Alien: Isolation

Chapter Two: Space Walk

"Oh, I hope we dock soon." Taylor said as they all looked out the window to see the station. "I can't wait to get off this ship… not that I don't like your ship, Captain, I'm just looking forward to getting on more solid ground… not that your ship isn't solid or anything like that."

"You can relax, Ms. Taylor." Verlaine replied while shaking her head. "Yes, we'll be docking soon, but we need to contact the station first. I think our contact is a Marshal, um… Waits? Is that it? Connor, open a channel so I can say hello."

Ripley watched as the member of the crew that was manning the radio ran through a quick check, and announced that everything was in working order before informing her that the channel was open. Verlaine then ran through what sounded like a pre-practiced speech about her ship's passengers being on a Weyland-Yutani Bond, as well as quickly outlining their mission to take possession of the Nostromo's flight data recorder. What the Captain got in return was a garbled mess of static and crackling, and while it sounded like there were a few words mixed in, there was no way to understand what they were.

"Comms must be down." Samuels commented, still looking out the window. "A common occurrence in remote outposts… it that the station, there… can we see it yet?"

Verlaine signaled for the monitors to be turned on, and the massive form of Sevastopol Station was seen. It looked like three shadowy towers against the light coming from the gas giant, but what concerned Ripley was that the tower structure on the far right appeared to have suffered damage… at least it looked like damage; likely from a meteor storm. However, when the monitor was zoomed into a tight angle around the damaged section, this was confirmed to be impossible. The damage was extensive, sure, but the metal and outer hull was bent outward, meaning that whatever had caused it had come from within.

"Looks like the docking bay is screwed." Connor commented. "Not to mention the whole area around it."

"Well, I can't bring the Torrens into that." Verlaine replied, sitting down in her chair. "Open the channel again, see if you can boost the signal."

She made two more attempts to contact the station, but now there weren't even any words hidden in the mix of static. Frequency adjustments and signal boosting didn't seem to help either, meaning that the problem was definitely with Sevastopol's comms. Of course, now they had a problem: The Torrens couldn't land in what was left of the docking bay, and without a way to communicate with the station, the whole mission was brought to a standstill. Of course, this didn't make Ripley very happy, being that she had already waited for fifteen years to find out what happened to her mother… but now as she looked out the window at the station… perhaps there was another way.

"What about the airlocks?" She asked, pointing to a small access point on the station's outer hull. "We can use our pressure suits, and fire a zip-line to the station, while the Torrens acts as our anchor point. Then we can enter the station manually, link up with this Marshal Waits, or whatever his name is, and he can give you alternate docking instructions while we get the flight recorder."

"Pressure suits and airlocks?" Taylor asked nervously. "As in, go outside? I'm sorry, Ripley, but my contract doesn't cover bloody space-walks."

"Actually, Ms. Taylor, in this case it does." Samuels replied, moving back from the other window to join them. As you are both the legal representative of the company, as well as the highest ranking administrator assigned to this mission; regulations state that you must have eyes-on the flight recorder at all times once it is transferred from Sevastopol's custody to ours."

"Well, then it looks like we have a plan." Verlaine added as Taylor glared at Samuels. "So you three get your suits on while we move the Torrens into position, and then meet me at the airlock."

Going out into space was always dangerous, and nervousness was normal no matter how many times it was done, or at least that was what Ripley had been told during training. It was also said for some reason that the time to stop space walking was when there was no longer any fear, but she had plenty of it while they retrieved their suits from storage, so she was still good. Samuels appeared fine as he put his helmet on, and this was expected since there was a never ending debate going on as to whether or not Synthetics could actually feel emotions, but Taylor had enough for both of them even if he couldn't. She was constantly muttering to herself as she finished getting ready, and looked like she was going to faint when they headed for the airlock.

"There's a chance the station's comms can't be repaired." Verlaine said as she checked each of their suits and systems. "So I'm fitting Samuels' suit with a radio booster, since he's the least likely to get hurt, and I can only keep the Torrens in transit here for twenty four hours."

"I'd like to think you'll have heard from us before then." Samuels replied while she installed the system. "But good advice, just the same."

