World Tree MUSH

     "So, tell me again, why are we getting this close to Solar?" 

     The voice clearly heard over the communications line belongs to Gregg, ex-Venomian Unit that served under Andross in the Lylat Wars. After the collapse of Venomian lines after the fall of his boss, he fled the aftermath and clean-up by the Cornerian Alliance, like many others, in safe houses set up throughout the system. Back then, Wolf O'Donnell was just a merc, an ex-pirate whose forces were originally destroyed in his epic clash with James McCloud and Cornerian fighters in Sector Z. His small ship flies in loose formation with the rest of the other members of Star Wolf present. Definitely one of the family, he's fully comfortable being casually conversational even amongst the likes of Lord O'Donnell and Panther Caluroso. Leon is not present. 

     Indeed, the Red Giant burns hot at this proximity and takes up about 90 degrees of the longitudinal spatial coordinates in view to the naked eye. However, it is still well outside the star's main corona so heat striking the shielded ships is limited to normal solar winds. It is a beautiful sight, but also somewhat intimidating...even this far away. 

     "There's a Space Station that serves as a research hub in Solar activity that we need to check in with. We have a client here that works for an independent company and he has a fondness for a few comforts that are otherwise illegal to ship in through customs and we happen to be in the area." That voice belongs to Wolf O'Donnell, leader and boss of the well-known mercenary and pirate organization Star Wolf. His face shows up clear on the comms panel as he speaks, relaxed and perhaps even silently enjoying the astral sights as the red glow from Solar mixes with the purple of his good eye. "What do you think he'll order this time, Panther?" 

     There's a bit of a wait before the feline pilot responds and, as he does, the sound of Flamenco music playing in the background accompanies his smooth voice. "Probably more alcohol. My money is on a distillate from the Vidarian System. I'm starting to think his machines run on the stuff, but that's something Fionn knows more about. Heh! Isn't that right?" It's clear to whom that question is directed.

     A ship like the Khamsin excels in this environment. As long as it's not being shot at. The fighter is easily identified with its one-red wing being its major insignia, and tends to drift starboard and rear of the main formation. "You'd be an idiot not to be running on solar batteries" Fionn remarks. It's a textbook assessment, his legs crossed on his dash and ears twitching along to the faint pipes of Flamenco. It crosses up oddly with his pop, which plays much quieter. 

     He shifts and sits up, adjusting his earpiece. "'course it's fine men like you and me that run on a well mixed drink, isn't it? Maybe we can throw in some snack cakes while we're at it. The menu on remotes is abysmal" Teasing chatter continues anon. As long as the money's good, this is just another low-risk high-reward run in the making.

     "That's...odd," comments Wolf amidst the casual banter. The vidcomm signal shows the middle-aged and graying wolf leaning forward to tinker with controls on his dashboard panels before scratching over his chin with a squint and one side of his muzzle raising a lip to expose teeth. "Can one of you confirm that the station is up ahead?" He looks up from his instruments to stare through the canopy. His HMD assists this good long hard look. "We should pretty much be able to see it by now." 

     There is no station, though, and it's not a failure on Wolf's Wolven's behalf. Orbital scheduling shows that it should be there. But it isn't. And there's no sign of it. "I've got nothing," admits Panther, the music stopped in playing mid-sentence. 

     "Same here, Boss," affirms Gregg. 

     Wolf sighs over the open comms link and increases ship acceleration by twelve percent. "Okay, apparently it's possible to misplace a space station. Let's find where it is. Spread out and we'll triangulate through our scans for better resolution." 

     "Another day in paradise," comments Caluroso as he breaks the casual formation to do just that. Much like Wolf, both Gregg and Panther speed up a bit. 

     "How do you lose a space station?" Gregg vocalizes in minor disbelief.

     Fionn's ear twitches. How does one lose a space station with no debris, no remnant signatures? "Either your sensors are bucked, or it's gone. We'd have picked up on something a lot sooner if something unfortunate happened to it, though." And as for the former? He's the one who calibrates them. It's not even a possibility. 

     The Khamsin breaks and tilts off towards the southern pole with a few thruster flares. "Radiation is interfering with a lot of the instruments hm. That might work. Get a bit closer and rotate your thermal shielding to this frequency I'll forward it over. The station's shielding should leave a refractive trail and I can pick that out of the differential" 

     If Fennecs could sweat, he'd still be cool. Though he draws his legs down and sits up straight once he starts putting the pieces together. "That's not good. I think it's been thrown off its project orbit. The decay is incremental enough they wouldn't have noticed until the tipping point" He tacks a few more switches. "Lord O'Donnell. I think our friend has wandered off to these coordinates." The Khamsin tacks into a drift, but being in command, the order is his to give.

     Sure enough, the space station seems to be located way too far within Solar's coronal sphere. Now, being a Red Giant, there is far less activity and the corona extends much less than younger brighter stars. Lylat, for example, burns so blue and hot and fierce that its corona makes it greatly unapproachable even with current World tech levels at a great distance. 

     "That's not good," adds Panther as he looks over the information feed made available by the engineer's calculations. "If what you say is true, I'd give them...four or five days, max, before they're torn apart by the heat and gravity. That research station isn't built for that kind of strain." It's a very grim thought. The four Star Wolf members present don't have the means to really mass evacuate and even with fast ships, space travel takes time. 

     "Boss, the last records we have show about thirty-two people on the station." Gregg shakes his head as he pulls up documents on the structure and personnel records that are made public. "Come to think of it, their last transmission reported nothing wrong. That was...four days ago." That is a huge shift in distance over only four days. Something must be terribly wrong. 

     "All right. Let's approach and see if we can get through to them with short range comms. Worse comes to worse, we'll board the station and see if it's possible to schedule a proper evacuation." Wolf's Wolfen's plasma engines burn hotter as he kicks up his acceleration even greater. G-Diffusion gravity bubbling allows for no additional internal shifting of mass and no forces felt even in the sudden boost. Clearly the four of them need to work fast. Wolf isn't heartless, but neither is he completely altruistic. After all, saving these researchers means they get a leg up with an independent research company. And it's not Space Dynamics Co., Ltd.

     A myriad of possibilities occur to Fionn, little flashes of imagination that he dimisses. "Five days if you're squeezing your systems. Six with complications at that point the station's past the point of no return though." He blows one of his ears up a bit and gives a little nod. "They've got a problem. Maybe we can fix it." 

     None of which matters until they have a proper sense of it. Fionn doesn't announce it, but he's making on-the-fly adjustments to try to give comms a boost. It'd be fractional, but every bit counts. "You don't put a station on the sun without putting some emergency systems in place. Unless you're some kind of Toad"

     Entering the corona of Solar is an obvious thing. Like most stars, the heat in the corona -- the star's outermost layer filled with plasma spread about by the intense magnetic forces created -- can get much hotter than the very surface of the Red Giant itself. The shielding for each starship is going to immediately be put to work as is protects the occupants from the plasma and radiation. It's not enough to be a danger, but it is an unquestionable point for keeping in mind. 

     The image of the star grows marginally larger, and especially when one is flying toward it the roiling mass takes up most of what can be seen when looking out of the cockpit. And then, there it is, starting as a dark dot in contrast to the star behind it and slowly growing into shape as the station it is. Wolf, Panther, and Gregg say nothing as they near and Fionn, despite his expert calculations, doesn't seem to be getting much a reply from his attempts at boosting the comms signal. Up until there's some static, anyway, with a garbled transmission that is very difficult to make out. However, after about twenty seconds, the corrupted audio seems to repeat itself. 

     "Sounds like a distress call. If you can clear that up, maybe we can find out what went wrong," states Wolf. "Otherwise, let's get in closer and prepare to dock." 

     Wolf has nothing to add that the other pilots don't already know. It sucks going in blind, but this is clearly a very bad situation to be in. However, Gregg speaks up as he leans over to examine a reading. "Anybody else seeing that MFL suddenly sweep over us?" By that he means Magnetic Field Line, and, indeed, the instruments allow a visualization of the veritable vortex of twisting magnetic lines suddenly shooting by. The field is so large that is practically all encompassing. The ships feel nothing from it. 

     "MFL?" asks Panther and double-checks the reading. His eyes widen and he calls out to Wolf, but is immediately cut off by the lupine merc. 

