[Away Mission:] Day 3, Alemar III (Final battle)

[ten_fwd_npcs]

Something strange begins to happen underground. Those pretty, glistering crystals that twinkle from the walls and ceilings start to move, sinking down into the rock, and disappearing from all sight. In each cave and cavern, every arching ceiling and cramped tunnel, they all vanish.

The main cave where the visitors were brought during the tour feels darker now. It has weathered the trauma of the last three days better than some places, but that's all about to change.


[ooc: And welcome to the kickoff of our final leg of the Alemar III plot! Day 3 has officially begun, which means all team posts moving forward should reflect that. Below, this post is split into two sections: the first is for any teams or individuals who want to establish themselves as being in the main cave for the final action of the plot; the second is for our teams of fighters and all who wish to assist them. Bear in mind that the historians and empaths won't step in to reveal what's going on until the next group post; this is primarily for the last battle and gathering all the fractured teams back together. If you're not sure where your group is, check in with your plotting e-mails or the plotting post; if you don't want to join the main group until the fighting stops, the next post will also have a place for your characters to enter and reconnect with friends. If there are any questions, leave them in the plotting post and a mod will get back to you asap!]

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Rejoining the Main Cave

[ten_fwd_npcs]

After many long hours of tireless effort, the damage is just beginning to be undone. Rocks are being cleared from caved-in passages, relief has been sent from the Enterprise, tunnels that lead out and rejoin the main passages or crawl to the surface of the planet have been found. Ordinary travelers are proving themselves heroic.

Aboveground, systems are being repaired. The elevators took a hard hit, and some won't be back on-line at all, but the doors are pried open and the repair work continues. A brave soul can climb down the open shaft to get to the main cave below, if a lift can't be accessed.

Steve Rogers | OTA

[stark_spangled]

Heading down an elevator shaft without any equipment and nothing to break your fall could be considered reckless self-endangerment. Nobody gave Steve that memo.

He's been working with a team of exceptional people getting the systems back on-line, but there was a lot of debris that had to be cleared manually, and that meant climbing down there to clear the way so the actual elevator car could move again.

"I've reached the floor!" he calls up. "I'm going to get these doors open and see what the damage is like down here!"

He swings his shield at the crease in the elevator doors, wedging them open just enough for him to slip his fingers inside and pry them the rest of the way open. Nobody really knows how many people are alive or dead down here, and Steve means to help where he can. He steps into the cave without hesitation.

[dreams_dont_die]

Dylan's still edgy.

He's got good instincts, and his instincts are telling him they haven't seen the last of their friend from the day before. They'd had warning, then, as the cave shook and the crystals coalesced to form the creature, but none of them had been expecting it, and he's not about to be taken unawares again.

When the sound of clanking and creaking comes from the side, where the elevator shaft is, Dylan takes a few steps towards it, putting himself between it and the group.

He draws his force lance; a flick of his wrist and it extends. He waits, taking a defensive stance, watching the doors as they creak, as they're levered wide enough for someone to get hands through the crack and start to push them open.

When he recognizes who it is, Dylan steps forward to help, hauling on the door one-handed with the other still holding the lance.

"Steve."

[stark_spangled]

"Captain," Steve huffs, once he's out of the shaft. He gives a small nod, both in thanks and in greeting, and claps Dylan on the shoulder. "Good to see you."

He hasn't missed the lance in Dylan's hand, but once it isn't pointing at him it just becomes an interesting side note. Steve's got to wonder if lances are the weapon of choice in space, for how often he's seen things like this.

"What's the situation down here?" he asks, taking a look around.

[just_be_quiet]

"Someone's here," Andrew calls out. He had been trying to nap when he felt something besides the Crystaloids. Steve is like a beacon of determination and hope.

It is almost like getting a sip of coffee. Even if Andrew can detect how tired their would be rescuer really is.

Andrew is about to say hello to Steve when the dust and dirt gets to him again. He starts to cough loudly and uses the barely clean part of his sleeve to try and shield his mouth from the air. His chest burns as the coughing fit tears through him. He needs water and medication as soon as he can manage it.

After a long moment he drops his sleeve away from his mouth. "Hi. I guess you came to rescue us."

[stark_spangled]

Steve can hear a voice crying out from one corner of the cave, near some fallen rocks. His gut twists. It's a kid's voice.