Final checks were complete a few minutes later, and all of their instruments were functioning properly, so with a final word of 'safe trip' from Verlaine, the Captain left the room, and Ripley led the others into the airlock. There was a beep from the console as the zip-line was launched from the outside of the Torrens, and a second one when it found its target, leaving nothing to do but wait for the depressurization cycle. A cycle that began with the inner doors closing, and an alarm sounding as the air was quickly sucked out of the chamber.

"Oh, fuck." Taylor said, breathing rapidly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, hating this."

"It's our only option." Ripley explained. "And it's perfectly safe if you do what I tell you, so just shadow me and you'll be fine, Taylor… you too, Samuels."

"Affirmative." He replied as the air and alarm stopped.

A couple seconds later the outer doors opened, leaving the whole of Sevastopol laid out before them, more brightly illuminated because of their proximity to the gas giant. One at a time they hooked up to the zip-line, Ripley going first, followed by an even more nervous looking Taylor, and finally Samuels. Now all they had to do was hold on as they slowly moved toward the hatch she noticed earlier, but now that they were getting closer, Ripley couldn't help but be amazed at the state of the place. There was a lot more structural damage than had been seen earlier, and she would have commented on it, if she hadn't been interrupted by a sudden explosion.

There was a flash of orange light as a large section of the station's hull was literally blown apart, sending huge pieces of shrapnel flying outward. Taylor screamed as the three of them tried to avoid the flying metal, and although none of their suits were punctured, the same couldn't be said for the zip-line. A large piece of metal slammed into it with so much force that not only was the line severed, but Ripley was also thrown sideways away from both the hatch and the Torrens. Everything was spinning as she bounced off the station's hull, but by some miracle she to grab the half of the zip-line that was still connected to Sevastopol as the end floated past her.

This stopped her from floating off into space, or worse, into the gas giant's gravity, and although understandably shaken from the experience, she was able to pull herself up the line until reaching some metal bars near the airlock hatch. The manual release lever was right there as well, so she pulled it, and there was a blast of escaping air as the station's outer doors opened. She then pulled herself inside, and there was more rushing air as the outer doors closed, causing the wind to be knocked out of her when gravity was restored, and she crashed to the floor.

"Taylor!" She called into the suit's radio while trying to catch her breath. "Samuels, anyone respond!"

There was an alarm going off, as well as a spinning orange light giving flashes of illumination, and although both of these things were irritating, it meant that the airlock was functioning properly. And good thing, too, since Ripley only now noticed that at some point during her eventful trip over, her helmet had become cracked. Obviously not enough to let vacuum in, since she was still alive, but enough to keep her from ever risking using it again. She tried to contact the others, as well as the Torrens with her suit's radio as the airlock inner doors opened, but there was nothing. The Torrens was probably just out of range, but as for Taylor and Samuels… she just didn't know.

For now, she needed to get into the station and find help, so Ripley pulled herself to her feet, and walked out of the chamber in order to remove the now useless pressure suit. No doubt the airlock personnel were going to want answers as to why there was an unauthorized access, and she was figuring out how to explain it, when she left the airlock control room and found… nothing but a darkened corridor. Some of the lights flickered on as she walked, but there were no people anywhere to be seen, and she was about to call out if anyone was there, when the whole corridor rocked to the side, making her stumble into the wall.

"Warning: Sevastopol stability compromised." An automated voice said. "Please proceed to the nearest Marshal checkpoint, and stand by while orbital stabilizers realign."

"Yeah, no shit." Ripley grumbled as the corridor began to level off. "Thanks for the warning, asshole."

Continuing down the darkened corridor, she was starting to notice just how neglected this section of the station was neglected. There was gas of some kind leaking out from cracked pipes in the walls, everything was dirty as if it hadn't been used in years, and there was even an entire section of the floor missing, probably from a long forgotten maintenance attempt. A wooden plank had been laid over the dark hole underneath, and she was trying to decide whether or not it looked safe enough to cross, when some movement caught her eye. On the other side, and around the corner, it looked like something large dropped from the ceiling, and then she saw the shadow of what looked like a large person coming closer.

Finally, some good news, she thought as she excitedly started across the wooden plank. Her hope was that this person would be able to tell her where to find Marshal Waits in order to get help for her missing comrades, but she didn't get the chance to ask. Just as she was starting across the second section of missing floor, the plank broke, and Ripley could only gasp as she fell into the darkness.