Still laughing, Winter ran towards the Puma, since Thanfield had been nice enough to remind him that they needed to get there. The thought of him laughing after having just survived a fight with members of an alien race was funny enough that he laughed harder. When they jogged up to the vehicle, he leaned against it for a moment, trying to stop laughing--his sides were starting to hurt.

Of course, given the fact that he was trying to not smile, and yet was still laughing, the end result was a decidedly evil sounding cackle.

"Let--let's get the supplies and hurry back," he wheezed, his chest heaving as he struggled half-heartedly to stop laughing. It was funny, after all. Very funny, in fact. And he wasn't smiling, so what harm could come from it? He opened the crate with the plasma grenades and filled his pockets, still laughing.

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They're laughing by the Puma.

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Thanfield remained tuned out the first few minutes, busy as he was stuffing his pack with plasma grenades. Scanning the interior of the overturned Puma, he spotted a heavy flashlight that'd work well against the insectoid aliens' bulbous eyes. He also snatched a few innovated Kevlar vests. He pulled one over his gray combat fatigues and turned to toss another to Winter.

What the bloody was wrong with that guy?

"Corporal," he said solemnly, letting his hands drop to his sides. "Look at me. I want to tell you something."

Winter looked just in time to see a balled up fist headed straight for his face.

"We're ready," Thanfield said, slinging his pack over his shoulder and resuming his jog back to the station as though nothing had happened. He came away wringing his bruised knuckles - he'd never known a guy's face could be quite so hard.

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Michele looked up at the cieling through blurry-eyes, water rushing all around her. She sat there for a moment, following a stream of water, until she felt a strange, tickling feeling rising up her neck and ecasing her lips and nose. She couldn't breath. Grabbing the edge of a table she pulled herself up, and found that she could barely wrap her fingers around the thick table top. Now in a panic, she desperately tried to lift herself up. Then, she noticed that there was something wrapped around her ankle. Reaching down, she toched a thick wire. She stiffened when she felt a shock run through her. Feeling a burning ich in the back of her throat, she brought up all her courage and yanked the wire off her ankle and brought herself above water, half screaming, half gasping for air. As the shock subsided, she realized that she was still very weak, and couldn't see straight. Then she heard a low growl.

This was so not good.

Holding on to the table silently, she hoped that possibly someone would find her.

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

Carson ran into the mess hall, quickly scanning the area. He didn't see Michele. "Where's Deriecho?" he asked a man standing nearby.
"She went that way, towards the power grid."
Carson turned and headed in the direction, shouting his thanks to the man. As he neared the grid, he saw Michele gripping a table. His lab coat tangled around his feet as he waded through the water, and he impatiently took it off. "Michele!" He reached the table and grabbed her arm. "You ok? We need to get out of here."

(errmmm... SG? water is highly conductive. If Michele had a live wire wrapped around her ankle and submerged in water, she's dead/fried. And so is anything else touching that water.)

A sharp sprint took Alanna and the techie to the armory locker. Punching in her code, she waited for it to pop open. It didn't. "C'mon, c'mon," the engineer muttered, entering her code again. The right one, this time.

The heavy door opened a crack and she pulled it open. A fair amount of handguns, a few autorifles, and adequate ammo clips were mounted on a removable racks, along with some old surplus army knives. Tucking a knife into her boot, Alanna signaled to Daniel, and they lifted the rack onto their shoulders and hustled back down the hall. So far so good. The invaders hadn't penetrated into the heart of the station yet.

Alanna's mind was already spinning with possibilities. From the looks of things, it was only a matter of time before the - whatever they were - would find a way of getting in. If the humans were lucky, they would be able to overwhelm the aliens. Otherwise, they would either end up dead or captured.

Alanna had no intention of dying - and she could probably avoid it by mentioning that she was one of the select few humans and Greys who could actually maintain and operate the Portal. Theoretical knowledge was one thing, but she had both that and experience. Not that she planned to sell out, but every system had its weakness, and she would like to remain alive long enough to find the aliens' and exploit it.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

((Yesyesyesyesyes I know.......... GAH! You wouldn't know how tired I was at the time I typed that/those... *facedesk* I really need to learn how to keep common sense when I get tired. I guess you want me to do something completely different?))