"I hear you!" he calls, striding up to the debris. It looks like part of the cave collapsed, and the way the rocks are spilled tells Steve that someone has already tried to dig out (or in) at least once before now. The coughing sends a spark of fear through his blood. "I'm coming to get you! Just hang on!"

He takes a few steps back and sweeps a good look over the rocks. He knows if he digs in without prejudice he could just make the cave-in worse, so he has to find the right point to start digging. It isn't exactly like moving pieces across a chessboard, but he's got it. He practically throws himself at the first boulder, working with both his bare hands and his shield to dig the rocks away until there's a small opening. Just enough for him to peer in and catch Andrew's eyes.

"Hey," he breathes, smiling lopsidedly. "I guess I did. Hang tight. Are you hurt?"

Lady Marian | OTA

[queenofmay]

Marian is dirt smudged, her hair is knotted up tight behind her head with a scrap of clothe surrounded by a fray of loose strands, and her skirts are quite a bit torn up. But weariness and uncomfortably never has damped her spirit for long. Only her appreciation for skirts, a lack of food and proper facilities, and the inability to know how her friends are faring.

"I think I can hear someone," Marian said as the rocks blocking passages ways were pull back and their ragtag band made it into even clearer, larger areas. "Hello? Is someone there? Are you alright?"

Re: Lady Marian | OTA

[the_seafarer]

It's been slow going, in the dark.

Even with Sinthia's...abilities, the tunnels are treacherous. Lacking any way to tell up from down, north from south, they risked simply wandering further into the belly of the planet, unknowingly moving away from help, but in the end, it hardly mattered: they were trapped, able to make only slight headway.

And then the walls shook. And the ground rumbled. Again.

But this time -- the doors opened.

He has little idea of how long they've been underground, only knows that Sinthia is pale and tired and they're all moving sluggishly from a lack of food and water; his feet hardly feel they're touching the ground, though he sees, hears tiny pebbles dislodged against and under his boots. "Nearly there," he tells the others, though he's said the words so many times they seem to have lost their meaning, grown dreamlike and stale. They've all imagined hearing sounds and voices echoing in the tunnels, and he's hearing them again now: the scrape of rock against rock, the shuffle of steps, the voices --

No. This voice must, truly, be imagined, a cruel trick of the shadows and dehydration and exhaustion. He knows it too well, has dreamed of hearing it too long, and it's been Marian's voice that has filled his thoughts, her advice and scolding, her kinder words pausing his impatient tongue.

But it doesn't stop. He pauses to listen, ear flat against rock, then pushes back only to push fingertips into the crack between one boulder and another, pulling with all his might to dislodge it. For a second, nothing happens, but then it shifts, someone on the other side working with him. "Aye, we're here! We're here!"

His voice is cracked from days without water and a throat thick with dust, but loud enough, he prays, to be heard.

Re: Lady Marian | OTA

[queenofmay]

That voice is sweeter than the water she's been wishing for off and on for a day.

It's the one she's worried over only in the back of her mind. The one that promised to always come back, be there when she did, and would, in the darkest of times, when it was most unknown, and then, again and again, in the times when it seemed the darkness might never pale. A promised that sticks, even when they both know no life can be lived in such absolutes. But her heart and the rush of relief in her doesn't care.

Marian's prying sore and cut fingers into rocks, and pulling with all her might, before she's even regained a breath.

"There're more people over here!" Marian called back to her group, to get more hands on the next massive pile of stones. More people laboring to lift the bigger parts, and dislodging the small ones creating the block between them. When her heart is pounding in her ears, as she toss one off and calls through the blockade. "Careful over there. We'll try to get you free as soon as we can."

Deanna Troi | OTA -- To The Groups/People With Her At Least

[ships_counselor]

That creeping buzz of a sensation hummed through her, again, making her shift her shoulders and look all around her. Before making her clench her eyes and raise a hand to her head, as a whisper swelled to a scream quickly again. Anger, and frustration. Pain, and betrayal. Thousands of voices. Strong, and only getting stronger each time, like they were all raised in one frantic cry.

Like it was coming through the floor and the walls and the ceiling. Like it was everywhere.

Thrumming steady, only to spike stronger now and again, from the oddest directions.

Dylan Hunt | for Tyr (and OTA if you want to drop in later)

[dreams_dont_die]

By the time the third day -- or the second time they've drifted into sleep and woken again, it's hard to tell down here -- starts, Dylan is tired, more tired than he's been in a long time. He's barely slept, preferring instead to keep an uneasy watch for more visits from their crystalline friend of the day before. The itch of dust in his throat has long ago turned into a thirst that's pounding a headache, and the aching hunger's making it hard to move. That's on top of countless bruises and cuts and other small injuries from the earthquake and the fighting.

