Hundred hissed in her helmet. Impacts were occurring all around her. She felt a light patter on her back as her suit's armor layer absorbed impacts that would have punched through her naked torso. A small twinge in her head reminded her of the defensive protocols programmed into the Dust, screaming at her to let it enact protective construction. She shut down those commands hard. She needed the Dust where it was. More deformations appeared in the plating around her, tremors running through the outer hull as it wobbled and wavered to absorb the impact. A subtle shift occurred in the tremors running up her legs. It was done. The tremors dissipated as she detached herself from the hull, or rather, the plate she was magnetized too drifted free. The Dust shifted to cradle herself and the plate before the violent impacts around them could throw them wildly off course. Until the larger meteorites showed up, the Dust could maneuver them amidst the kinetic events occurring now. She carefully turned in space, positioning the plate above her, a personal shield for the storm. There was a flash. An explosion.
Hundred tumbled end over end, still attached to the plate as it spiraled through space. She was disoriented, she could not make a clear look at her surroundings, it was spinning by too fast. A nausea response was being suppressed. Baseline template Gygans would have passed out from the forces spinning her. The cosmos was a blur of light and shadow. The data from the Dust was inconclusive. She could not locate the Lone Star not a good sign. The Dust had a free floating range of 28 meters, she could be only hundred feet from the hull or 10 thousand. The Dust was already acting to compensate for the spin, but it was not designed for self-actuation. Inefficient. It needed her input. Changing it's orientation she phasically induced additional energy to the outer Dust Layer, reverse it's orientation. Slowly she arrested her centrifugal motion and slowed her acceleration. Time was crucial, she twisted on the plate, small tremors from micro meteor impacts still occurred. She could not see the Star. She slowly twisted herself around. There! Not too far...less than 600 meters. She could make that. The dust coalesced on the far side of the plating. It tightened into a tiny mass. It burst. Hurtling back towards the Star, Hundred aimed for the partially opened airlock, barely visible to her senses. She spared a glance around the rest of her surroundings. Space was growing thick with micrometeors and a few that were large enough to be visible to her assisted sight. Not good. She would reach to airlock before the second stage of the MAC, but she could not complete her work in time. No choice. The shuttle was nowhere to be seen. There was ambient radiation and cooling plasma moving counter to the meteoroids moving through her Dust, she knew the shuttle was gone. Her expression hardened further, she didn't know it could do that. Not for the dead pilot. His existence did not factor much for her. But the lose of the shuttle completely changed the parameters of this operation. It was now about survival, not success. Wait...something else. Her suit detected another object. Not a rebounding meteor or shuttle piece. Human shaped. Still radiating evidence of a working power cell. It was 371 meters starboard of her course...moving too fast for her to retrieve in time before the 2nd MAC phase began. She sighed. No choice. No time. She sped past the body of James Rourke. His imminent demise she did regret. If she had greater capacity of action she might have saved him. The universe was a messy place.
The Dust arrayed itself in front of her again to slow her acceleration towards the little 2 meter hole she aimed for. Not much of a target window. The Dust would not slow her or the plate completely in time anyway. That was ok, she had expected as much. The drag from the Dust did decelerate her somewhat, and helped to bank her trajectory. But she was still moving at just under 20 kilometers an hour when she cleared the airlock. In the eighth of a second she had to see the Visipian before slamming into him she had enough time to register two thoughts. The stupid bastard was trying to close the airlock manually and the universe was a messy place. The force of the impact ricocheted Hundred as her shoulder struck his left flank, spinning into the port wall she rebounded again, ready for it this time she worked with her inertia spinning her body around to hit the next surface feet first, contracting her thighs as she hit she magnetized herself to the hull. She hit hard, much harder than landing on the outer hull. She knew her legs came close to breaking. There would be bruising, swelling, perhaps some tearing of tissue. She balanced herself against the wall and slowly stood. But she could move, that mattered. She still needed to move, crawling along the wall she pushed off towards the airlock, ignoring the Visipian and whatever condition he was in. The plate she had rode was still in the Dust, safely cushioned above the door. There was no time. Thrusting out her arms she curled her fingers and drew her clawed hands to her hips. The Dust pulled the plate against the airlock, flush. She could feel it's contours. Not a perfect fit. It wouldn't be. She focused her attention on the Dust she had left in the still molten edges. The Dust agitated itself, the metal melted, molding, dripping it down between the section of plating, reorienting molecules into a lattice before phasically transferring energy away from the metals, fusing it to the airlock plating. There was no telltale signs of success. The room seem to be powered for repressurization and reconstitution of internal atmosphere, perhaps the mechanism was simply slow. Checking once more for any leaks with the Dust remaining outside, Hundred commanded the remaining material to form a secondary seal around her welding job. Satisfied, Hundred stopped glaring at the plating in front of her. Or, perhaps, is rather turned that glare to more deserving locals.
She turned her gaze around the airlock chamber. She looked at Mez for a moment, no words passing between them for a moment. Two predators just acknowledging each other's presence. If Mez gave Hundred any deference at all, it would not be a sign of submission. But perhaps he could recognize the look in her eye. Some predators hunted for blood out of necessity, some for pleasure, some for anger. Hundred seemed to exude all three. Gripping the airlock door she disengaged the magnetism of her feet, shifting to reclamp onto the 'floor' of the ship. Stalking out of the room she looked at the melted door console, the blast damage from the explosion, and scattered motley of her teammates. She spotted the Syndari. With a purpose Hundred marched over to the slight creature. A heavy glove fell upon the pilots shoulder. Hundred stared down into Sevyn's faceplate. Something only slightly less than murder shown from her eyes.
"You left me outside of the ship. Alone." She spoke simply. Low. She almost sounded hurt. Or maybe just livid. "You left me outside of the ship...so that you could slip inside before the umbilical connected." She turned her gaze around the ruins of the two rooms they had torn their way into. "I do not know what you hoped to accomplish by doing so. But I do know that you owe me for your fecklessness. I will have that debt paid." There was a small golden shimmer in the air as the Dust oriented itself around them. "I will have my...satisfaction." There was a small silent pall. Perhaps an understanding.
Hundred stopped looming. She crouched next to Sevyn and the console. "So, tell me what you've found about this ship's systems." Her tone had not softened, but it was no longer bladed.
