The doctor looked quizzically at Mako.

"Hoji, you didn't tell me you brought us sashimi for the trip. It looks fresh, too. How thoughtful of you."

His tone just barely sounded dull and cynical enough to indicate that he was aware he was being insulted by the shark, and that he was indeed retaliating, and not being yet more senile.

Doc H flitted (well, as fast as he could "flit", more like puttered with his little jetpack) back around Badge and slapped him feebly on the shoulder. Something sounded like it popped or cracked when he did so. "Comecome now, I'll show you the controls," declared the moth, before casually butt-dropping on Tank and giving him the last little nudge necessary to fall through the hatch.

A crash and the sound of something surely breaking came from inside.

"We're okay!"



Anyway, once the others made their way in, they'd find... that it was actually pretty dang luxurious for a submarine. Rather than having that raw, metal-bodied look one might associate with the inside of old nuclear subs from movies and the like, it looked more like some sort of space-age automobile or aircraft interior, with curvaceous, clean white panels, brassy details, cool blue lights, brushed steel panels, advanced displays, large seats and numerous handrails, and all sorts of other needlessly expensive-looking amenities, including at least a couple small refrigerators of refreshments. The main deck was a moderate-sized, round chamber, with a cushy captain's seat, the helmsman's seat at the very front in a section of recessed, monitor-laden wall, and various other stations, including a navigation area at the dead-center, with a glowing volumetric display of the Earth free-floating in the air. There were no windows to be spoken of at all; just lots of screens providing camera feeds that mimicked real view ports, including a large, round one on the ceiling. The seats were cushy, but waterproof-looking. Off to the side of the room was actually an open hole—A moonpool—with water beneath, kept out purely by the pressure of the cabin.

"Mind this thing," grumbled Henshin as he carefully approached it, minding his footing most attentively, and flipped a lever. A panel slid shut over it and locked into place. (So that was how he got wet.)

"Before we set out, there is one thing of vital importance," he then announced, then gave everyone present a crotchety, sour glare, one by one. "... None of you get seasick, right? If you need to barf your guts out, do it before we leave! No vomiting allowed! At all!"

OOC: I think we've stalled out a little, so I'm going to take the liberty of assuming everybody got on board (except Target, obviously), and move this thang forward.

---------





... *Ping.*

... *Ping.*

... *Ping.*

There was something soothing, almost drowsying about that dark, submerged chamber, with the gentle whir of the motors, the occasional hissing of the bubbles in the babbling water, the slow, soft, repeating "ping" of the sonar... Dr. Henshin had long since succumbed to the gentle bobbing of the vessel in the sea. Reclined in his cushy captain's chair with his head back and slouched over at an awkward angle, light, buzzy snores escaped his mouth every few seconds, then, with almost regular rhythm, ceased for many (potentially nerve-wracking, pulse-checking) seconds, before resuming with a loud snort, gasp, and apparently continued respiration.

It was fortunate that the vehicle was actually pretty user friendly. The old moth had done little more than sit Hoji down and tell him how to "make it go," but thankfully, the display in front of the heroic raccoon very clearly indicated a series of virtual "waypoint" markers directing the route to the destination, so there wasn't much guesswork involved.

The water outside was bright and blue. It wasn't a particularly deep section of the ocean. A large, dark silhouette, blurry and blobby through the distortion of the depths, had begun to form some distance ahead, and the markers indicated that they were closing in quickly on the target. It was an undersea base of some sort, and from the looks of things, a huge one, at that. They were certainly within range of the defenses of such a structure, but from the looks of things, there was no resistance... Close examination would reveal robots and submersibles of all kinds, shark-like, piranha-like, and just plain submarine-like, all floating aimlessly, completely inactive and unresponsive. A warship-sized submarine (or perhaps even a versatile airship of some sort) floated quietly, unmanned and unmoving. Torpedo launchers, standing tall on underwater towers and jutting from the rocky spires on the sea floor, didn't turn or respond to the group's presence. The entire facility lacked any signs of life whatsoever, save one thing: The lights were on in the main structure.


One more OOC note: You guys told me that you benefit greatly from having some kind of mental image to associate with things. Pictures of non-existent underwater bases are alarmingly hard to find. I think this is pretty awesomecore, though, so check it out. Click.