     "Shit! It's a CME! Power down your G-Diffusers bef-!" 

     There's very little warning else before the comms immediately cut out and all visual observation is filled with nothing but blinding white light. The shields all go immediately into critical as a massive eruption of plasma from the star's surface envelops all four of the pilots. There is an automatic correction in the canopy's filter that takes a few seconds to kick in. Multiple alarms beep as systems overload and, for Panther, Wolf, and Gregg, their G-Diffusers go completely offline. The canopy filtering, once it kicks in, allows some visual perception of nearby wingmen. The roar of the superheated gas causes the cabin to start overheating and there is no other sound to be heard whatsoever. Amidst the deafening flow, the image of Gregg's ship can be seen. There is an internal fire, it appears, but it doesn't last long. The shielding on his ship fails and there's but a single last glance given to the others before he's washed away. 

     A few seconds pass, the eruption ends, and Gregg is nowhere to be seen. There is no trace. 

     Wolf O'Donnell tries his comms, but they've gone down and he tries to gesture toward the station. He has no choice but to dock. Panther follows behind, the ships slower than normal, as the acceleration can clearly be felt amidst the free-falling sensation of microgravity. Without those G-Diffusers online, there's no chance of making it through another flare of activity.

     "Yep. That's our boy there. Hell of a risk for a trap if you ever thought there was one. Still..." The fennec's imagination starts preparing for the worst, but he can't quite prepare for what's to come. Not the plasma; he's quick on a switch and knows how to handle it before Wolf even barks the order. What comes next, that sense of powerlessness, unpreparednes... 

     Fortunately, in space, no one can hear you swear. A litany of words too unkind to mention escape Fionn as he pounds at his cockpit. As if he could get Gregg's attention. Screaming instructions as if they'd be heard. As if they'd work. Then at last, in the swelter, he sits down in his seat and resumes his way. "Idiot," he mutters. "You stupid..." It's a different heat from home. Different from the hard grip of the Papetoon wastes, but no more forgiving. There's not else to do but beeline for the station.

"Stellar activity indicating a Coronal Mass Ejection Operator. Shifting orbit to avoid." Ordis's calm voice washed through the habitable compartment of Ash's frannkly ugly orbital craft. "Scanning for-" Ordis paused and replaced the forward window's view of the aged star with a close up magnification of a space station orbiting far closer to the star than its designe permitted.

"Ordis can yo uclean up those transmissions?" Ash worked a series of touch controls that hovered in place at the orbiter's navigation station. the IFFs were definitely Star-Wolf.

"Negative Operator. There's simply too much interferance and," The mass ejection of stellar material washed over Wolf's squadron. Ordis was silent as the crafts slowly docked with the station. 

"Prepare the lander Ordis," Ash sounded mroe confident than he felt. His ship was a stealth vessel, not a combat pod or tug. "No gurentees any of them can leave the gravity well."

"Landing craft will be able to safely interface with the station here." The display shifted to show a close-up view of the station's layout with a pointer indicating where Ash would make station-fall.

As Ash's lander detahed and flew towards the station Wolf, Fionn, ad therest of the squad may see a brief ripple showcasing a large altogether unaerodynamic craft beforea far smaller craft detached. As this craft flew towards the station they mighth ear transmissions, but more likely it would be eaten up by the star's own magnetic flux and charged particals. "THis is Ash of the Tenno craft Wayfinder. If anyone can hear this transmission I am docking to render any assitance I can. I repete. I am hear to render assistace and assist in station evac." This would vary with several repetitions until the craft docked.

Ash would be left stepping from the lander into the station's own docking area armed with a sword, pistol, and looking like he wasn't interested in using either. Instead anyone on station would hear Ash's radio, "Alright. Who else is here?" He thought the craft that had docked looked like O'Donald's, Panther's, and company, but he wasn't sure. "Comm check. Who's here?"

In turn those of Star Wolf would probably, assuming they bothered looking, noticed star-wolf livery on Ash's landing craft.

     It's a sobering feeling, limping into one of the docking bays of the station, but even that is a rough time. There are no active automated systems for lining up and orienting. It all has to be done by hand and best judgment; most of instrument panels on the Wolfens display errors. The whole system on each needs to be reset. Thankfully, their shielding held, too. Even if comms weren't damaged by the critical overloads, Wolf would have nothing to say. He's rather cold to the notion of losing somebody that's served beside him through two system-wide wars and countless other operations. His cyclopean focus settles on the immediate task at hand in order to have a chance of getting out of this mess alive. 

     There are three docking bays on the station; the one Wolf and Panther wobble and bang into is a wreck, but at least the station still has artificial gravity. The remnant of a few ships appear to have been thrown around and are damaged. The containment field between the bay and space is not functioning correctly. And the first casualties of the incident can be seen. A few people seem to have run for their ships to flee, but if the containment field failed, it would either be the sudden spike of heat or the vacuous cold to do them in. It's not a pretty sight. 

     Wolf and Panther both put on their emergency helmets and depressurize the cabins before opening the canopy. The time it takes to reach the floor of the bay from the height of the cockpits of the Wolfens shows another important detail: while there is artificial gravity, it's a bit wonky, a little too weak. 

     Wolf can only hear his own breathing. His personal communicator is linked through the Wolfen for range, but with the Wolfen currently dead in the water, all he can do is stay quiet and try to calmly breathe while working his way to the bay's control center. The doors have been locked down, likely as an emergency measure against the failed force field -- with limited tools, they're going to have to get that field back up and working to release lockdown or else override the lockdown and risk depressurizing more of the station's current deck. 

     Panther approaches Wolf and the two of them try to use their combined strength to get the damnable door open. Their emergency air supply isn't limitless. 

     Ash's attempt to communicate is not registered by Wolf or Panther. They are busy, focused, relying on nonverbal communication to try to take their first steps into both securing the bay so it's safe to do repairs and gain entry to the station itself to see what the damage is.

     By the time Fionn has arrived and begun the docking process, he's already thinking through repair priorities. It's uncomfortable, but they could cram two to a ship if that's all they can bring online. Four days. Provided the station held without complications. And that's not even considering the possible evacuation plan. No. Find problems, and then solutions. That's how engineers work best. 
     He plunks down in the same bay as his officers, barely adding much more to consider. Then comes the suit--try not to laugh at the comically large triangles on the helmet, this is no laughing situation--and finally the flicker as he brings his personal field online. A cursory walk-along is given with Wolf and Panther, but he makes his intentions clear off the bat with a gesture of his open palms and grasping at his wrench. Getting the field, and the atmo back would go a long way in letting them fix up. Nevermind that whole lovely breathing thing.

the bay was a mess. Also it didn't have air, which was a problem for Ash since his warframe needed air.

"Deploying Archwing," Ordis's calm voice informed as Ash's archwing unclamped from the landing craft and affixed to his warframe's spine, supplying him with air and allowing him to better survey the fairly obviously unplanned decompression.

He held his right hand near his sword hilt as he looked about, marking the location of bodies with waypoints as he came across the dead and took pictures of each for identification. 

"Comm check." Ash's voice was outwardly calm, though experianced hands such as Wolf, panther, or Fionn would note undercurrents of un-ease. "So far no hostiles."

He drifted towards the door leading from the docking bay to the station proper and waited both because he was unsure if the station would have shielding to keep any remaining internal air from escaping, and because he had a feeling his warframe with the archwing pack would be too large. So since he liked breathing and didn't want to be the cause of any survivors to not be able to anymore, he waited.

     Wolf stubbornly pries at the door even as Panther takes a step back. The feline taps the lupine on the shoulder to get his attention before pointing over to the fennec. Wolf is a strong beast; this is without doubt. But the mechanical shutdown of the command room is far too much even for his brute efforts. There is a flash of frustration before he takes a step back and gestures with his arms for the engineer to have a go at it. A cold stare is given to Panther. Caluroso's expression is somber, but he acknowledges Wolf's gaze with a nod. And then they both turn to face the armored suit they are familiar with...even if it has some sort of extra addition attached to it this time. Again, Wolf's one-eyed gaze says nothing about his thoughts. He doesn't have to say anything. Idle chatter would be pointless anyway. 

