Any thoughts Connor had of knowing more about the skittish girl staying away from the rest disappeared when a sudden, violent lurch sent him flying into a tangle of cables which thankfully prevented him from slamming straight into the mess of pipes behind. As he slowly got to his feet and tried to steady himself, a cable which had managed to wrap itself around his right ankle brought him crashing to the ground the minute he tried to take a single step. This time, there was nothing to break his fall and he felt his whole body ache as he stood back up.

"Bloody feck," He muttered to himself as he straightened out his clothes. "Someone somewhere has a wicked sense of humour."

He was interrupted by a strange, hissing sound. Surrounded by so many pieces of machinery, most of them unknown to him, Connor initially wrote it off as just ambient noise. However, he briefly saw an oddly shaped creature darting up a wall. It moved faster than any man Connor knew, and he knew someone on the Shetlands who could outrun a horse for brief periods of time, so that was indeed saying something. The creature had disappeared from sight, but Connor kept his eyes on it's last known position, near the top of a ladder.

"Anyone else saw that?" He asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "There's something else here with us."

Gulping, he slowly backed away and drew his bayonet. Despite the tense situation, he noted that the blade of his weapon looked a little bit shinier than usual. Perhaps that sludge Corporal Brekker had convinced him to drown his bayonet in a week ago had actually done some work. "Whatever you're doing," He called out to the writer, who was trying to call for help via the horn. "I hope to God it actually works, otherwise I'm going to start cutting things and hoping for the best."