Traitor — Roleplayer Guild

Stun was not in the mood to enjoy idle time while a squad of the crew did its scouting trip on the planet surface. It had little interest in being part of the survey group, knowing well how bothersome wading through knee-deep snow for hours on end could be, but the hybrid was still restless. It had been pacing the corridors of the Monroe since the captain and his group left the ship, patrolling in order to escape the mind-numbing inertia of waiting for something to happen. It was tapped into the comm-traffic but remained a silent listener to the banter of this group it was supposed to be a part of, for now.

Stun hadn't seen a soul (and neither one of the two AIs) in about an hour, as everyone was either busy with their specialised job or slacking off in their respective quarters.  Besides the constant ambient humming and bleeping of the ships systems there was very little sound on the Monroe, as if the ship was breathing in, preparing to hold its breath in anticipation of an impeding storm. 

Then suddenly, sirens blared all over the ship while Tango announced a code 43. It took the Pho Arghos a mere second to stow the rifle it had been carrying on its back before bursting off to the weapons deck in full sprint. The 6.5 feet tall creature left minor scratches, dents and claw marks on the floor and walls of the Monroe as it propelled itself through corridors of the ship in wide leaps. It heard the characteristic noises of other crew members scuttling to their posts through the sound of the alert and the ships AI orchestrating crew movement. 

Stun arrived at the weapons deck seconds after the small creature it successfully identified as "Kaite" did, but didn't take the time for a comprehensive greeting. It jumped into one of the weapon stations and synchronised with its visual feed. Somehow it managed to make its anatomy work with the station designed for smaller, more humanoid life forms. "Stun standing by." it reported via comms in a dry voice that had a decidedly insectoid resemblance, but a distinctly mechanic reverb implied that its vocal chords were only partially organic. Analysing a visual feed of the "huge fucking ice bird" for the first time, something like a snarl escaped its throat. While cycling through the selection of ammunitions the ship had loaded, it addressed the Aylv indirectly without averting its gaze. "That layer of ice is a problem. It should be less massive at the joints, maybe we can break it off with concussive rounds here and here." The Pho Arghos visually marked the area where the wings connected to the birds shoulders on the feed and shared it on an open channel, so everyone at the weapons station and on the flight team could access it. Stun readied the weapon systems under its control, ready to spew volleys of explosive pain to cover the ground teams retreat, awaiting further commands.
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under cardiac arrest

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