     O'Donnell turns to watch over Fionn's efforts while Panther walks over to Ash and reaches out to give the Frame a pat on the shoulder and points to his throat, he mouths a couple of words, and then shrugs. If he actually said anything, it can't be heard in the vacuum of the bay. 

     Time next progresses as a matter of work by the tooled one, in a measure of time based entirely on how fast he is able to work to get that door to the bay's controls open. There is no sound when he succeeds. No grand fanfare in celebration. No words of thanks. The door simply opens and the air that is inside pushes free. The first noticeable thing is the wave of heat that pushes out with it. While brief, it's notably very hot. Wolf does not press in before Fionn, but he does quickly survey the inside of the control room for anybody. 

     There is nobody. The control room is empty. It is relatively small for the job it serves, but everything needed for maintenance and control of the main docking bay is present. A few on the panels look to have shorted out, probably from the same power surges of overloaded systems that have caused damage through the station. What comes next falls upon Fionn: if he's able to get the field back up and start the pressurization process, they're going to quickly discover that the air, while breathable, is uncomfortably hot. It threatens to be an indication of the poor state of the rest of the orbiting platform.

     Fionn glances back over his shoulder at the stranger in the bay with them. He'll have thoughts for him later. Words, especially, about his ship. Possibly praise if it's kept up remotely to his standards. And the rest, well, Panther was the people person. He's got work to do, and focus keeps him from dwelling too long on the loss of a comrade. 

     One of three locking systems it could be, and the second one hits paydirt when the system itself is convinced that everything is a-okay and it can open right up. Fixing the bay, though, is going to be another matter altogether. He adjusts his shielding, rolls onto his back, and pulls a roll of small printed tools off of his belt. You could hardly tell they were aged, were it not for the wear on the grips. Then it's just a question of what can be patched, what can be rerouted, and when he's going to have to go scuttling about for spare parts to rip out.

Ash's gaze was brought from Wolf's efforts to get hte door open, to Panther and brought up a hand to make an affirmitive thumbs up. Non-verbal only. Message recieved. This, along with many other things up to and including just hwo radically diffrent his ship and suit were marked him as an outsider amongst the group.

Still, the whole idea here was to learn. Right?

As Fionn worked on the door Ash seemed to just... Drift. He held a relaxed posture as he waited. During this time he got up from the transferrence system to stretch his physical legs, pester Ordis on the star's output, and otherwise take advantage of the stronger link his warframe's transferrence ran off of to hopefully get something on the star the station orbited. 

Maybe Wolf or Panther or one of the others would catch Ash's seemingly momentary lapse into non-motion. Maybe they wouldn't. However by the time Ash had re-established his interface others were entering the station propper. 

Ash held a hand up palm forward as the hot air pushed against his suit. He hated disengaging the archwing, but did so for the sake of not getting pinballed about by stray air currents. 

Ash didn't like the lack of archwing as his warframe was going off essentially an internal store of air, lasting maybe a few minutes at most before needing to be topped off. However until he neded to step out and interface with the archwing he could work just fine. 

"Ordis can you make anything out from my warframe's sensor stream?"

"No," Ordis sounded concerned, "THen again the technology is," the cephelon'svoice glitched, "AN ALIEN ME-M-MESS" and then the moment was gone and Ordis's voice returned, "borderline incompatible with my precepts. It would be unwise to attempt an interface."

"Right," Ash huffed in irritation. "So what good am I doing here?" Ash then walked over to Panther and after tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention would point to the door they walked in from before making a series of circular motions in attempt to convey that he was going to go fly around the station to see what he could see. He would pause then and hold up five fingers on his other hand before starting towards the door. He was of little use in this room, but maybe he could find something helpful outside.

Cue a lone tenno flying an archwing around trying not to look directly into the sun when he's literally in its atmosphere. Ther'es a joke here about icarus, but Ash wouldn't enjoy the punchline.

     Caluroso looks confused at the notion of what is being conveyed, but the meaning to the gestures become apparent soon thereafter as Ash removes himself from the main bay. The feline puts his hands on his hips and tips his head slightly to side as he watches this marvel of a departure. Wolf stands in the doorway to the control room at first, watching Fionn work as he waits; there's simply no getting into the rest of the station for them there without that containment field up and pressurization completed. 

     From outside the station, however, it's a right mess. It would seem that most of the station's decks still have shielding operational, but a few patches do not. In fact, it's rather obvious which parts don't. Near the top of the station, where one of the shield relays are (they are usually kept on opposite ends of structures, much like the spacecrafts used), part of the main support for the station has almost completely melted through. Nonetheless, it continues to operate in a slow spin providing unreliable shielding in spotty areas -- that rotating motion, combined with the magnetic and gravitational strains, is going to eventually lead to a catastrophic failure when the support gives completely. 

     That won't drop shielding on the entire station, though. The lower parts of the station, where the main and secondary docking bays are located, should still be protected, but the tertiary docking bay and those upper decks will most certainly fry. That said, the tertiary docking bay up in the danger area does have a functioning containment shield. Also of note, the damage parts of the station from shielding loss has lead to fires. Those fires are clearly spreading internally, albeit slowly. 

     Eventually, Wolf gets tired of standing and watching Fionn work and trades out with Panther. He can help play fetch, if needed. Wolf, instead, wanders over to the main door leading into the station. The moment the bay is able to be pressurized and it's safe to advance, he's going to be ready to do so. Time is of the essence. Honestly, he's not even sure if there are survivors. Solar's atmosphere makes getting proper readings on those kinds of things very difficult.

     Fionn could hardly be thrilled to be here too long himself. Even if he's content with the heat and the guts of the machine, he needs to know what else is about ready to blow. That means readings, diagaonistics, and hopefully someone who can actually tell the story. Which is why he won't just blow open every airlock to put out the fires. Yet. Even being smack on a sun, the flames need something to burn. 
     Neither here nor there. He finds the slagged panel and throws it out; the cacophony muted as he digs wrist-deep into cable and a thin line of light as he welds new connections in. A bypass which deprives some of the anterior chambers of containment, unfortunately. Then there's a flicker, like a layer of thin electronic membrance thrown over. A few system checks to greenlight repressuization, and then there's a hissing noise at the vents in the room. Reinitalizing the atmospheric support. It's hardly comfortable, though; the bare minimum to breathe and stand safely and it's getting as hot as a jungle in there. Habitable, at least.

It was times like this that Ash was grateful his warframe could record its sensor feeds since trying to convey all of htis with hand gestures, or even him attemptign to explain, was problematic. Too much to convey. Instead he wouldm ake several closer passes at what looked like most likely spots for survivors.

Eventually he would return to find Wolf waiting by the main door. He would then put a hand on Wolf's shoulder and then pass a datapad over showing his flyby from a literal warframe's eye view as well as Ordis's own readings. In fairness, Ordis was designed for takign care of the Tenno and getting them from place to place rather than scientific study. However a ship designed to find the best place and route for a given mission would probably also help give a decent amount of information about the station at large.... even if only part of this would be actually useful information.

And then there was air. Even so Ash kept the archwing strapped on because he trusted it more than a failing station's oxygen producing capacity.

     O'Donnell finds a datapad handed over -- this is the same kind of pad the youth used to display some of the recorded feed of his ability to 'work' when they met in that bar on Macbeth. The feed is looked over even as the containment field snaps on and air is allowed to rush into fill the vacancy. But it's so hot! Wolf almost doesn't want to take his helmet off, but for the sake of communication, until comms are fixed on the Wolfens, he does so. Panther follows suit and is the first to complain about it. 

     Wolf points at some details in the pass. "Main offices are going to be around there." He points to the tertiary docking bay that seems to still be protected. "Living quarters below that. I'm not certain, but the labs are probably on these decks, along with storage. Here, how can I go back...there was some nasty damage to the support." Panther walks over and the Boss hands the pad over to him. "You and Fionn make of that what you can." 

     Panther Caluroso takes the pad and studies it for a moment. "I think you're right. If that shield relay goes, not only will we lose half the station to the radiation, but it could completely compromise the platform's structural integrity." The dark-furred cat looks over at Ash and nods, "Good job. Without knowing that much, we could've be caught up there when it fails. Not the kind of sunny vacation I enjoy." 