It's easier not to concentrate on it if he keeps busy, though, so once the group is back at it, they manage to move a few more rocks and this time, moving around gets them through to another part of the cave system.

Where they meet up with a very, very welcome sight in the form of another group from the Enterprise.

One that includes a face he's grown glad to see in a situation where fighting and thinking their way out of a situation is a likely outcome. He tries not to show too much relief (but the relief is there), but there's a little smile at one edge of his mouth.

"Tyr. Good to see those survival instincts are still working."

[kodiak]

It's possible Tyr hasn't slept. No doubt there's some lengthy amount of hours Nietzscheans can function without sleep, and no doubt Tyr's endurance fits the model of a Nietzschean at his prime. Whatever the case, he stay crouched comfortably with his gun at the ready in any moment of downtime.

By the time they've made any progress, Tyr's gained his fair share of cuts and bruises, including one requiring a makeshift bandage torn from his shirt -- though it seems no more serious than that. The unpleasant film of dust and sweat registers as just as much of an annoyance as his injuries, however.

He's not honestly surprised to find Dylan, given his ability to survive while painting a target on his back in a hostile universe. When Tyr sees him, he only arches an eyebrow, putting up his gun.

"A pity I didn't listen to them earlier, or I would have never set foot on this godforsaken rock in the first place."

Seamus Harper | for Dylan

[deus_ex_harper]

Harper was not going down there, he wasn't and he couldn't due to previous experiences. He was content in staying put at the top for any use that he could be up there. Every so often as more of the systems had come back online he tried the sub dermal comms. Harper wanted to know if Dylan was still down here.

"Boss?" He paused and thankful there wasn't such a bad squeal of static on the link. Maybe, just maybe this would work. "Hey, boss, can you hear me?" He waited. Hoping that there was going to be a reply.

Re: Seamus Harper | for Dylan

[dreams_dont_die]

He'd had the occasional squeal from the comms, but he hadn't been sure whether that was someone trying to contact him or just whatever was interfering with the signal in this place. He's been telling himself the slow return of systems to functionality meant Harper was out there somewhere, working on them, because he was not going to lose any of his crew here.

Not after everything he's pulled them thought already. Not after he'd lost his whole crew once before.

Eventually, though, early on the third day, the comms come to life with more than just a squeal. It's faint and it's full of crackling static, but the voice makes him start upright from where he's leaning against one of the walls for a moment's rest.

He presses his neck to activate his own implant.

"Harper!"

It's good to hear his engineer's voice again. Good to know he's alive and well enough to communicate.

"This is Dylan. I hear you. Where are you?"

Not very loud or clear, but after the resounding lack of communication with his crew over the last few days, he'll take the intermittent voice.

Re: Rejoining the Main Cave

[from_the_outside]

Sharon's no stranger to danger or cabin fever, or even both at once, but she'd have to admit, if asked, it's not her preferred way to spend three days.

Three.

Whole.

Days.

(After the first of which, she'd decided it wouldn't have mattered if Jack Harkness had been dead for a hot second there, because she's relatively sure he'd rally to hit on the first thing that moved near him, anyway.)

It's not a terrible group to be stuck with, as these things go -- Sheppard is a hothead and Harkness is the kind of reckless that only comes from a feeling of invincibility, but they're both grown, trained men, and she can rely on them to at least keep themselves mostly out of trouble and alive. It's the others she worries about, checking in on their wounds, and debating possible escape plans.

Plans she'd be a whole lot more use to if she didn't care about blowing her cover. You know. That minor detail.

As it is, she spends three days trying to keep wounds clean and trying to keep the others from disturbing the fallen rocks even more, as they start careful explorations in what's left of the tunnels around them. She even coaxes her way into getting to do some exploring of her own -- which is when she first hears the clank and clatter of movement.

It freezes her, for a second, as she peers into the dark, willing it to part so she can just see -- "Hello? Hey, is someone there?"

[stark_spangled]

Steve knows he's left a competent team of minds with getting the systems back on-line, which is the biggest reason he feels compelled to help down here. It's a battlefield, something he knows far more intimately than a panel of wires and blinking lights; people are scared and bloodied and tired, and though Steve is hungry he can push through that like it's nothing if it means offering relief.

