molly]

The decker squints at the terminal, then sheepishly back toward Axel, obviously operating well outside her expertise. Apparently, her newfound ability to translate the text before her (and string together Russian profanity in new and inventive ways) doesn't in any way facilitate her understanding of the vessel itself. "...HUH. BUT WHAT ABOUT ALL THAT POWER THAT HAD BEEN ROUTED DOWN HERE. ANY CLUE WHAT THAT WAS ABOUT?"

It takes only a moment of pondering to realize that as grateful as she is to have her grubby little mitts on a terminal, she really ought to let the expert 'drive'. She ducks out of the way, making room for the rigger, and instead freeing her attention to areas she might actually be of some use: namely, Mick's inquiry, and the team's newfound ward.

Stepping back, she folds her arms, puffing out a cheek in clear thought. At once, there's a familiar glimmer in her eyes as inspiration strikes, and she goes digging through her pocket once more for Nazim's comm. Once again, she extends the fingers of her free hand in the familiar gestures of rapid fire navigation. "ONE CRASH COURSE IN ENGLISH, COMING UP."

(( Look for/start downloading an English Linguasoft, R3 for Nazim/Javad's comm. (She'll eat the 3k cost for now. ))

[Drew Buddy]

Axel gazes over the only vaguely familiar interface of the Russian tanker, a sense of imposter syndrome setting his heart jumping. "Sure thing, let me see if I can make sense of this pig." He sets to work at the controls, diving into and out of menus and diagnostic reports to get a feel for the interface. The text is unfamiliar, but the numbers read the same. He sets to working out the likely meaning of the numbers: 478 must refer to 480v three-phase, the number shown in scientific notation is likely the reactor core temperature, and the numbers that increase slightly, followed by a core temperature drop are probably the automatic control rods doing their job. He takes another look at the power distribution diagram and starts tracing lines.

He sneaks a peek around the display, hoping to find a helpful little Neo-Soviet flag that might indicate an interface language selection dialog.

[GM Nick]

Dice

Axel - Computer Test - 2, 5, 3, 4, 5, 6, 3, 1 (3 hits on 8 dice)

Axel may not know Russian, but he knows vehicle computer systems. It doesn't take long for him to figure out the various menus based on their readouts. A few minutes later he's developed his own schematic in the form of an AR overlay superimposed over the Cyrillic spaghetti. His index finger traces the glowing display as he follows the power. A good chunk is being diverted to the various ship's systems, as one might expect. But a questionable remainder is being routed to the makeshift infirmary they passed through.

The various medical devices the team discovered don't account for nearly that amount of power. Axel checks his numbers again, but they still add up to the same conclusion. There's a serious power drain on this vessel, and it looks to be by design.

[John]

Mick squints their eyes at the rapid bloom of light in the power room, their vision adjusting from the very bottom of their lowlight abilities up to midday-in-the-desert levels of brightness so fast that tears stream down their cheeks. For a moment, all the ork can consider is the horror at what they might see in the newly illuminated chamber– darkened corners awash in daylight, filled with monsters. It takes several checks to ensure that it's just their imagination.

At Mouse's declaration, Mick heads back to the passageway from which they made their entrance into the room, checking their six, listening for the sound of anything that might approach. The mechanical hum of the restored electricity seems to make the ship breathe. Somehow, rather than banishing ghosts from the derelict freighter, the power returning seems almost to have made it hungrier.

Satisfied that a giant mass of animated gelatinized body parts hasn't reconstituted into a single sentient organism and begun pushing itself down the cold, steel corridor like a sheaf of intestines, Mick moves to check the power room's other doorway leading into parts unknown.

[GM Nick]

Mick glances down the opposite end of the corridor which passes a bulkhead and splits off into two rooms. They slow as they spy an irregularity in the wall texture. The far wall is a matte blackish-brown arranged in a strange pattern. As Mick draws closer, they see it for what it is: dried blood. A lot of dried blood-- only a few patches of metal shine through. No sign of bodies though, at least not in the corridor.

The power, while a necessary evil, nonetheless makes stealth much more difficult. The overhead lights provide no shadow in which to skulk. Mick relies instead on silence as they ease their way along the wall. They reach the end of the corridor and peer into the junction. The engine room lies beyond a curving corridor, so its interior is not visible. Opposite that is an unmarked room, which can only be the bilge pump room. The door is only slightly ajar, preventing the adept from getting a look inside. But the thing that really grabs Mick's attention is a single, severed hand lying in the middle of the junction. It's practically purple, so not fresh, but its presence still raises their hackles.

[GM Nick]

Achak motions down at Javad and addresses Yung. "Maybe I should escort our new friend to the infirmary we passed and get him cleaned up. It seemed well stocked. " The utterance is a musing, but also a question; delivered to infer that Achack perceives Yung as defacto team leader.

[John]

Mick returns to the power room, a grimace pasted atop their already-oft sour puss. "Would you be surprised to learn that even more horror awaits us further in?" Their eyes fall to Javad. "Any luck with the kid?"

[Molly]

It turns out that downloading the entirety of the English language into a small child’s head is less than an instant process.

Just finding the linguasoft is a simple task. Given the ubiquity of English in the business world, within mere milliseconds, Mouse’s display is awash with advertisements vying for her attention. On the high end, there are glossy corporate packages, which promise the nuance required to both negotiate high stakes international trade deals, with enough local slang to pick up a local escort on the way back. Then there’s the more ‘budget friendly’ options, like ‘Pidgin English’, with its cheerful pidgeon mascot that encourages users to practice their vocab by threatening their families when they don’t. She settles on the more middle of the road ‘BabelChat’, with its decidedly ‘good enough’ translation capabilities and kimokawaii slug-fish logo.

Then there’s the sticker shock: the 3000¥ price-tag that sears itself into her retinas. She visibly cringes, both at the thought of paying for software at all (especially for someone else’s benefit) and the scale of the expenditure. Biting her lip, she forces herself to look toward Javad, to take in that perpetually lost-seeming expression, and covers the charge. She tells herself it might ultimately save their lives. This is all for them, not for him.

From there, it’s just a matter of waiting. For the decker, forever spoiled by instant gratification, the download might as well be an eternity. She busies herself fiddling once again with Nazim’s comm, rifling through the UEFI settings when Mick returns to bear even more bad news. At their prompting, Mouse scrunches closed one eye, and holds up a finger, lining it up with the tail of the download progress bar in her HUD. She holds this pose for several seconds, a look of intense concentration frozen into her expression until the tip of the bar peeks just past where her finger is. "ALMOST THERE." Or so she thinks, anyway. These things have a bad habit of hanging at 99%.

"SO, HOW FRAGGED ARE WE? CAUSE IF IT’S BAD, WE MIGHT WANT TO ESTABLISH THAT BEFORE OUR LITTLE BUDDY CAN UNDERSTAND US." On that, she gently tosses the last trode patch toward Javad’s makeshift caretakers. "SPEAKING OF- DO ME A FAVOR AND STICK THIS ON HIM, YEAH?"

[GM Nick]

Mouse's agent cheerfully alerts her that the linguasoft is done downloading. She watches in AR as the package scuttles out of her storage and to the node representating the slaved trodes. In response to the beamed data, the trodes begin to pulse softly. Javad glances at the gadget but his face registers no emotion. It's clear that he's seen them before.

[John]

"Doubt I can tell you anything that Short Round doesn't already know about this place." Their eyes dart between Mouse and the kid, whose thousand mile stare makes a blank wall of his visage. The hook a thumb over their shoulder toward the gaping industrial maw from which they'd just emerged. "Whole lotta blood. Looks like somebody down that way got sick'a forbidding steel as their decor and decided to gussy it up with an accent wall." They scan the team and huff almost imperceptibly. "On the plus side, think I got a bead on a free handjob for Yung."

[MattL]

Yung chuckles softly at the jibe. "Wish we had the time omae." He fishes out another protein bar for Javad, tempting him as he takes a couple slow steps back toward the infirmary, beckoning the youth with sustenance like a candy man sans the Vantichrist.

"Good idea to get him cleaned up though, maybe we can do something to disassociate the madness."

Not likely though. He makes his best attempt at a comforting smile, the attempt landing somewhere between sympathetic and sardonic.

[Molly]

"WELL, THAT'S DISCONCERTING," Mouse notes dryly, marking what's undoubtedly the biggest understatement of this run. "NOT LEAST BECAUSE IT'S A CHANGE IN M.O. - APPARENTLY, WHATEVER'S ABOARD THIS SHIP DOES MORE THAN JUST LEAVE PILES OF BODIES AROUND." There could even be multiple killers on board, though she tries to quell her 'worst case scenario' theorizing before it takes off.

"AND YEAH, HE COULD PROBABLY DO WITH SOME NORMALCY… OR AT LEAST THE CLOSEST APPROXIMATION HE CAN GET ON BOARD A MURDER-SHIP." Her words carry a forced lightness to them, a thinly veiled attempt to stuff down the scale of the tragedy unfolding before them, embodied foremost in the kid before them. "MAYBE THAT'S WHY I WANTED TO GET THE GURO TALK OUT OF THE WAY." She catches herself staring at the kid again, as if he were at once both a puzzle to decipher, and a long lost relative she couldn't quite place, the two of them joined by some common thread of fate, tangled up in the tragedies they've survived.

"IT'S PROBABLY SILLY, BUT IF THIS REALLY IS THE FIRST TIME HE CAN UNDERSTAND US, IT SHOULD BE SOMETHING HE NEEDS TO HEAR. NOT JUST US YAKKING ABOUT THE LOCAL GORE MURALS." Her gaze shies away from Mick and Yung, keenly aware of the irrationality of this impulse, particularly in a time like this. The priority needs to be moving forward, getting out, not forcing the others to play along with her glorified superstition.

[GM Nick]

Yung secures the trode on Javad's head, which proves more difficult than it should be thanks to his shaggy, unkempt hair. Once satisifed with the placement, he steps back. Javad's expression doesn't change, but his pupils dilate a perceptible amount. Where before he sort of gazed in the general direction of a chosen few of the runners, now he turns his head towards whomever is speaking.

The young boy glances over his shoulder at the corridor, as if suddenly remembering something. His gaze lingers on empty space for a while before returning to the group of adults in front of him.

[Drew Buddy]

Axel stares blankly at the display, puzzling out what he's seeing. It suddenly occurs to him that he's been standing in place for quite some time. He shakes his head, and finally looks up from his hyperfocus.

"Hey gang, uh, I have and haven't found the power drain." He clenches and unclenches his hands in a display of powerlessness. "It's, somehow, in Frankenstein's laboratory back there."

He goes silent for a moment, then takes a sharp inhalation of breath. "Ah," he says, bypassing the far more efficient mental commands for natural and body language commands he prefers to use with his drones when not under threat, "kids, head back to the lab, and give me a full thermal sweep. I'm looking for anything giving off more heat than it should."

[GM Nick]

Achak gently places his hand on Javad's shoulder and guides him towards the door. "I will protect the boy-- what Mick saw means we may not be alone down here."

[John]

Mick scoffs. "I didn't realize 'we may be alone down here' was an option." The ork nods in response to Axel's prompt. "Mouse, Yung, Achak, why don't you head back to the infirmary with the kid and take a look around for the power drain? Reiya and I will stay here with Axel so nothing that goes bump in the night decides to go bump up our rigger-friend's hoop without an audience."

[Drew Buddy]

Axel glances nervously at the door that Wind and Whirlwind, his main sources of personal security, have gone through. He cracks a nervous grin, and hopes his voice doesn't waver.

"Pshh," he says, waving his hand simultaneously too casually and dramatically at the panel, "Thanks, omae, but I think I've got all I can work out from here. Let's stick together."

[Molly]

"THAT’S RIGHT: WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER. IF THERE'S GOING TO BE ANY BUTT STUFF, IT'LL HAVE TO BE WITH ALL OF US." Mouse throws in her agreement with a disturbing abundance of enthusiasm. This declaration , meanwhile, conjures a stray thought about how 'butt stuff' would translate across languages, which in turn serves as a reminder of more pressing matters at hand. "...BY THE WAY, OTOUTO CAN UNDERSTAND US ALL NOW, IN CASE THAT WASN'T OBVIOUS."

[John]

"Maximize the talk of butt stuff, is what you're saying." Mick grins, glancing at Javad. " Sorry for chasing after you before, didn't mean to scare ya. We're here to help kid. My name's Mick." They gesture to the group's face. "You've already met Yung. Hey, let's head over and get you cleaned up, yeah?" Not wanting to spook the kid, the ork hooks a thumb toward the infirmary and starts moving in that direction.

[GM Nick]

Dice

Axel - Perception - 5, 5, 5, 6, 2, 2, 3, 4 (4 hits on 8 dice)

The group arrives back in the strange, makeshift infirmary. Achak sits Javad down on a cot and begins scrubbing off stains with alcohol wipes. Meanwhile, Axel scours the area with renewed skepticism. He stomps on every floor panel, knocks on the walls and even begins disassembling equipment.

Several minutes elapse before Axel laughs triumphantly. The rigger has discovered a false bottom in one of the cabinets. He swipes aside packets of gauze and slides the panel out, revealing a large electrical relay with a safety switch.

[Drew Buddy]

Axel regards the switch for a long moment. Perhaps its the fact that they're on a horror-filled haunted ship, but a faint memory comes back from... Maybe a fantasy novel? Something about seven seals. He regards the switch and relay more warily.

"Well, found where all that power is going through, but still not where it goes." His fingers brush the switch. "Anyone wanna do something potentially stupid?"