     "Panther," commands Wolf, "You stay with Fionn and get those ships operational as soon as you can. Deathbot here and I are going to head up to the upper decks since that area has the least time left. There seemed to be another access point for ships up there; chances are survivors are going to be try gathering there in case of rescue. That's us, people, but I want to be able to rescue ourselves, too." 

     That means, of course, that Wolf will be off-comms until they get brought back up. O'Donnell turns and opens the door leading to the rest of the deck. It slides open. A body immediately falls forward into his arms. "Oof!" His helmet is dropped as he reflexively grabs and supports the target and then kneels down to place them on the floor. "Somebody give me a hand here!" He leans in to try to hear signs of breathing.

Ash nodded at Panther's compliment. "My main craft can hold maybe a dozen." He doubted there were that many left, "And the lander probably is in better shape than your ships." He frowned inside the transferrnece pod as he considered his words.

In that pause WOlf spoke up. Given this was effectivly on site command Ash cut off whatever he might have saidi n favor of paying attention to the plan.

Then the body fell from the freshly opened door, causing ash to dash forward to attempt to grab the poor soul by their armpits and hold them upright while sliding back

     Some heat Fionn likes. Even extreme heat. But there's something about failing life support and humidity that just makes it slightly less enjoyable. He pulls his helmet off and straps it to his side, ears unfurling one at a time. "You know your way around your own boat, yeah?" Fionn asks of Panther, glancing his way. "I'm gonna start on Wolf's. Just do a flash on the on-board and get it reset for now. That'll at least give us comms while I see if there's any other damage..." 

     Tools rolled back up but not stowed, he has no time for chit chat. As much as he loves new people. He does give Ash a brief nod, a curious glance. "... my ship can hold one or two. But it would not be comfortable." And by that, the average soul would likely find it 'nightmare inducing.'

     The canine whom has fallen through the opening door from the docking bay to the rest of the deck seems to be breathing. Barely. Thus the group find their first survivor. 

     If one considers the circumstances of the situation it's easy to see how finding one person still alive might seem a miracle. The research space station has been orbiting the system's Red Giant, Solar, for nearly a decade. Owned by an independent research company apart from the main giants such as Space Dynamics Co., Ltd. (otherwise known as Arspace with their creation of the Arwing Fighter), this station is designed to study the massively cool-in-temperature Solar in an effort to understand how the inner workings of the stellar mass and how extremophiles are able to able to live near the surface of the star itself. No previous discovers in any of the other star systems have returned such findings. It is this reason that Solar, despite being a star, is often nicknamed The Molten Planet. 

     However, for some unknown reason, the station is now located within Solar's atmosphere and is in rapid orbital decay when it was just fine four days previous. To make matters worse, something is causing Solar to experience massive agitation locally. Flares and solar prominences are one thing, and quite dangerous, but nothing as bad as coronal mass ejections. Solar is, for some reason experiencing all three in the area where the station is located. The orbital platform is heavily damaged; while most shielding is still up, some parts of the station are without such radiation and heat protection and have been destroyed. The primary shield generator on the station's northern pole is operational and spinning away, but the support has been damaged and the rotational force, combined with the strain of gravity and magnetic forces, is weakening that support with each movement. When it goes, the upper half of the station will be exposed to the raw heat and plasma of the corona. Any survivors and any research data recorded regarding the cause of this incident will be lost if they are in that area. 

     The initial group to discover this disaster was Star Wolf: Wolf, Panther, Fionn, and Gregg tracked down the missing station to discover it was in trouble, but stellar activity nearly completely disabled their ships. Gregg was lost in the event, but the others managed to dock in the main docking bay, despite it being heavily damaged. They were joined soon thereafter by Ash. The secondary docking bay seems impossible to use. The tertiary bay seems to be working just fine, but it's on the upper floors of the station in the current danger zone. Then again, the clock is ticking. How long before the strain of being so close to the abnormally active star causes the entire structure to fail?

     The last transmission to go out before Star Wolf lost comms: "Sounds like a distress call, grrrblriugflksa prepare to dock. Yeah, that's our boy, there. Hell of a risk for sqiuflaldk -- anybody fsdljajhdfoiw MFL sweep ove- SKRRT! MFL? Bwwrsk CME, power down your G-Diffusers bef- Tsskwllllvp..." The original distress call is too weak and garbled to transmit too far, but the other transmissions seem to hint at a disaster and stellar activity. The transmissions have coordinates encoded, along with timestamps. A check would reveal which station is talked about and that it staffs 32 employees. They may be in need of full-scale evacuation; chances are the ones caught in the event didn't have time to get a transmission out to call one in before it was too late. Anybody able to actually hear the transmission now might be wise to do so. 

     Wolf, Panther, and Ash are faced with a survivor, however. The dog looks exhausted, probably due to the extreme heat. The station's cooling is clearly not able to function very well with so many system's damaged. The air inside is hot. HOT. And the longer exposure to it lasts, the more oppressive and draining it becomes to those sensitive to it. Panther rushes off to fetch a medical kit from his Wolfen amidst the lower-than-average gravity aboard the station in order to help treat the dog whom is unconscious. Wolf already has Panther ordered to help Fionn with any ship repairs in order to restore communication capabilities to the Wolfens, but now it would seem that Panther is going to have to play doctor, too. 

     "Take care of this and see if you can get answers out of him if he wakes up," directs the lupine of the feline and the vulpine in addition to other duties. "The kid and I don't have time to stay here, we have to get moving and head for those upper decks." The wolf reaches over to give the Frame a nudge before a jerk with his chin toward the open door to the rest of the deck. They need to work their way to the lifts and see if they are functional, head up as far as they can, and hoof it the rest of the way up through some unpleasantly damaged parts of the station. Fires have broken out and some structural support is failing because of them. Hopefully any survivors found on the way can make their own way to the main docking bay. If not, they're have to wait until the upper decks are cleared. 

     Panther nods to Fionn as he does some very basic First Aid for the dog scientist. "Don't you worry, we'll have things up and working again in a manner of minutes." The cool-headed hitman sounds confident enough, but maybe that's just his nature.

Ash was a fighter, not a salvager, medic, or especially a Scientist. So he cheerfully took Wolf's lead on any actions that needed taking since his weapons would likely be useless. He was annoyed he didn't have a gammacore on hand since a narrow high intensity cuttingbeam would be the exact sort of tool they could use right then, but one worked with what one had. Fortunately what was on hand included his archwing, which had been used before this point to get a closer examination of the station proper, which is why they were confident there were other survivors in the first place. Unfortunately Ash couldn't use the archwing within the station proper, but it would hopefully respond to a call if he needed it at his position.

Meanwhile Ordis was retransmitting a destress call complete with general asessment of the station's condition on as many active bands as he could cycle through. Ash's ship was not intended as a salvage tug or engineering craft. The lander portion was docked with Star Wolf's Wulfen craft as the main orbiter was well clear of the stellar mass, and along with it the majority of the star's offending radiation.

After receiving transmissions from both Wolf and Ash about the situation near Solar, Krystal was quick to act, relaying the information to the Cornerian military. She might be a little late to arrive on the scene, but arriving with her is a small squadron of Cornerian ships, mostly a few fighters and empty troop carriers to help evacuate any survivors. 

 Krystal happens to be on one of the troop carriers, having volunteered her assistance, and after reaching out with her telepathy to see what the situation is on the station, she directs the ship to the upper deck docking bay, and requests an engineer to go aboard to try and stabilize the shield generator as much as possible. Once she enters the upper deck of the station, she starts moving to join Wolf and the rest of his crew, to see what they may need an d what else she can do to help here.

     Fionn is itching to give someone on the station a good chewing out. Once they're alive and well. Whatever catastrophe occured, surely it could have been prevented with the right foresight and the right technology. Nevermind their ~own~ ships got thrown out of commission. He crawls into Wolf's cockpit and ducks underneath the dash, giving a quick survey to make sure none of the hardware fused before finding the little flick to hard reset the systems. It's a silent process, aside from the one flash in the power cells to reset the internal clocks. 

     By then Wolf and Ash were likely out of earshot. He flicks an ear and leans over the edge of the ship's one-man deck and calls over. "I'm gonna try to get our short-range up and running again. Can you put some chatter out? It'll help me clean up the signal." He starts running systems checks... right now all that comes in over the comms is crackles and static. Of course, even with all his work he's not one to pass notice on a squadron approaching, no matter how small. "Tch. Lot of good samaritans out today, huh...?" Party on the burning float, everyone.