His hands are dirty from pulling rocks away from one of the landslides, digging to find survivors. His shield serves as a shovel when he needs to work at a particularly tough area. With the clang of metal and the rumble of moving rocks, it's amazing he hears the voice at all.

He stills, listening hard for the sound again.

"Is someone trapped back there? Can you hear my voice?" he calls, trying to get an idea of where the voice was coming from.

Joining the Final Fight

[ten_fwd_npcs]

The main cave has weathered the last few days well, and the small group of Enterprise visitors have been safeguarded against attacks from the Crystaloids thanks to the two bands of fighters who've warded them off. Unfortunately, that's all about to change.

The ground begins to shake.

The walls rumble, pebbles and pottery and tools left from the archaeologists rattling as the shaking intensifies.

There is a horrible sound, and the ground opens up and splits, crystals pouring from the open wound. Just as the visitors have been learning about what the Crystaloids can do, the Crystaloids have been learning about the visitors. This time, they don't simply take on one shape, they take on three.

A terrible, nine-foot-tall quadruped clinks together on the right side of the room, its paws a nest of bitterly sharp claws. Its large head boasts a maw of equally deadly fangs. To the left side of the room, the Crystaloids join into a long centipede, but its legs are long and bowed like a spider's, and its tail arches over its back the way a scorpion's would. At its head is a pair of pincers, big enough to trap two full-grown men at once, and the high-pitched hum of the crystals sound like an awful hissing noise. By the time the crystals have stopped joining, it has to be twenty-feet long, and it moves quickly.

Finally, in the center of the room, out from the new hole in the ground climbs a shape much like the Almarians and humans and those of their ilk, so tall that its giant head nearly touches the ceiling. It's broad and strong, slower than the other two shapes but twice as powerful, crystals forming two mean fists. The Cyrstaloids have poured all their hatred into this shape, forming their impression of the cruelty of man.

Without prejudice, each terrible monster moves in to harm the unlucky people gathered around.

[morphitudinous]

A swipe from a horrifying leg decides his fate: the Blue Ranger is battling a centipede. And it's clearly a losing battle, no different than before: his weapons, good as they normally are, are useless. His only hope is to somehow use the crystaloids against themselves...and that's looking like an impossibility right now.

He's on the run, parrying with the two halves of his lance. Thankfully, they're holding up, but this is quickly turning into being cornered. Bad news, he thinks, bowing his head and gritting his teeth.

He desperately waves an arm toward anyone else---the problem with the secrecy oath is that he has to keep voice recognition to a minimum.

[do_your_duty]

Aeryn wouldn't say she's fond of any of the people she's been stuck in these tiny spaces with for whole solar days, but when she says she's going to help people get out. She'd going to help them get out, or she's going to go down swinging. Even strangely dressed mute people who show up in the odd costumes like this guy.

"Dodge!" She yells once, when it stops, starts shaking and suddenly attacks at the blue soldier with its sharp barbed tail. Trying to miss him even as she's taking shots at the tail itself.

Pick a card, any card! - OTA!

[ainori]

A - Henshin! - CycloneMetal
When the walls began to shake and shudder again, his stomach sank. Not again. He was already exhausted. He'd dealt with some marathon fights before, but this was a little absurd. Still, he smirked a little to himself. Things were looking up for the first time in days and all they had to do was hold out a little longer. Surely the Enterprise knew what was going on by now.

Without seeking cover, like the Rangers, he pulled his belt out again. "Round two, Philip," he told his partner. This time, he went straight for Metal, since that was the most effective. This was tedious and exhausting, since most Memory Breaks were just absorbed by the crystals. A creature that better withstood a finisher like that than normal attacks was unheard of for him. Well, there was a first time for everything.

The silver Memory joined the materializing green and in another swirl of dust and debris and crackle of green and silver energy, there stood Double in Shotaro's place. "Now, count up your sins," he said, pointing at the nearest of the creatures, the quadruped. He reached behind him for the staff off his back, and leapt in swinging.

B - Giving backup - LunaMetal

Not only was Shotaro busy knocking crystals off of the creatures, but he was also keeping an eye on his fellow fighters, such that he could. They were all in this together, and a part of getting everyone back to the ship meant no one should get overwhelmed. Luna and Metal gave enough flexibility to hit get out before reprisals came. For the most part, anyway.

