Post by Warrender on Sept 7, 2015 12:30:28 GMT
Name: Yaraseff, Cortez
Location: Util System (aboard the Kebnezer)
Yaraseff awoke slowly, laying on his side between the destroyed remnants of the bridge. Pain wracked through his body forcing him to remain still, his eyes tightly shut as though it would somehow make the pain go away. He felt the sharp stings in his body from broken bones, torn muscle and impacts from everything that he had either flown into or had hit him upon impact. Then there was that damn whistling sound in his ear that was torturous, like wind blowing past quickly, or like air escaping quickly into ... ... Yaraseff forced his eyes open upon realisation of what the noise was as his mind came back into focus. The air supply was rapidly escaping through small splits in the freighters hull which meant that while he was lucky to be alive and not in a vacuum it wouldn't be long until he would suffocate. He rolled onto his side without the broken shoulder, eliciting a scream as his broken arm was forced to move along with him, when he looked he saw a copious amount of blood and he sure as hell hoped that wasn't a bone sticking out.
He looked around the bridge, or rather what remained of it. The bridge was almost pitch black, with only the emergency power providing light to the consoles that granted a small degree of light. He could just make out the features of Cortez lying against a console, debris surrounding her and pinning her chest down. It was then that it dawned on him that the artificial gravity was miraculously still working but he doubted it would for much longer. He saw the bodies of those that had escaped with him against the same wall as Cortez, though their fate was not so well as hers. A bulkhead had been ripped from the far wall upon impact, its speed enough to decapitate one of them and crush the others. He could see two of them still breathing under the large mass and knew there was no way he could help them even if wasn't so injured.
Forcing himself to his feet Yaraseff groaned and winced with each step to the locker now laying flat on its side on the ground. He used his good arm to open the one door and let the other fall against the floor with a thud. There were only two suits in the locker and as he pulled out the first he could already see the helmet was cracked from the fall. 'Cheap Gurojan rubbish' he muttered to himself as he reached for the other and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it appeared intact.
Time was getting short; soon the air would be gone. There was no help for the others and he saw as hell didn't want to help that woman after all she'd done. He forced himself into the suit, gritting his teeth as pain seared through him and he forced himself to preserver. With the suit fully on he checked its display to ensure it was pressurized and not damaged. Once content with the readouts he detached the air tank from the other suit and made his way towards the bridge door which was clear with the door presumably being somewhere in this mess.
As Yaraseff reached the door he forced himself to take a look back into the room. He knew there was nothing he could do for the others and as pain gripped his hearts he prayed they would remain unconscious up unto the end. As his eyes looked upon the woman who had caused this entire situation he could see movement, a hand trying to push against the debris against her, but with her body pinned she could barely move, no wonder he hadn't noticed before. He stared and watched her, he didn't want to help her, she had shot at him, beaten him and even murdered some of the survivors, and he also believed she must have been the one who killed everyone of the trade station. But as much as he wanted to just turn and leave her to her fate, something within him was telling him to be the better person, knowing full well how easily it would blow up in his face.
As he paced across the littered deck he grabbed a pipe on the ground, small components trundled along on the floor with the long pipe still attached by wiring. He slammed the pipe between some of the debris and started to heave, levering the mass aside and allowing him a better purchase on the one pinning Cortez to the wall. With another heave the long slab pinning her down fell to the side and with a helping hand he was able to pull her out. She didn't say anything as she stood in front of him and merely stared, her gaze unmoving as she reached into a pocket and pulled a small canister, spraying it over her helmets visor. Its purpose instantly became clear as the large crack that appeared almost seem to disappear under a layer of visor sealant. That was enough for Yaraseff, he had done what he needed to do to be at peace with himself should he not survive this but he saw as hell wasn't spending another minute in this woman's presence and turned, heading towards the bridge door and to an airlock.
Yaraseff pushed himself away from the ship as he exited through an airlock, he could still see the door spinning away into space after he had pulled the emergency release lever. A couple of short bursts from a thrusters pack allowed him to remain stationary and look down on his crashed vessel, it almost brought a tear to his eye as he looked down at the twisted wrangled wreckage of his vessel, twisted and buckled as it lay against the asteroid. Thick plumes of dust, rock and wreckage were drifting in all directions. He sensed a shadow appearing next to him and twisted to see Cortez next to him. He had assumed her suit was capable of working in a vacuum and this proved it.