     The deck that the main docking bay is located on also serves as storage with some basic administrative stations set up. It's clear that some of these areas double as lab testing areas. They must use a lot of computing power for the things they do: many terminals are set up, but the mainframe doesn't appear to be located anywhere in sight. Otherwise, the corridors are fairly straightforward enough. The main lifts to access other parts of the smaller space station are pretty much where one would expect them to be. Damage to this area is minimal. There are no fires, but neither are there any other casualties. The main issue is that, the deeper in one goes, the hotter the air seems to grow. It's a sweltering unforgiving heat that tells of some serious internal issues. Obviously the cooling is working at least some, but that could be spotty in location, as well, which is a scary thought concerning areas that aren't being cooled at all. 

     O'Donnell gestures to the lift to allow Ash to check its functionality while he scours the nearby area for the thing that he's looking for: a maintenance hatch. Tugging on the latch, it doesn't want to give, so the merc draws his blaster and uses it to break the latch off with a few blows, then yanks the panel open. Within, ladders and tunnels. And if the open air of the deck felt hot, those tunnels are even worse. Still, he leans in to look up and, thankfully, for what he can see the way is clear. It's a slow path, though. "How's that lift looking?" Already the heat seems to be taking its toll on the aging space pirate. It shows in small ways, but Wolf is too stubborn to let it get him down. "Does the shaft look clear? We need to move," says Wolf. The shaft an option, he moves over to step into the lift itself to see how far it can take them. 

     To any on approach, it becomes immediately clear how dangerous the mission is: The station is in a bad way, practically a speck against the background of Solar, and while the heat and plasma inside the corona of the star isn't an issue for those with proper shields (and neither is the magnetic and gravitational strain much problem for those with G-Diffusion units), it's the violent flares spewing from the star's surface that are the problems. Something, somehow, somewhere is causing some major stellar agitation. The station's shields are mostly holding, but it's a very dire situation all around. 

     The upper decks, unlike the lower decks, are the decks that house the main offices used by the thirty or so researchers combined with the sleeping quarters allowing up to around ten people to sleep simultaneously. With the extra damage done to the upper shield generator's support, the upper decks have it really bad. Not only is the air immensely, almost suffocatingly hot, but there is a fair bit of smoke adding a haze to it all as the air scrubbing systems are unable to cope with all of the filtering needed at once.

     This is also where most of the scientists are located, over the span of about three floors, and only a couple out of all of them seem to be conscious. Others are alive, but just barely. But then you have one of the sleeping quarters being approached by the Cornerian units in doin a sweep: one young fellow reaches out to open up the door, but his wrist is caught and held still by an older lady wearing Cornerian colors. She simply shakes her head and the young guy's hand releases. Through the viewport into the room is a grisly scene: a culmination of failed shields, solar radiation, fires and smoke have created a picture of true tragedy. There's not a single person alive in there. 

     Panther also seems to be working on The Black Rose, his Wolfen, and has enough knowledge about it to handle some basic care and maintenance. A system restart is as basic as it gets. Gettings comms up is clearly a priority. However, Panther doesn't notice the indication of approaching ships just yet, even though the bay they are in will likely see some enter. "Ugh, the heat," comes a complaint through the interpersonal communications, voiced by Wolf, as things come into a bit more focus due to the efforts on Fionn's behalf. But it's at least clue enough that things seem to be getting there. Krystal's communications may be attuned enough, thanks to the decoder given to her, that she may be able to pick up on these transmissions.

The lift creaked and groaned, what with any lubrication having boiled away as this station did a slow-motion rendition of Icarus's attempt to touch the sky. However it held well enough for him to progreess. He even rode it back for good measure. "Whoever built these things had incredible foresight." Ash was genuinely impressed, it almost came close to Grineer engineering. Sure they were brutish thuggish and generally stupid, but the Grineer built things to take all manner of abuse both from the enviroments and the operators of sad equipment. He looked over at the mantinance shafts ad shuddered. 

Ash was sweating within his transferrence pod in spite of the fact it wasa sealed air conditioned enviroment. 

"Also it looks like literal hell up there. So pick one. Slow roast in the oven, or grill over an open flame." Ash's body language suggested he hated either, but he showed wolf a datapad. "Normally I'd say splitting up is a horrible idea, but we're literally on the face of a sun. horrible is all we've got."

With that he boarded the lift, which was stupid for all manner of reasons, but if his sword can cut grineer armor, it can ct and hac through debris. Right? 

In his transferrence pod Ash continued sweating, "Ordis, hail those other ships, try giving them a bead on where the survivors are. ALso can you get some fresh air in here?"

"Operator... it's already fifteen degrees. What you're experiancing is sympathetic feedback. You need to get otu of there before your warframe cooks."

"I know..." Ash huffed before refocusing his attention on the twisted hellscape in front of him. "Hate to say it though but it's the most expendable person out there. I need to keep pushing."

Upon entering the station, the heat hits Krystal and the rest of the Cornerian rescue party that came with her as if they had just stepped into an oven. Krystal grits her teeth a bit, knowing this is not going to be an easy mission by any stretch, but tries not to think about the heat as she presses on. She picks up on both Wolf's and Ash's transmissions through her personal comms, and responds as she continues to move toward, letting her telepathic senses be her guide through the station. "Wolf, Ash, I'm here to help however I can, and I brought a rescue party along with me. Right now we have an engineer trying to stabilize the shield generator, while the rest of the group is trying to locate any survivors and evacuate them off the station. Is there anything you need me to do specifically?" At the same time, as Krystal had stated, the rescue party are beginning to comb through the upper decks, trying to work quickly due to the heat, but they search for any survivors that can be evacuated back to the ship they came here on.

     "I could pipe on the AC if you're hot under the collar. 'course, that'd chew us out of at least 20 hours of shielding. Minimum." Fionn's voice over the comm system is strangely pleasant, more matter-of-fact than condescending. "Hate to be a pragmatist, but..." These are his people. May as well throw them a bone and think about their priorities. "Anyone conscious enough to tell you what's worth keeping? 'specially if they get that generator back up... we might want to grab their black box at least." 

     Three ships to bring online. Panther's got the Rose, but it's probably best he deals with the Khamsin. He makes sure the Wolfen's power is getting up to snuff before moving on. A hand to his ear as he paces. "Once I'm sure we got a way out of here, I'll head back into control and see what else I can do to make your lives easier. Meanwhile, stay cool. And ah..." Well, there are a few more friendly faces on the line now, aren't there? "Welcome to the party, ladies and gentlemen."

     "Fionn," calls out Panther in test over his ship comms rather than calling out across the bay from one ship to another. "Things are mostly green across the board here, but I'm seeing some misalignment between the port and starboard G-Diffusers. I don't think it'll be a problem, though. Oh, hello... Who invited the Cornerian Alliance?" The dark-furred cat sits up before stepping out onto the wing of his ship and draws his pistol. Just in case. A few Cornerian ships dock in the same bay and the pilots exit. One is a troop deployment carrier. 

     "What?" comes the voice of Wolf as he rides in a lift as far as the thing will take them up. The one-eyed merc looks over at Ash. The last thing this place needs now is a firefight in order for them to escape, with rescued personnel or not. This station is barely holding together as it is! 

     However, Wolf has bigger problems to worry over as the lift comes to a stuttered stop. It really is a literal Hellscape. Krystal's response over the communicator comes as the fiery inferno is revealed on the deck. Ash may fare a bit better, but the heat from the revelation washes over Wolf in a way that forces him to bare his teeth and slow his breathing. Almost immediately, a cry for help can be heard from a room not too far away, but the deck is beginning to fall in upon itself in some areas. Twisted metal and raging unchecked flames form a deadly maze just to navigate a number of feet. The sounds Wolf makes over the communicator are pained and the roar of the fire is easy to make out. Still, he points toward the direction of the sound in gesture to Ash and leaves the lift first. His personal shield is sturdy and can protect from bare flame contact, but it doesn't protect him from the sheer unforgiving unrelenting mercilessness of the heat and thick air. He grabs a fallen strut and strains to push it aside despite the pain of fresh burns. His gloves only protect his hands so much. "Gotta...get to that woman..!" 

