FIC: Rolling In the Deep (15/?) Chronicles of Riddick/Pacific Rim
Title: Rolling In the Deep
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Chronicles of Riddick/Pacific Rim
Character: Riddick, Vaako
Other Places: AO3.
Summary: The Basilica crashes on a primitive world. The Necros and Riddick have to deal with the natives. And giant monsters.
A/N: Sometimes I have a hard time finding the right word. So if anyone is actually reading this and would like to help me out ... I don't think the word I want to use is "reinforcements." I mean the people that come and relieve the previous shift. Plus, is "lexicon" the correct term I want to use?
Hermann was worried, though he refused to show it. He'd grown even snappier than usual over the last half hour, but that was the only sign of his incipient panic.
If that buffoon is fooling around again, I will box his ears. He tried not to think of that moment two weeks previous when he'd come across Newton splayed on the floor, limbs twitching and seizing as spit bubbles frothed from between his lips.
Hermann had yelled himself hoarse over the idiocy of playing with untested alien technology in non-laboratory conditions. After he'd made sure Newton hadn't managed to completely fry his brain. His lab partner had looked at him like Hermann was the idiot before he'd smiled and said, "This is science Herm. Sometimes we gotta take the big risks."
It had taken two medtechs to keep Hermann from strangling Newton.
Hermann didn't want to think of a world where he didn't have his best friend and lab partner in it. They argued and got on each other's nerves, but until Newton, Hermann had never found anyone he was so comfortable working with. Not until he'd met Newton--who had missed his status check by twenty-five minutes.
Though Newton was accompanied by several scientists and the UN soldiers that had been foisted on them, Hermann couldn't help thinking that something was wrong.
Newton had promised to call in. He'd finally understood how serious Hermann was about hearing from him. And while the phrasing had involved his usual exuberant attitude, Hermann had looked into his eyes and known he was serious. Newton had even set the alarm on his watch.
"I'm telling you, Captain, something is wrong." He fought to keep his voice level. All yelling would get him was rolled eyes and the opinion that he was hysterical scientist.
Captain Lepwicki's mouth was pulled in a tight line. "I understand that you're concerned, Dr. Gottlieb. But as you know, the alien nature of the architecture makes finding and maintaining a radio signal hard. Dr. Geiszler and his assistants are in the Main Temple. The walls are very thick and are covered in alien metal. Until ----reinforcements---- arrive, I cannot leave my post to check. And most likely, by the time we begin heading to the Main Temple, they will already be on their way back. Do you understand where I'm coming from, doctor? I cannot leave my post."
Hermann clenched his hands on the head of his cane. "I understand that you are in a tight position, Captain, but they are overdue for their check in. Dr. Geiszler is a man that keeps his word and he promised me that he would radio at precisely 18:00 hours. I am very concerned."
"I understand," she said. "I have asked that ----reinforcements---- arrive early so that we can send someone to check on Dr. Geiszler and his assistants. But until Lieutenant Mathison and his men arrive, my hands are tied. I'm sorry, doctor, but you must be patient."
Yelling in her face would not get him very far. He forced himself to turn away and return to his collection of equipment.
Hermann would have happily turned the UNs offer down if he hadn't been pressured to fulfill the last of of his contracts. Marshall Pentecost had loaned them out on the promise that they would be returned in one month's time. They had one week left before they went back to what was left of the Jaeger Program.
The Genie's Lamp was a fascinating find and about the only thing that could have lured him and Newton out of their Shatterdome lab. Already they had learned much that would help in the battle against the kaiju, though he would have preferred that the Jaeger Program not be so ingloriously abandoned.
There were plenty of amazing discoveries to be found in the Genie's Lamb, things that could turn the tides of war. But no matter the breakthroughs they had made, the results from all their backwards engineering would be months if not years away. Abandoning methods that worked for the possibility of success was incredibly shortsighted. His explaining the UNs recklessness in less than diplomatic terms was mostly likely the reason why they had been so willing to let him go. There had been no push to renew his contract, not that he cared.
He and Newton were going to stop the kaiju and save the human race. He could almost see it in the shape of the math. The answer was right there.
Hermann glanced at his watch with a frown. Where was Newton?
