"Entrée vers l'inconnu" (An Enclave Story)

[Cat]

Lower Deck Armory
Battlecruiser Alsace

Quartermaster Dubois took a deep breath, his eyes closed, and a forced smile of serenity on his face. The troublesome guest with the commandeered state-of-the-art Manticore suit had buggered off to talk to someone over comms. No more running, jumping, and combat rolls in his armory. Only the all-encompassing and constant low hum of various systems that powered and propelled the huge vessel. A negligible factor, the quartermaster thought. Left to himself, he returned to what he had been doing before the noisy officer arrived.

The quartermaster walked slowly towards his target. His hand reached for it with itching anticipation. After a moment of hesitation that felt like eternity, Dubois finally seized it. He then picked up the elecric kettle and poured some hot water into his metallic cup. As the smell of coffee spread across the room, the smile of serenity on the quartermaster's face became wider and far more genuine. He carefully picked up the cup and moved it to his face, waving the smell towards his nose: nutty, fruity, almost spicy. A true bliss. For rank-and-file Enclave personnel, coffee has become as rare as a fruit of heaven. However, serving as a quartermaster aboard the personal vessel of the Enclave's Director of Research had its perks.

Dubois was about to take a sip, when the rustle of a space suit nearby had him jumped. He opened his eyes, to suddenly find the annoying woman standing by the counter yet again. The sudden re-appearance of Leila made him jolt, and he barely held his prized cup of coffee in his hand. However, the guest appeared to have little interest in his own persona, or the abuse of his position. All-business, she picked up the Manticore helmet and secured it on her head with a loud hiss. The helmet's visor was almost opaque, to the point of seeming like another armor plate. As the Manticore switched to close-cycle, Leila's voice became distorted: "Brace for a brief emergency venting in 2 minutes."

Caught completely off-guard, Dubois didn't know what to think about this. This was against any playbook he had gotten used to during his long years of service. That's why he said the first thing he thought, as he put the hot cup on the counter: "But if you vent the comparment... whatever or whoever isn't secured will just fly out, into space, at high speed." "Correct, that is what emergency venting is," Leila replied; despite the distortion, the quartermaster caught a slight undertone of sarcasm.

The loudspeaker came to life again, and the voice of Emeline Coste from the bridge reached the entirety of the room: "Secure all movable things in lower deck armory and the hangar. Brief emergency venting in 1 minute." "You'd better brace yourself," Leila added, before turning on her heels and heading through the hangar towards the large blast doors that separated the interior of the ship from open space. She walked slowly, almost casually, amidst the stirred-up hive of the hangar crew who were frantically running around to carry out their orders.

Still confused, the quartermaster was an experienced officer nonetheless. As he saw his guest in a Manticore suit casually walking past the shuttle she was meant to take, Dubois finally realized what the plan was. The Alsace was nigh-undetectable while cloaked. A shuttle's heat signature appearning out of nowhere would alert the approaching vessel. However, a single human in a spacesuit was too small a target to be detected like that. Especially while they were still at long range. The new-found knowledge didn't make the quartermaster feel any better, but he did hurry to close the weapon lockers and secure what little wasn't secured in his domain.

Meanwhile, Leila approached the middle of the blast door and turned her back to it. Her arms crossed, she was observing the stirred-up hangar. Emeline Coste continued commanding through the loudspeaker: "Emergency venting in ten, nine, eight..." Quartermaster Dubois grabbed onto his counter. "Seven, six, five, four..." The crewmen in the hangar grabbed to the bulkheads. "Three... Two... One..." The quartermaster could barely see Leila from this distance, and he wouldn't have seen her face through the visor. But it appeared as if she was staring directly at him, and Dubois could've sworn that she was smiling under the helmet.

"Vent it!" The blast doors opened for a few moments, wide enough for three people to walk through them side by side. For a moment, everyone in the hangar could see the station they were orbiting. But none would bother looking, as the strong currents of air made them cling desperately to whatever thing they could reach, and hold their breath. Leila disabled the Manticore's gravity boots and let the current carry her into space, towards her destination.

---

The storm in the hangar was over just as soon as it started: in an instant. Still clinging to the counter and gasping for air, Dubois finally lifted himself up to assess the damage. Although most of the cargo had been secured, the armory and the hangar were now a mess of crates, tools and cargo. A fine outcome, considering that the crew had been given one minute instead of ten. Commending himself for such outstanding performance, the quartermaster looked around his own domain. Something was off; he noticed his kettle on the floor and caught a faint scent of coffee. Alarmed, Dubois darted towards its direction... It didn't take him too long to find the precious hot liquid spilled on the hangar floor, an empty metallic cup lying next to it.