     The mechanic sent to help stabilize the main shield generator does what he can, but the main damaged support structure that threatens to fail is unshielded and exposed to the plasma atmosphere of the star. He's going to get some containment shielding around what he can, to buy as much time as possible, but it's a temporary solution. Still, it's something.

     There's a low groan, like a person in severe pain, that can be heard. Not just by one person, though. By everybody. It's a terrible horrendous groaning shudder that starts on one side of the station and seems to reverberate to the other. It's low, guttural, and sickening and causes a number of people to pause in their actions to listen to the metallic vocalization. And then the resonant sound fades...and thankfully doesn't repeat. Yet. It's going to be enough to spur people into a much more focused, yet hurried, state of action. 

     Having extra boots to the ground on the lower deck at least guarantees that the dog that fell into Wolf and Ash's arms will receive care, and it also means the lower decks can be swept by another group while Wolf and Ash press on. Panther puts away his pistol and speaks to Krystal, "Fionn's in the right of it, my dear. You're better suited to help located survivors, but getting any logs as to how this happened would help prevent it from happening again." It's a broad generalization. In actually, reality is far stranger than that and way out of control. "The Rose looks good. I'm going to join the search party for survivors on the lower decks." That's Panther's way of keeping an eye on what the military does, whether they like it or not. "The damage we noted shows that the upper decks are going to be flooded with plasma and fried the moment that shielding is lost. Do try to hurry, mm? I suppose this means I'll owe you dinner for the help."

The air is acrid and still. The shielding had been sabotaged. The lifesigns of those that remained dwindling. Fear gripping everyon'es minds...

"Someone's out there kiddo." It wasn't Wolf's voice, as Wolf had only gestured to the sound fo survivors.

Inside his transferrnece pod Ash stared wide eyed, his pupils unfocusing asthe edges of a half-forgotten memory turned nightmare cracked through his mind. "...mama?" His voice was small, the words likely not translating across the somatic link to the warframe as it baked in the hellish heat. 

"Don't worry angel." Ash looked to the sound to the voice and saw a blistered and burnt woman, flames thankfully obscuring the true extent of her ravaged body, "You're safe with me." Hollow eyes looked back at him as the apperition extended a withered skeletal hand.

*BWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

"Ordis what the hell?!" Ash's body shook at the noise, eardrums almost rupturing as Ash's body clenched.

"Your delta waves were spiking Operator," Ordis informed, "You need to remain focused, It is likely O'Donald was indicating to where survivors were."

Ash took a deep shuttering breath as he settled back i nthe link, drawing his blade and using his warframe's mobility to take routes Wolf along with most sane people would fear to attempt. Where his passage was blocked his sword cleaved through wire and heat weakened debris/

Ordis, in an attempt to keep Ash's mind focused, cued up a drum track, something subtle, but aggressive that would be strikingly familiar to taiko drums on most earths. 

Even with the distraction of the hallucination, Ash managed to fid a way to the trapped woman and snarled at the uncooperative door. "Ordis!"

"On it." The Cephelon used Ash to bridge a connection between itself and the door. It was unfamiliar with the protocols of this world, but the beautiful thing about math is it proved a universal constant, which leat the ship's cephelon brute force the door to force it to think it was supposed to open.

And so ash hadto deal with a scared, exhausted, and likely injured woman shouting something at him as he carried her to the lift.

Krystal nods to Panther, agreeing with his assessment of where her talents would be most useful. She watches as their various forces split off in different directions, mostly in search of survivors and records of how this whole mess happened. As for Krystal herself, she begins heading back up the decks, calling back to the others as she goes. "I'll try to telepathically search for any survivors up there that may have been missed, while not becoming a crispy critter in the process... Be careful everyone!" And with that she's off, heading out with a few men of the team she came with, bearing the heat as best she can and trying to remain focused so that distractions don't impair her telepathy. She senses faint mental activity and follows it down a smoke filled hallway. Fortunately she came with a respirator, but still she tries to stay low so she can see better. Eventually, she turns into a small lab room and finds a couple of unconscious scientists slowly dying of smoke inhalation. The medics with her put a oxygen respirator on both of the scientists, and together they drag the unconscious pair back to the lower decks.

>> GAME >> Ash spends an Edge for: Ordis forced a door to unlock.

     "It won't be a problem, because I'm going to take care of it. Why don't you go entertain our guests for a while? I'm afraid I'm not much of a people person. They say I'm somewhat lacking in the grace department." The Fennec crawls over the ship to get at the aforementioned problem-part and get a little microwelding in. Given how bad their approach was, he's not going to be leaving anything to chance on their exit. In the meantime... 
     "How many more do think we got in here? They might appreciate it if we pick up their research, too. Provided their data banks aren't smoking right now." Yeah, it's a life or death situation, but... scientists.

     "Help me or find something else to do!" It's a rather curt statement over open comms voiced by Wolf regarding Ash. In fact, Wolf presses on with or without assistance at first despite the clear mortal danger involved. Managing to push that metal strut from the ceiling out of the way, there's just enough room to squeeze through. Further obstacles are trivialized by Ash's eventual approach. Within the room, there are two people, both women, and one of them is trapped underneath some debris that has fallen from the upper deck and she's barely able to move. Wolf has the leverage to move the plating off of her legs, but she's unable to stand. Her legs may be broken. The grizzled form of the space pirate moves in over her to scoop her up with one arm underneath her legs and another underneath her upper back, trailing behind Ash in the time it takes to move the junk. He then begins the arduous process of heading back to the lift through the inferno. His shield is able to protect her from the flames, being nestled in so close, but what was a tight squeeze for one person looks to be a challenge for two. "This is going to hurt," he warns, shifting her in position to no longer support her injured legs resulting in a clear cry of pain heard over Wolf's transmitter. It's a very tight squeeze and the hot metal digs in and scrapes against the two in the process. 

     However, Wolf and scientist manage to make it, and the lupine starts toward the lift. Then, the ceiling above gives way. The movement of that fallen support strut that was helping to hold things in place combined with Ash's ability to cleave a path through some of it all has weakened it enough for it to finally give in. A load of construction material crashes down against Wolf's upper back. He cannot help but drop the second woman to the ground from the blow and his hands reflexively lift to press against the debris. He's strong enough to keep it from crushing himself, but his arms and legs quiver from the strain. The woman is unable to move without assistance to save herself. "Get- GET HER INTO THE LIFT, DAMMIT!" The strain is equally notable in his voice to any that listen in. 

     Wolf's eye squints in the effort and the flames from debris pressed against his form bypass his shield and begin to cause some of the fur on his head to smoke and smolder. His muzzle opens and the sheer heat is nearly overpowering. There's simply no time to have Ash assist holding the wreckage up. And if he steps out from under, the collapse could cause even more to fall in. Just pulling the woman a distance away isn't safe enough. "I can't-" He can't hold it much longer. His voice grows quieter as he just doesn't have the air to speak up. "I'm not-" The compression against his back with the heat and flames and smoke makes it impossible to yell anymore. "Kiddo, you've got to get them in the lift and take them back down to safety," breathes he over comms. All he can do is stare down at the woman as she peers back up at him in abject horror. He's telling Ash to leave him behind. 

     Panther's efforts to help sweep for survivors isn't just for that, however. He's also tagging along to gather up whatever information can be from the research labs as he follows up behind the search party. Somebody had better find out what happened or this is going to remain a permanently unsolved mystery.

Ash at first hadn't bothered keeping track of Wolf. He had focused on gettign the woman in his arms to the lift before even thinking to check on the old merc only to find Wolf trying to keep effectivly a mountain of material from crashing on their heads.

'Run Kiddo! Run!' His father's voice as madness cripped him again. Fires raged as the makeshift prison they had built for the few adults they could capture instead of kill had broken apart, the wreckage of their barriers turned into makeshift weapons.

He heard the drums, their beat teathering him to the hear and now. "Ordis. Can my archwing get here?" The archwing's sword could cleave the debris pile, or at least act as shield to bare the weight of the pile so O'Donald coudl get free.

"Negative Operator." Ordis's voice flat.