"You better be all right, you idiot," he muttered. He focused on sorting tools back into their proper order. It was busywork as he pretended he wasn't worried.
He and Newton had worked together for a long time--eight and a half years--and had known each other through correspondence for even longer. Newton could be a reckless fool, letting his excitement get ahead of his common sense, but he knew proper lab protocols. Playing with alien technology was always risky, not least because the ----lexicon---- for the alien writing was rudimentary at best.
They'd all learned the signs for On, Off, and Danger. The linguists were still trying to figure out pronunciation of the 52-character alphabet the aliens used. the world's best encryption specialists had been given the task of decoding the programming for the alien computer systems. Until the computers could be accessed, the linguists had no spoken version of the alien language to reference, and the Holy Grail of advanced technology remained out of humanity's reach.
Hermann closed the last case and leaned his forehead against the plastic. His mind insisted on presenting the image of Newton ignoring a Danger label and frying his brain.
"Hey doc, you okay?"
Hermann lifted his head to see Corporal John Flanders standing close by, watching him. The corporal had followed them from the PPDC at the order of the Marshall along with Corporal Andrea Reinholdt, who had accompanied Newton.
"I'm concerned that Dr. Geiszler missed his check in. He's become quite good about calling when he's supposed to."
Flanders checked his watch. "You're right. His check in should have been forty minutes ago, and they were working for three hours before that. It's been nearly four hours since any contact with Dr. Geiszler's team. I don't like it."
That was why Hermann had a certain fondness for Flanders. They both had a healthy dose of worry for the trouble Newton could get himself into. Marshall Pentecost had put the fear in both corporals; he wanted his scientists back at the end of the month.
It was ridiculous that Hermann felt warmed by the Marshall's concern, as it was entirely self-serving, but he took it to mean that he and Newton were essential to the program. The rest of K-science division may be clearing out in two months, but he and Newton were patriots--not to particular countries, but to the human race. Never mind that the UN had taken to pandering to its biggest monetary contributors; everyone sticking it out with the Jaeger Program was in it to save lives, even if it meant giving up the idea of regular pay.
The Genie's Lamp was a fascinating find, but when it came down to it, Hermann knew the Jaeger Program would save the most lives. It made him angry that the UN had cut funding from a system that worked to chase after fairy tales and dreams. As though there was no room for two projects. There wasn't even a consideration of working together to find the answer--the UN simply abandoned sometimes proven to work and placed all their blind trust in an untested wall and the dream of some super weapon being found in the wreckage of an alien craft.
If the aliens were so brilliant, then where are they? Dead.
Hermann sat back on his heels. He had no more make work. All he could do now was worry about Newton. He hoped his friend was all right.
He was focused inward and missed the flicker of movement behind him. They'd grown careless and started taking the alien ship for granted. They'd claimed it in the name of humanity and no aliens had stepped forward to tell them they were wrong. Until now.
Events were a blur to Hermann's confused mind. He'd been in scrapes during his school years, but after the onset of his MS people had begun taking near ludicrous care around him. He had never been in a real life and death fight before. He wasn't proud to admit that he froze.
He was an observer to events as they unfolded around him. He watched as UN personnel and contract scientists were taken down by savage figures in gunmetal gray armor. The blows exchanged were brutal and the attackers didn't seem to know what pain was.
Then there was the chainsaw growl from close behind him and Hermann half-turned in time to catch a glimpse of a large slavering beast. It was like a cross between a hyena and a wolverine. At least, that was what his panicked brain thought before the animal slammed into his back, its snarl loud in his ears.
It was lucky that he hadn't been standing or he could have been seriously hurt. As it was he was knocked sprawling on the floor, hundreds of pounds holding him down, dangerous claws poking through his jacket to pierce his flesh.
There was the deep rumble of a voice speaking an incomprehensible language. Painfully, Hermann turned his head enough to see a muscular bald-headed man standing over him. The man wore black goggles that hid his eyes from view.
"What is ..." Hermann nearly swallowed his tongue when the man grinned at him, displaying white teeth and a surprisingly charming expression.
The man rumbled something else, sounding amused. Then he drew back his booted foot and kicked Hermann in the head.
