Andy- 'Bang, bang'

Who: Andy, Skutters
Where: Engine room; ground zero
When: 1 hour after the crash
Andy walked briskly along the corridors to ground zero. Insectzoid
mask covering his face from the gas with skutters 080 to 120 in tow.
Ground zero was simply massive with it nearly covering over 80% of the
ship's hind quarters. Although he knew that skutters should be split
up for such an operation his maternal side ached at the idea of
putting them in such danger. He was going to try to seal off this
mutagen as quickly as possible. No time for a more lasting solution.
A standard bazookiod rested in his arms, a trail of smoke hissing
above it. He'd already been attacked by eight crawling phallic today
and he didn't want to join the causalities. Fortunately for the
victims- the willies didn't tend to let their host last for long.
The corridors were deserted for the most part, at least no one living
that is. So his work was relatively unobstructed. A massive junction
faded into view rather quickly. 'This is it Andy'. A sleepy voice
mumbled in his ear. 'A large percentage of the gas is coming down this
way.'
"Thanks Holly." Andy muttered in reply. "Alright, 110-120 you're on
the left, 100-110 you've got the right, I want you to remain here and
begin set up on the air tight sector. Remember those vents! That's how
it's getting through the fastest. Those left, follow me."
The whirring of motors went to work as the Skutters clambered off to
do their duties.
The Janitor leaned down to 099 as he led them away from the other and
into the hopefully the last junction. "Ninety-nine, have you heard
anything from the others? Have they finished their work?"
The baby-blue Skutter clicked out a response. "Complications? What
could they be having problems with? Bah… let's just keep going."
~~
Where: Deck of the Oath-keeper
The Space corps' frigate, the Oath-keeper, would never fly again.
Roughly resembling a crushed soft drink can, the drive room's size was
reduced by half and all the crew inside were dead…with the exception
of one.
Chapman crawled from the wreckage of his command chair. The old
officer's legs were crushed and blood lined down his face. Even still
as he crawled to the doors of the ship it wasn't the agony of his
injuries that made him wish he would die. No, it was the realisation
that in his act of over-zealousness he'd killed half crew that had
grown to trust him over his past 20 years of command.
Although he knew that after this he'd be honourably discharged. He
still had his duty to his crew. He'd do his darnest to save them, yes,
he'd do his-
The senior officer blinked blearily and stared at the apparition in
front of him. Staring straight back was a man wearing a smoking jacket
and a pair of boxers.
"Howdy." Potential stated with a smirk on his face. The
major-general's lips attempted to move but he felt no air go through
them. The man strolled over to him and placed a hand on his head.
Suddenly Chapman felt his pain disappear, he felt strength return to
his limp arms- in fact he felt 20 years younger!
"A little apology, for crashing you ship. Oh don't worry Graham… you
may be old but you aren't senile yet. Still the people in the brass
got their reason now...your life is going to be dramatically less
interesting from now on." Potential pulled back and moved over to the
one of the terminals. Chapman's addled mind suddenly remembered what
it was.
"N-no… that's-."
"Andy's on the other hand…" Potential said with a manic grin. The
agent's face grew in excited anticipation as his hand dipped down and
activated the forward plasma cannons.
<To be continued…>
OOC: Sorry about the shortness and the time it took to post this.