Mess Hall
Foxtrot_Uniform
Join Date: 2003-06-12 Member: 17328Members
Join Date: 2003-06-12 Member: 17328Members
<div class="IPBDescription">Safety within the mess hall?</div> Mess Hall
"I'm scared," Rachael whimpered, burying her face in Tom's chest. "I'm really scared."
"It's gonna be ok," Tom whispered back, letting his lips rest on her matted hair. She shuddered in his embrace. "We'll find a way out of here, hun."
The clawing at the door had ceased only moments ago, which put everyone on edge. Had they found another way in? Did they give up? Were they gone? Nobody knew an answer, but everyone had questions. There were twenty two people holed up in the mess hall of the mining facility. Most were men, but a few, like Rachael, were female members of the medical staff.
A man had his ear pressed against the door, listening intently for a sound from the other side. The Kharaa weren't quiet aliens. They burped and snorted quite often and their claws were known to rake across the metal surfaces of the ship like forks on fine china.
Tom was the last to make it into the mess hall before the door shut. He'd rounded the corner to see the door begin to lower and sprinted driven by the sight of Rachael beckoning him from just beyond the threshold. The skulks were at his heels, snapping and clawing, leaping at him from every direction. Tom flung himself to the metal grating, and rolled beneath the blast door just in time.
Rachael hugged him with tears on her cheeks, sobbing loudly and holding him tightly. He knew right then, that she shared the feelings that he felt for her.
"I think they're gone," the man at the door said hopefully, and then repeated, "I think they're gone!"
"Shut up you idiot," a black man scolded, sitting back in a chair. "Where the hell would they go, huh?"
The man backed away from the large blast door and began to pace around the room. The mess hall wasn't that large. The table in it formed an L-shape in the center and was accompanied by numerous, uncomfortable chairs. The tabletop was clean. Nobody had opened up the fridge or meat locker yet. Both were as large as the mess hall itself.
There were two windows. One, which was quite large, viewed outer space, which was a sight that one would never grow tired of. The other window was in the center of the blast door, but was impossible to see through, since the hall was enshrouded in steam and was blinking with red emergency lights.
The black man was the only one actually sitting at the table. The other twenty one, including Tom and Rachael, were huddled against walls and in corners, embracing each other, or chatting quietly.
Rachael seemed to have fallen asleep, for her breath became steadier, and the shuddering had ceased. Tom sat with her in his arms, looking about the room. He was grateful for the quiet that had finally come, following the end of the clawing at the door. He had to admit, the squealing of claw on metal had him gritting his teeth for a long time. He felt safe in the mess hall.
Tom was a member of the MOST, the Mining Operation Security Team, which explained the LMG that he carried, but currently, laid on the floor at his side. Rachael, his long time love interest, was a member of the medical team. They met in the aftermath of a rockslide, during which Tom sustained a sprained wrist. It was nothing serious at the time, but he milked it for all it was worth. The second he saw Rachael, he wanted all of her attention.
She'd been so delicate with the trivial injury, smiling while she went about inspecting his wrist. A big, beautiful smile. Big like the airvent Tom suddenly noticed on the ceiling.
"Christ," Tom mumbled, pushing Rachael off of him, and then yelled, "Christ, we gotta get that vent sealed!”
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part 2 soon if anyone's interested
"I'm scared," Rachael whimpered, burying her face in Tom's chest. "I'm really scared."
"It's gonna be ok," Tom whispered back, letting his lips rest on her matted hair. She shuddered in his embrace. "We'll find a way out of here, hun."
The clawing at the door had ceased only moments ago, which put everyone on edge. Had they found another way in? Did they give up? Were they gone? Nobody knew an answer, but everyone had questions. There were twenty two people holed up in the mess hall of the mining facility. Most were men, but a few, like Rachael, were female members of the medical staff.
A man had his ear pressed against the door, listening intently for a sound from the other side. The Kharaa weren't quiet aliens. They burped and snorted quite often and their claws were known to rake across the metal surfaces of the ship like forks on fine china.
Tom was the last to make it into the mess hall before the door shut. He'd rounded the corner to see the door begin to lower and sprinted driven by the sight of Rachael beckoning him from just beyond the threshold. The skulks were at his heels, snapping and clawing, leaping at him from every direction. Tom flung himself to the metal grating, and rolled beneath the blast door just in time.
Rachael hugged him with tears on her cheeks, sobbing loudly and holding him tightly. He knew right then, that she shared the feelings that he felt for her.
"I think they're gone," the man at the door said hopefully, and then repeated, "I think they're gone!"
"Shut up you idiot," a black man scolded, sitting back in a chair. "Where the hell would they go, huh?"
The man backed away from the large blast door and began to pace around the room. The mess hall wasn't that large. The table in it formed an L-shape in the center and was accompanied by numerous, uncomfortable chairs. The tabletop was clean. Nobody had opened up the fridge or meat locker yet. Both were as large as the mess hall itself.
There were two windows. One, which was quite large, viewed outer space, which was a sight that one would never grow tired of. The other window was in the center of the blast door, but was impossible to see through, since the hall was enshrouded in steam and was blinking with red emergency lights.
The black man was the only one actually sitting at the table. The other twenty one, including Tom and Rachael, were huddled against walls and in corners, embracing each other, or chatting quietly.
Rachael seemed to have fallen asleep, for her breath became steadier, and the shuddering had ceased. Tom sat with her in his arms, looking about the room. He was grateful for the quiet that had finally come, following the end of the clawing at the door. He had to admit, the squealing of claw on metal had him gritting his teeth for a long time. He felt safe in the mess hall.
Tom was a member of the MOST, the Mining Operation Security Team, which explained the LMG that he carried, but currently, laid on the floor at his side. Rachael, his long time love interest, was a member of the medical team. They met in the aftermath of a rockslide, during which Tom sustained a sprained wrist. It was nothing serious at the time, but he milked it for all it was worth. The second he saw Rachael, he wanted all of her attention.
She'd been so delicate with the trivial injury, smiling while she went about inspecting his wrist. A big, beautiful smile. Big like the airvent Tom suddenly noticed on the ceiling.
"Christ," Tom mumbled, pushing Rachael off of him, and then yelled, "Christ, we gotta get that vent sealed!”
----------------------------------------------------------------
part 2 soon if anyone's interested
Comments
have you put your stories in the offical fan-fic directory?
more
I like how he noticed the vent
*RAISES THREAD FROM PAGE TWO*
I WANT MORE
I do want to carry on this story, but i'd rather start over. I have to think on it.
thank you so much for the enthusiasm
=/
I really wanted this story to continue
I <i>really</i> want to see this one continued
but it's up to you =/