"Understood," Ash's voice grew hard as he realized he'd have to make a choice here. Wolf didn't get to be as old as he was by being reckless or stupid. He was screaming at Ash to prioritize the girl. His own instincts were demanding he find a third option that just plain didn't look possible.

So he sprinted forward, surging through the wreckage and rolling so his back shielded the woan from something that fell from the debris. that moment hung there for a subjective eternity. as Ash's arms wrapped around the injured scientist before he surged away, carrying the woman to the lift.

     Standard ship maintenance, done in a hurry but to the ends of a double and triple check. Fionn'd kick on the diagnostics if it wouldn't present a possible hitch on getting out of there in a necessary hurry. He'll just have to trust his abilities. And, damp and just slightly less miserable than everyone else, he skulks his way back to the control room to see what feeds he can't get up. If visuals don't work, he's going to have to rely entirely on reading reports and making a few key guesses. 
     "Boss. Stop showing off and get clear of that area. Your options are getting pretty thin... do us a favor and don't miss that lift, okay?" Maybe he could benefit from a hand, but Fionn knows there's no way he'll make it up on time.

Between Krystal and the medics she joined in the search for survivors, the last few survivors in the upper decks are found and lead to the safety of the ship that docked at the third docking station. The ship then takes off before the upper decks go to hell, while Krystal quickly makes her way down to the lower decks to make sure Ash, Wolf, Fionn, and the rest of the assorted crew here were faring alright down there. 

 Hearing a crash as she descends through the maintenance hatch, Krystal emerges to see a ton of debris atop Wolf, threatening to crush him, and Ash sprinting through to the lift. She also spots the crippled woman and quickly grabs her, heading for the lift. It would seem it was time to get the hell out of here or stick around to meet your maker

     "I'm not-" 

     Wolf breathes with great labor, having to force each breathe despite the burn, despite the sting, and can only grunt to Ash as he spirits the researcher away with another. His good eye has watered up, so his vision is blurring, and the intense heat from the air and fire makes his other means of seeing less reliable. Just before Wolf makes the move to push out from underneath the oppressive weight, however, something clearly shifts above him and the center of mass changes and a heck of a lot more comes falling down from above across the deck...including directly in front of the lift. Inside the lift, stuff seems to be falling into the shaft itself which no doubt forces the occupants to descend or risk having stuff jam the elevator. Or worse. 

     "I'm not going to die like this." 

     Looking over the stuff available, flipping through some database cylinders, data pads, and even swiping an ID card in case it's needed for any sort of access, Panther pauses at hearing the voice being spoken by his boss. "Wolf? What's going on? Who has eyes on Wolf?" The Cornerian search party is too busy looking for people to really pay attention to the urgency in Caluroso's voice. "Ash? Krystal?" The mercenary feline drops the datapad in hand and hurries over to the main lift and presses the call button. And presses it again. And then once more. It seems that the lift is already heading down his way. Imagine his surprise at seeing it open to reveal Ash and Krystal and two female scientists, but no Wolf. Then again, the questioning look on his face says it all. He doesn't have to ask the question, but he does anyway. "Where's Wolf?" 

     Many decks above, amidst the parts of the station falling apart, stands a middle-aged fellow whom has made many questionable choices in his life. Many were thrust upon him by circumstance. At times, he had to do the unthinkable simply to survive. Do it often enough and the unthinkable becomes a way of life. So, if that's his way of life, then why is he standing alone on a deck on a space station that is four days out from being torn apart by gravity and magnetism but will likely incinerate the moment shielding starts to fail and parts of the station burn off in a brilliant glow?

>> GAME >> Wolf O'Donnell spends an Edge for: Through a matter of desperation and adrenaline, Wolf forces his body to his limit and beyond in order to keep from being crushed by tons of metal and debris.

     It takes nearly all he has to give. His body aches, but he tenses up and uses his sheer determination to defy such a fate. His transmitter is still active, but all that can be heard is the crash of debris. He pushes away and, in this desperation, uses his surge of strength to push through. Bits of torn cloth and fur are left behind as the sharp metal claws at him, doing its best to keep him from escaping the intensifying collapse. Barely -- and only JUST barely -- Wolf makes it to the same maintenance hatch left open by Krystal, but not before some falling crap manages to snag the HMD from his head. His comms line goes dead. Without time to wipe the soot from his eyes or put out the small fires curling the ends of his fur, he uses the ladder to head to the nearest possible exit: Up. To the Tertiary Docking Bay. That is already undergoing evacuation. 

     His emerging form stumbles into the smaller docking bay as the last ship is being filled. Weak and unable to do much besides call out, a few soldiers rush over to help Wolf board the ship. They also handcuff him. If Krystal is able to hear Cornerian chatter, as well, there will be reports of securing O'Donnell. And also the danger of plasma sheering causing the top shield generator to buckle. It's only a matter of time before half of the station is lost.

Ash sees Wolf do what he thought was genuinely impossible for unaugmented beings and make the mountai nmove. His moment of hope was shatered when that titanic shift caused everything to come crashing down, and he had to make a call. Leave and maybe get two wounded to relative saftey, or stay and die.

He made the call and the lift decended. Imemdiately that incident was shelved as he had wounded to get to saftey, which took his priority. So at first he didn't hear radio chatter of O'Donald being slapped into custody. Eventually he will, and in the process task Ordis with finding anything he can n where Wolf was taken.

that would have to wait though. "I've got wounded here!" Ash would call out as the lift doors opened, causing him to hurry both women out. Injuries or no he needed to get them out of the death box before-

CRASH!

Debris pancaked the lift and, in a moment that would have been comical on any other occasion, the station's automated systems helpfully informed him of whatever the lift's designation was being out of service and to please contact mantinance at his earliest convenience.

     Caluroso is uncharacteristically pissed off at this development. The panther snarls and stalks off, kicking a desk over in the process. "Fionn," he says over comms. "We've played nice for long enough." With Wolf arrested, that puts him in charge. "You!" he targets of a young soldier nearby that isn't currently helping to evacuate anybody. "Is there anybody left that needs saving?" His voice is cold. It's the sound of a killer. 

     "Not that it matters to somebody like you-" 

     Panther is far too quick to snag the dog's arm and twist it around behind his back with one hand while he draws his pistol and places it to the guy's head with the other. He yelps and a few other soldiers notice and draw arms, too. 

     "Don't make me ask you again." 

     "N- No, nobody else that we can find," the soldier squeaks with his expression completely blank with fear. He's not just being held at gunpoint by any simple outlaw. Panther is one of the, if not The, most notorious hitmen in the system. 

     "Good," says Caluroso with a silky-smooth purr. "Then your friends can get off of this station and take these survivors with them. This station is now, for however long it holds together, property of Star Wolf. You will exit the station immediately and take the wounded to be cared for or you will join them. Or else you will join the ones being left behind." The feline Scarface addresses Ash, "Leave them to do their jobs. We need information on what happened to this station. Help me search the labs around here for something. Information is leverage." He tightens the twist on the soldier's wrist. "And so are hostages." 

     You can't really put the Cornerian Alliance together with Star Wolf and expect it to go completely without incident. Besides, it's not unprovoked. "This is not up for debate. Leave now while you still can. Else we can stand here, guns drawn, waiting until we crash into the sun." It's a very real possibility. Grudgingly, the soldiers prioritize removing the innocents. "Somebody is riding in the cargo hold."

All this happened as Ash made sure the wounded he carried got to a doctor. He still wasn't aware Wolf was in custody, so seeing Panther become proactive was a bit of surprise. He merely shrugged to one of the soldiers before turning to Panther. "So what, just clone the drives out of anything i can get my hands on?" He was actually perhaps the best option for getting to most of the stuff here. "I don't want to hit power and terminal melts."

He shrugged and headed for the dock as his landing craft slid out of the docking bay. "Ordis, try lighting up a few entry points for me. I'm going to do another fly around with archwing." He quite literally jumped into empty space only to be caught by his suit's archwing and start flying. THere was that supposedly unsafe docking bay. Maybe he was small and light enough to get through.

     As much as the Cornerian Alliance hates it, they are mostly powerless in the situation. Caluroso not only has a hostage, he also has a reputation and record of criminal activity a mile long. Disarmed and hands tied behind the back, the soldier has no choice but the obey his captors. 