Everything went black.
TBC...
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Chronicles of Riddick/Pacific Rim
Character: Riddick, Vaako
Other Places: AO3.
Summary: The Basilica crashes on a primitive world. The Necros and Riddick have to deal with the natives. And giant monsters.
A/N: Sometimes I have a hard time finding the right word. So if anyone is actually reading this and would like to help me out ... I don't think the word I want to use is "reinforcements." I mean the people that come and relieve the previous shift. Plus, is "lexicon" the correct term I want to use?
Hermann was worried, though he refused to show it. He'd grown even snappier than usual over the last half hour, but that was the only sign of his incipient panic.
If that buffoon is fooling around again, I will box his ears. He tried not to think of that moment two weeks previous when he'd come across Newton splayed on the floor, limbs twitching and seizing as spit bubbles frothed from between his lips.
Hermann had yelled himself hoarse over the idiocy of playing with untested alien technology in non-laboratory conditions. After he'd made sure Newton hadn't managed to completely fry his brain. His lab partner had looked at him like Hermann was the idiot before he'd smiled and said, "This is science Herm. Sometimes we gotta take the big risks."
It had taken two medtechs to keep Hermann from strangling Newton.
Hermann didn't want to think of a world where he didn't have his best friend and lab partner in it. They argued and got on each other's nerves, but until Newton, Hermann had never found anyone he was so comfortable working with. Not until he'd met Newton--who had missed his status check by twenty-five minutes.
Though Newton was accompanied by several scientists and the UN soldiers that had been foisted on them, Hermann couldn't help thinking that something was wrong.
Newton had promised to call in. He'd finally understood how serious Hermann was about hearing from him. And while the phrasing had involved his usual exuberant attitude, Hermann had looked into his eyes and known he was serious. Newton had even set the alarm on his watch.
"I'm telling you, Captain, something is wrong." He fought to keep his voice level. All yelling would get him was rolled eyes and the opinion that he was hysterical scientist.
Captain Lepwicki's mouth was pulled in a tight line. "I understand that you're concerned, Dr. Gottlieb. But as you know, the alien nature of the architecture makes finding and maintaining a radio signal hard. Dr. Geiszler and his assistants are in the Main Temple. The walls are very thick and are covered in alien metal. Until ----reinforcements---- arrive, I cannot leave my post to check. And most likely, by the time we begin heading to the Main Temple, they will already be on their way back. Do you understand where I'm coming from, doctor? I cannot leave my post."
Hermann clenched his hands on the head of his cane. "I understand that you are in a tight position, Captain, but they are overdue for their check in. Dr. Geiszler is a man that keeps his word and he promised me that he would radio at precisely 18:00 hours. I am very concerned."
"I understand," she said. "I have asked that ----reinforcements---- arrive early so that we can send someone to check on Dr. Geiszler and his assistants. But until Lieutenant Mathison and his men arrive, my hands are tied. I'm sorry, doctor, but you must be patient."
Yelling in her face would not get him very far. He forced himself to turn away and return to his collection of equipment.
Hermann would have happily turned the UNs offer down if he hadn't been pressured to fulfill the last of of his contracts. Marshall Pentecost had loaned them out on the promise that they would be returned in one month's time. They had one week left before they went back to what was left of the Jaeger Program.
The Genie's Lamp was a fascinating find and about the only thing that could have lured him and Newton out of their Shatterdome lab. Already they had learned much that would help in the battle against the kaiju, though he would have preferred that the Jaeger Program not be so ingloriously abandoned.
There were plenty of amazing discoveries to be found in the Genie's Lamb, things that could turn the tides of war. But no matter the breakthroughs they had made, the results from all their backwards engineering would be months if not years away. Abandoning methods that worked for the possibility of success was incredibly shortsighted. His explaining the UNs recklessness in less than diplomatic terms was mostly likely the reason why they had been so willing to let him go. There had been no push to renew his contract, not that he cared.
He and Newton were going to stop the kaiju and save the human race. He could almost see it in the shape of the math. The answer was right there.
Hermann glanced at his watch with a frown. Where was Newton?