"Are you happy now?" He said to her, the first words he'd spoken since they had crashed. She didn't answer. Either her comms unit was broken or she had nothing to say, either way he assumed that now the shoe was on the other foot, she no longer held all the cards and knew it. Yaraseff was a seasoned space mariner; although he expected them to die out here if there was a way to survive he would find it. He turned away and grabbed his wrist, pressing down on some buttons and wincing as he tried to ignore the pain in his arm. After a few presses the light on his wrist started flashing yellow, indicating a distress beacon had been activated. He knew that the one aboard his ship would have already activated by now if not destroyed, but he had no way of knowing. He also knew that no one was out here, so if anyone was going to save them it would be the Formian fighters that had shot them down. He looked back to Cortez, his mind already thinking 'two people, one spare air tank'
Location: Util System (aboard the Kebnezer)
Yaraseff awoke slowly, laying on his side between the destroyed remnants of the bridge. Pain wracked through his body forcing him to remain still, his eyes tightly shut as though it would somehow make the pain go away. He felt the sharp stings in his body from broken bones, torn muscle and impacts from everything that he had either flown into or had hit him upon impact. Then there was that damn whistling sound in his ear that was torturous, like wind blowing past quickly, or like air escaping quickly into ... ... Yaraseff forced his eyes open upon realisation of what the noise was as his mind came back into focus. The air supply was rapidly escaping through small splits in the freighters hull which meant that while he was lucky to be alive and not in a vacuum it wouldn't be long until he would suffocate. He rolled onto his side without the broken shoulder, eliciting a scream as his broken arm was forced to move along with him, when he looked he saw a copious amount of blood and he sure as hell hoped that wasn't a bone sticking out.
He looked around the bridge, or rather what remained of it. The bridge was almost pitch black, with only the emergency power providing light to the consoles that granted a small degree of light. He could just make out the features of Cortez lying against a console, debris surrounding her and pinning her chest down. It was then that it dawned on him that the artificial gravity was miraculously still working but he doubted it would for much longer. He saw the bodies of those that had escaped with him against the same wall as Cortez, though their fate was not so well as hers. A bulkhead had been ripped from the far wall upon impact, its speed enough to decapitate one of them and crush the others. He could see two of them still breathing under the large mass and knew there was no way he could help them even if wasn't so injured.
Forcing himself to his feet Yaraseff groaned and winced with each step to the locker now laying flat on its side on the ground. He used his good arm to open the one door and let the other fall against the floor with a thud. There were only two suits in the locker and as he pulled out the first he could already see the helmet was cracked from the fall. 'Cheap Gurojan rubbish' he muttered to himself as he reached for the other and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it appeared intact.
Time was getting short; soon the air would be gone. There was no help for the others and he saw as hell didn't want to help that woman after all she'd done. He forced himself into the suit, gritting his teeth as pain seared through him and he forced himself to preserver. With the suit fully on he checked its display to ensure it was pressurized and not damaged. Once content with the readouts he detached the air tank from the other suit and made his way towards the bridge door which was clear with the door presumably being somewhere in this mess.
As Yaraseff reached the door he forced himself to take a look back into the room. He knew there was nothing he could do for the others and as pain gripped his hearts he prayed they would remain unconscious up unto the end. As his eyes looked upon the woman who had caused this entire situation he could see movement, a hand trying to push against the debris against her, but with her body pinned she could barely move, no wonder he hadn't noticed before. He stared and watched her, he didn't want to help her, she had shot at him, beaten him and even murdered some of the survivors, and he also believed she must have been the one who killed everyone of the trade station. But as much as he wanted to just turn and leave her to her fate, something within him was telling him to be the better person, knowing full well how easily it would blow up in his face.
As he paced across the littered deck he grabbed a pipe on the ground, small components trundled along on the floor with the long pipe still attached by wiring. He slammed the pipe between some of the debris and started to heave, levering the mass aside and allowing him a better purchase on the one pinning Cortez to the wall. With another heave the long slab pinning her down fell to the side and with a helping hand he was able to pull her out. She didn't say anything as she stood in front of him and merely stared, her gaze unmoving as she reached into a pocket and pulled a small canister, spraying it over her helmets visor. Its purpose instantly became clear as the large crack that appeared almost seem to disappear under a layer of visor sealant. That was enough for Yaraseff, he had done what he needed to do to be at peace with himself should he not survive this but he saw as hell wasn't spending another minute in this woman's presence and turned, heading towards the bridge door and to an airlock.
Yaraseff pushed himself away from the ship as he exited through an airlock, he could still see the door spinning away into space after he had pulled the emergency release lever. A couple of short bursts from a thrusters pack allowed him to remain stationary and look down on his crashed vessel, it almost brought a tear to his eye as he looked down at the twisted wrangled wreckage of his vessel, twisted and buckled as it lay against the asteroid. Thick plumes of dust, rock and wreckage were drifting in all directions. He sensed a shadow appearing next to him and twisted to see Cortez next to him. He had assumed her suit was capable of working in a vacuum and this proved it.
"Are you happy now?" He said to her, the first words he'd spoken since they had crashed. She didn't answer. Either her comms unit was broken or she had nothing to say, either way he assumed that now the shoe was on the other foot, she no longer held all the cards and knew it. Yaraseff was a seasoned space mariner; although he expected them to die out here if there was a way to survive he would find it. He turned away and grabbed his wrist, pressing down on some buttons and wincing as he tried to ignore the pain in his arm. After a few presses the light on his wrist started flashing yellow, indicating a distress beacon had been activated. He knew that the one aboard his ship would have already activated by now if not destroyed, but he had no way of knowing. He also knew that no one was out here, so if anyone was going to save them it would be the Formian fighters that had shot them down. He looked back to Cortez, his mind already thinking 'two people, one spare air tank'