_________________
You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

Winter shook his head, blinking several times to clear his thoughts. Had Thanfield just punched him? All he'd been doing was laughing. Still, the man probably had a reason for it. Winter didn't even have to think about not smiling--his expression was now decidedly confused as he jogged after the Private.

The alien pod was still hovering over the crater when they approached, but it seemed empty--there was no movement, at least. To be sure, Winter lobbed a grenade into it and watched in satifsaction as it vanished in a fireball. Maybe there had been someone inside of it who was smiling--it would make sense, since he had just had success while not glaring.

"Thanfield, step up the pace," he said, speeding up a little himself. In the bulky environmental suits, they couldn't run nearly as fast as they normally could, but they made good time.

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They burst into the station simultaneously, guns leveled. Thanfield rapidly assessed the situation. Sergeant Cortez was scrambling about the crates in mortal fear of his life. Oh yeah, there was a hulking alien stalking after him, pounding at him with its remaining arm.

He aimed and fired off a round just as the Bhorki came shuffling around the corner. The shot sizzled clean through the creature's chest, leaving a dainty little hole that oozed blue. The alien stared at its by all appearances mortal wound as if puzzled.

And it kept coming.

In utmost surprise Thanfield backpedaled, knocking over a crate in his haste.

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Holly ducked round a corner and slipped into the room enclosing the Portal, intending to do her utmost to get rid of those files. After a spilt second of hesitation she closed and locked the door behind her - a dead end if the aliens were to discover the room, but it should buy her time. Her wristwatch computer beeped insistantly.

After a few moments of tapping at the miniature holographic keyboard in silence Holly smiled grimly. There were half of the Portal files gone. Now for the other half.

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((SG, maybe it could be an un-live wire that wraps around you. Then it wouldn't change too much. lol))

((Ah, righty-o, then. We'll just pretent that... she uh... bonked her head or something. ))

Michele looked over to where Carson stood.

"We don't need to get out of here, we need to get off this blasted station!" She said, marching through the water to the door, ignoring the blood that the fine cut around her ankle was leaving behind.

_________________
You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

The blinking red emergency lights flashed eerily against the titanium walls of the corridor they now sprinted through. The corridor curved around the interior perimeter of the station, and was lined with doors that allowed access to various labs and the huge central port used for the launching of spacecraft. As he ran, Thanfield whipped out his PDA and linked to database. Nothing. The database had been completely wiped out.

Instead he extracted his radio and opened communications. "Any civilian scientists in there, this is TG41B marine detachment. We are on the eastern side of the spaceport, outside corridor, nearing the ramp in Division D. What are your positions?"

A moment later, upon arriving at Division D, they reached a steep decline in the floor. Five steps down, he skidded to a halt, looking towards the bottom of the ramp. Was that water? He shot a quizzical glance at Cortez and Winter.

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Holly's radio, having been reduced to so many wires and crushed plastic, did not pick up the signal. But her computer registered an unknown radio signature, beeping insistantly in the midst of her bout of attempting to hack into the Portal files.

The reception of her computer was very poor, not having been made strictly to be used as a radio, but in a moment her voice crackled over Thanfield's. "Biologist Holly Taelor - Portal room, central spaceport, bottom level." At least that was what it sounded like. What with the intereference and a large helping of static, it was hard to tell.

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Carson, feeling for his radio out of habit, found that he had left it in his lab coat. He hurried back to where his coat floated in the water, and grabbed his radio out of the pocket. He shook his head at his own carelessnessere the , stuck the radio in his pocket, and caught back up with Michele.
"We can't just march out the doors." he said. "We'd have to get out past the lockdown, and besides, we don't know what's going on out there. There could be more aliens."

Michele, who had no idea there had been a lockdown, snapped her head around to look at Carson as if he had just grown another head.

"Lockdown?! Since when?" Then she shook her head. "Nevermind." She went over to a small comparment in the wall, which was not flooded yet, and knocked out the back wall, revealing a stash of pistols and amo belts.

"It pays to study the blueprints of this place." She said, tossing a pistol and a belt to the man besider her.

"So, does anyone aboard this drowning hunk of metal know what those aliens are?"

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen