"Bingo."
The Super Robot drifted through the aether, drifting closer to the hulk. The sight of its massive, creaking frame, dwarfing the Getter in size even in death, made Seti realize she'd stopped breathing for a minute. She hurriedly scanned the surface of the carrier, its name barely legible from the scarred and pitted surface as the other two sat in awed silence.
"Got a name. It's the Passchendaele... Guantanamo-class, looks like."
A colossal hand reached out, grabbing the lip of the ship's surface as the red machine peered onto the deck. Seemingly finally thrilled to know something of note, Emma spoke up as the camera panned from left to right, taking in the sights.
"Look - TSFs... Mobile Suits..."
"ATs, too... that one, there. That's a Red Shoulder."
"I don't think so. It's on the wrong side, see? Maybe the pilot escaped?"
Vaulting over the surface as quietly, yet swiftly as a forty-five meter chunk of metal could, the Super Robot crouched among the metal graveyard, trying to look inconspicuous. There was a sharp bang, causing Seti to yelp in her seat, head snapping around almost 180 degrees - only to be met with the form of Emma, already in her spacesuit, who'd clambered down through the emergency hatch.
"We'll split up. Find intact computer cores, black boxes, food and water - whatever you can carry, and bring it back."
"A-Are you sure? That's how they usually get killed in horror movies."
"That's why you have this!"
Something metal was tossed through the air, and Seti fumbled as she caught it, feeling its weight in her hands. The pistol caught the cockpit light as she turned it over anxiously, feeling its worn grip, fingers moving uncertainly across its surface.
"You ever fired a gun before, egghead?"
"...In simulations..."
She looked up - only to see Solana had already disembarked, making her way towards the fake-Red Shoulder AT. The other two followed, Seti putting her helmet on as the cockpit depressurized, Emma waving to the retreating woman, trying to catch her attention.
"Hey, Solana! Take-"
"Don't worry. She can handle herself."
#55 gave Seti a curious look, but demanded no further explanation. Better to move as quickly and quietly as possible. She hefted her own weapon - a short-barreled survival shotgun, it seemed, and kicked off from the surface in the direction of the TSFs. At the very least, she thought, they'd have some rations worth salvaging... Hopefully.
Lastly, Seti, now alone, gave a sigh. She knew where to start, at least - and pushed herself off in the direction of the M1 Astray. The battery was likely long dead, she realized - but the external controls to remove the cockpit door were designed to work even in emergencies. Who would have known, she thought glumly, that her training at Omer would pay off like this?
The Super Robot drifted through the aether, drifting closer to the hulk. The sight of its massive, creaking frame, dwarfing the Getter in size even in death, made Seti realize she'd stopped breathing for a minute. She hurriedly scanned the surface of the carrier, its name barely legible from the scarred and pitted surface as the other two sat in awed silence.
"Got a name. It's the Passchendaele... Guantanamo-class, looks like."
A colossal hand reached out, grabbing the lip of the ship's surface as the red machine peered onto the deck. Seemingly finally thrilled to know something of note, Emma spoke up as the camera panned from left to right, taking in the sights.
"Look - TSFs... Mobile Suits..."
"ATs, too... that one, there. That's a Red Shoulder."
"I don't think so. It's on the wrong side, see? Maybe the pilot escaped?"
Vaulting over the surface as quietly, yet swiftly as a forty-five meter chunk of metal could, the Super Robot crouched among the metal graveyard, trying to look inconspicuous. There was a sharp bang, causing Seti to yelp in her seat, head snapping around almost 180 degrees - only to be met with the form of Emma, already in her spacesuit, who'd clambered down through the emergency hatch.
"We'll split up. Find intact computer cores, black boxes, food and water - whatever you can carry, and bring it back."
"A-Are you sure? That's how they usually get killed in horror movies."
"That's why you have this!"
Something metal was tossed through the air, and Seti fumbled as she caught it, feeling its weight in her hands. The pistol caught the cockpit light as she turned it over anxiously, feeling its worn grip, fingers moving uncertainly across its surface.
"You ever fired a gun before, egghead?"
"...In simulations..."
She looked up - only to see Solana had already disembarked, making her way towards the fake-Red Shoulder AT. The other two followed, Seti putting her helmet on as the cockpit depressurized, Emma waving to the retreating woman, trying to catch her attention.
"Hey, Solana! Take-"
"Don't worry. She can handle herself."
#55 gave Seti a curious look, but demanded no further explanation. Better to move as quickly and quietly as possible. She hefted her own weapon - a short-barreled survival shotgun, it seemed, and kicked off from the surface in the direction of the TSFs. At the very least, she thought, they'd have some rations worth salvaging... Hopefully.
Lastly, Seti, now alone, gave a sigh. She knew where to start, at least - and pushed herself off in the direction of the M1 Astray. The battery was likely long dead, she realized - but the external controls to remove the cockpit door were designed to work even in emergencies. Who would have known, she thought glumly, that her training at Omer would pay off like this?