Spotting someone in dire need of help against that scorpion's tail, he swung the staff in their direction. The yellow end of it extended like a whip and wrapped around the end of the crystals. He gave it a sturdy yank. Even if it was still too strong to stop the movement entirely, it was just enough. "You okay over there?" he called over.

C - In over his head - HeatJoker

It was time to take the fight to the giant in the middle. "It's your turn," Shotaro said, crouching briefly before he launched himself high in the air. He kicked up off the figure's shoulder as he switched Joker from the belt to the Maximum Drive slot on his side.

"Joker Grenade!" Shotaro and Philip called out together. Double split in half right down the middle, each half pummeling the chest and head of the giant with explosive kicks.

But they didn't get to finish. A massive hand swung up and swatted them out of the air. Double crashed against the wall of the cave. On impact the bright colors of Double faded to grey and dematerialized around Shotaro. Fortunately, the angle of the swat did not leave him tumbling too far. Even so, he tried to roll to keep from injuring himself on the stones too much.

Finally, he came to a stop at the bottom of the wall, panting and flinching. Okay, that hurt. That thing in the middle was not to be underestimated. He reached for his fallen hat before starting to get back on his feet again. "We're not finished yet..." he muttered, both to himself and to Philip. Try as someone else might to convince him to sit the rest of it out, he wasn't going to hear it.

C

[decideformyself]

Back upstairs, Philip pushed himself off the floor. "Don't be stupid, Shotaro," he said aloud for anyone around him to hear. "It's abundantly clear that you're in no shape to fight. Stay back for now."

C!

[stark_spangled]

As the crystal giant looms in, the hum of metal cutting through the air can be heard before Steve's shield pting!s off its head. The Crystaloids let off a high-pitched sound and recoil in time for him to catch the shield and throw it again mid-run, aiming it so that it bounces off the monster's neck, the nearest wall, and slams back into the creature's middle before returning to his waiting hand.

He stops in front of Shotaro and offers him his hand. "You OK?"

B!

[captgreatcoat]

One of the advantages of Jack's particular ability is that wounds heal quickly, far more quickly than they should for anyone who isn't a fixed point in time. He's feeling very few ill-effects from what felt like half a cave falling on him just two days ago, all his wounds now either healed or healing.

Yeah. The regenerative abilities are amazing.

When the creatures appeared, there seemed to be a few people around who were, if not expecting them, not as surprised as Jack is to see something he's never seen before, and that's saying something when you're as old and as well-traveled in time and space as he is.

Even if there's no sign of Rose or the Doctor here to protect, Jack's still ready to fight. He has his Webley drawn in an instant, aiming carefully at the giant scorpion.

Which decided to take it as a personal insult and lurched towards him, swinging its tail even as it takes the impact of the bullets.

Damn.

For a moment it looks like Jack's going to face another unpleasant death as the creature mimics his attempts to get away, but then somebody -- he has no idea who -- in some sort of weird armor leaps in and manages to grab the scorpion's tail with some sort of whip or something he's never seen before.

It gives Jack time to get away, to raise the Webley again and take a few more shots, though they don't seem to be doing much good.

And now he has to reload. This is not going to go well.

"Yeah. Thanks."

[dreams_dont_die]

He's been edgy since the attacks had stopped yesterday, as the creature faded away, because they'd had no way of knowing what that meant, if it was regrouping to come back, why it had attacked them, or even just what the hell it was. He'd never heard of the crystals from the walls of a cave coming alive, and he's seen a hell of a lot of weird stuff lately.

Still, with more people here, there's a sense they are finally on their way out of here. Especially since at least one of them has come down through the elevator shafts. There are a lot of survivors, far more then he and Irian had feared, and some of them are faces Dylan knows.

Because things are never as simple as they seem, though, the cave starts shaking again.

"You've got to be kidding me."

He takes a step back as the hole opens up in the ground, as crystals flow out of it and start drawing together, not just into one huge monster, but three.

For a moment, Dylan just stares; he's weak, he's tired, and this is going to test the limits of his endurance on his third day since he'd eaten or drunk anything. Still, he draws his force lance from under his coat again and, before anyone has a chance to dash forward to attack the creatures, fires off a few effectors, the little drones whizzing home to their targets.

"It's never easy."

[waco_jim]

Jim looks up from his now-empty quadruple-emergency backup hip flask and sighs.

"Oh, for the love of Batman."

His pistols are out and a hail of a dozen solid projectiles whistle toward their targets across the cavern.