     And then the station makes a noise like before, only louder, and it lasts longer. So sickening... Ash gets the best view from outside. The top shield generator gives way, going lopsided, spinning, and twists out of control. There are a shower of sparks and a massive crackle as the last bit of shielding is sloughed off. The unprotected top half of the station is immediately exposed to the ionizing radiation and fields of plasma circulating through the magnetic fields twisting about in the Red Giant's atmosphere. Everything from that point up begins to glow as the sheer volume of UV radiation and heat pushes the matter up into a red glow, and then further still until it glows purple, and then...the unprotected parts of the station simply start burning away. It's not instant, but it is a quick process. 

     The lower shield still provides a safe bubble which encompasses the middle of some of the higher decks while the outer edges are incinerated. Anything that was able to be gained from the main offices is lost. But there is still the main laboratories and the non-functioning docking bay. 

     Much like the lower bay was to begin with, this one is mostly without power and is a vacuum. No ships seem to be inside it; furthermore, the door to the rest of the deck is open. This enitre deck seems to have completely lost artificial gravity and has been completely locked off by the station's automated processes from other parts of the ship, but it -does- have power. Somewhat. Everything is free-floating. Even the blockage hindering entry into the bay itself. There is no atmosphere, but the lab corridors are wider than normal to allow for the movement of equipment. Thankfully, the lab computers seem to be functional. 

     In the main docking bay, Panther loads up his hostage and secures him inside his cargo hold -- it's fully protected, has life support, and offers plenty for securing such goods to make sure they can't move. Fionn helps prepare Wolf's Wolfen for automated launch and remote auto-piloting. Krystal, it seems, is going to get to ride inside Wolf's ship! She won't be able to do much of anything, completely locked out of the ship's controls and systems, but...there's always digging through his selection of music! Once this is done, Panther hustles off to see if he can find anything himself in the secondary labs.

"Wow... lookitthat." Ash was pretty sure any survivors had already been evacced. As he drifted along he essentially used every erg of energy to reenforce hsi archwing's shields since, to be perfectly blunt, he was terrifyingly close to a star and 'cold' in terms of stars was in general something disagreeable to technology and living.

"Alright i'm gonna try buzzing through to get dumps from anything that hasn't already blown up. Worst comes to worse I'll do a persoanl evac and meet up later. Probably would be a good idea for you guys to back off in case this thing belches out something else nasty." Ash didn't bother mentioning that in an absolute worst case his warframe was completely disposable since he neither wanted that factoid to become particularly known, it hurt like... well... in this instance being burned alive by a giant angry star, and getting a replacement built would take close to a week give or take a few days. A week without his frame was something he disliked on sheer principle.

"Also try figuring out where they're taking bossman or at least what ship he's on. I'll get him back."

What followed was Ash not just cloning drives and streaming data to Ordis for safe keeping, but also literally shoving cabinets of notepads into space for his orbiter to tractor out away from the giant angry star. He was not a specialist in data extraction. The Lotus, put bluntly, did most of the heavy lifting. However here he had no real need to bother decrypting or anything delicate. A safe isn't safe if you can carry it out of the house it was in after all, and while Ash's orbiter wasn't really a tugboat or a shipping barge, it had to have enough space to cart around a lot of useful materials, weapons, gear, and other sundries. This is something Ash was abusing the everloving daylights out of in the hours after everyone else left to salvage what he could.

Plus he saw a chair he liked and wanted for his orbiter. It looked comfortable.

     Even with the lower part of the station intact and shielded, missing half of it puts great structural strain on what remains. That is compounded by the additional stellar strains. In other words, had that shield generator not broken apart it would have been four or five days before break up. But now? It's probably a matter of an hour, tops. 

     "Oh, don't you worry. We already know the ship and where he's going," remarks Panther as he takes the time to grab the small stuff: database cylinders, data modules, dongles, datapads. It's a rather crude job of grabbing anything that might be of worth, but anything not taken is going to be destroyed. And soon. "My starship passenger values his life, and because of that, he talks." He reaches over and snags one last thing: a portable computing platform. Panther turns and hauls butt back to his ship and stores the goods in the cargo bay along with his new 'best friend'. 

     Climbing up into The Black Rose's cockpit and securing the canopy, Panther and Fionn set about prepping the ships for takeoff. This also includes The Wolfen, of which Krystal rides. "Internal power enabled. Primary weapons, enabled. Secondary weapons enabled and primed. Astrogation system enabled." The checklist is important, but the pilots are very efficient and quick at going over it. "Life support, enabled. Deflection shielding enabled and primed. Targeting systems enabled. Alpha interface enabled." This brings up the internal HUD that overlays against the inside of the canopy. 

     "Beta interface primed. G-Diffusers enabled...but mine seem to be misaligned. Plasma engines enabled and primed." This marks the hum of engines starting up and that means that the fighters are fully ready to launch. "All systems are go. Mostly green across the board. Ash, can you get a reading on Solar's output? I don't want us flying out straight into a flare or prominence. Once we get clear, we're gunning it out of the corona ASAP."

Ordis's voice chimes in as Ash does another lap, trying to do a last minute check for anything he can carry. "Stellar output is rising, but predictive models put your position as stable for the next half standard day. Suggest departing immediately. Also here are the next seven closest places to dump your- MEAT SHIELD, informat." Ordis then started rattling off abou the data he was recieving, mostly to the effect that while he was not going to risk slicing its encryption it appears to be uncorrupted. Given encrypted data can look like complete jibberish Ordis might or might not be fudging a bit.

Ash gave a small chuckle as he picked up a bobblehead and tossed it in a cabinet drawer. "Shame we couldn't tow this place into a stable orbit. Eh well. that's what insurance is for right?" He would make his way from the station via archwing as his lander towed more equipment to his orbiter. "I don't know how much you really care but I'd imagine that poor shmuck you've got being returned alive would win points at some point. Not like these people come out of tubes or indoctronation temples after all."

     That's all Star Wolf needs to hear. The members already have their ships aligned and ready for departure. One. Two. Three. One after another the ships jet out of the docking bay. The moment they clear the containment shield of the bay entrance their shields immediately crackle. The engines from each ship leave a trail visually from their immediate speed. The visual trail arcs as their paths and acceleration allow for a quick escape from the damaging Corona. The three ships simply aren't sticking around. Besides they have a ship to track down that needs to be intercepted before it reaches a more fortified position. 

     "We're going to see how much the Alliance thinks my passenger's life is worth. One way or another. After we get Wolf back we'll be able to pore over the details pulled from that station," states Panther. "First thing is first." 

     Meanwhile, aboard a Cornerian Infantry Deployment Ship... 

     The bay for securing infantry has been turned into a makeshift medical evacuation vehicle. Scientists of varying shapes and size, both conscious and unconscious, are being care for by a number of medics. Some that are awake are in tears, through pain and emotional trauma and loss. Out of the thirty-two researchers present on the station, less than half were able to make it. Even more depressing, at least one of the rescued survivors, despite triage and treatment, didn't make it. However, none of them would be alive if it weren't for at least one person. That person sits in the craft with a guard sitting across from him pointing his rifle in threat. 

     Wolf O'Donnell looks beyond roughed up. His clothes are torn, he's banged and scratched up pretty badly, he has burns on his hands, on his back, and on his ears. The fur on his head, including his mohawk of a mane, has been more than singed. His HMD is missing...and so is his eye patch. He stares daggers at the guard across from him, but it's not a one-eyed gaze; indeed, he stares both with the purple of his good eye and the mechanical duality of red and green from his cybernetic eye. 

     Wolf stares and stares, piercing gaze unrelenting and expression cold and unfeeling, as he waits for a moment -- any moment -- of the guard's attention to be diverted or become otherwise distracted. Even a sneeze would do. The guard knows this. It's truly an 'Oh My God' moment: it's really him. Even with cuffs securing his hands and feet, Wolf is a tremendous danger. The guard knows this. Others will be coming for Wolf, too. The guard knows this, also. 

     Does he dare to even blink? Can you truly afford to miss a single moment when you stare such a monster in the face? It is a sobering experience to know that any mistake could spell disaster for you and your fellow soldiers. So, they stare on...both fully aware of the true gravity of the situation.