"You better be all right, you idiot," he muttered. He focused on sorting tools back into their proper order. It was busywork as he pretended he wasn't worried.
He and Newton had worked together for a long time--eight and a half years--and had known each other through correspondence for even longer. Newton could be a reckless fool, letting his excitement get ahead of his common sense, but he knew proper lab protocols. Playing with alien technology was always risky, not least because the ----lexicon---- for the alien writing was rudimentary at best.
They'd all learned the signs for On, Off, and Danger. The linguists were still trying to figure out pronunciation of the 52-character alphabet the aliens used. the world's best encryption specialists had been given the task of decoding the programming for the alien computer systems. Until the computers could be accessed, the linguists had no spoken version of the alien language to reference, and the Holy Grail of advanced technology remained out of humanity's reach.
Hermann closed the last case and leaned his forehead against the plastic. His mind insisted on presenting the image of Newton ignoring a Danger label and frying his brain.
"Hey doc, you okay?"
Hermann lifted his head to see Corporal John Flanders standing close by, watching him. The corporal had followed them from the PPDC at the order of the Marshall along with Corporal Andrea Reinholdt, who had accompanied Newton.
"I'm concerned that Dr. Geiszler missed his check in. He's become quite good about calling when he's supposed to."
Flanders checked his watch. "You're right. His check in should have been forty minutes ago, and they were working for three hours before that. It's been nearly four hours since any contact with Dr. Geiszler's team. I don't like it."
That was why Hermann had a certain fondness for Flanders. They both had a healthy dose of worry for the trouble Newton could get himself into. Marshall Pentecost had put the fear in both corporals; he wanted his scientists back at the end of the month.
It was ridiculous that Hermann felt warmed by the Marshall's concern, as it was entirely self-serving, but he took it to mean that he and Newton were essential to the program. The rest of K-science division may be clearing out in two months, but he and Newton were patriots--not to particular countries, but to the human race. Never mind that the UN had taken to pandering to its biggest monetary contributors; everyone sticking it out with the Jaeger Program was in it to save lives, even if it meant giving up the idea of regular pay.
The Genie's Lamp was a fascinating find, but when it came down to it, Hermann knew the Jaeger Program would save the most lives. It made him angry that the UN had cut funding from a system that worked to chase after fairy tales and dreams. As though there was no room for two projects. There wasn't even a consideration of working together to find the answer--the UN simply abandoned sometimes proven to work and placed all their blind trust in an untested wall and the dream of some super weapon being found in the wreckage of an alien craft.
If the aliens were so brilliant, then where are they? Dead.
Hermann sat back on his heels. He had no more make work. All he could do now was worry about Newton. He hoped his friend was all right.
He was focused inward and missed the flicker of movement behind him. They'd grown careless and started taking the alien ship for granted. They'd claimed it in the name of humanity and no aliens had stepped forward to tell them they were wrong. Until now.
Events were a blur to Hermann's confused mind. He'd been in scrapes during his school years, but after the onset of his MS people had begun taking near ludicrous care around him. He had never been in a real life and death fight before. He wasn't proud to admit that he froze.
He was an observer to events as they unfolded around him. He watched as UN personnel and contract scientists were taken down by savage figures in gunmetal gray armor. The blows exchanged were brutal and the attackers didn't seem to know what pain was.
Then there was the chainsaw growl from close behind him and Hermann half-turned in time to catch a glimpse of a large slavering beast. It was like a cross between a hyena and a wolverine. At least, that was what his panicked brain thought before the animal slammed into his back, its snarl loud in his ears.
It was lucky that he hadn't been standing or he could have been seriously hurt. As it was he was knocked sprawling on the floor, hundreds of pounds holding him down, dangerous claws poking through his jacket to pierce his flesh.
There was the deep rumble of a voice speaking an incomprehensible language. Painfully, Hermann turned his head enough to see a muscular bald-headed man standing over him. The man wore black goggles that hid his eyes from view.
"What is ..." Hermann nearly swallowed his tongue when the man grinned at him, displaying white teeth and a surprisingly charming expression.
The man rumbled something else, sounding amused. Then he drew back his booted foot and kicked Hermann in the head.
Everything went black.
TBC...