Focusing on what little remains of the cockpit shows little trace of there ever being life here, the skeletons completely scoured of any mana that might have still lingered. The cockpit is devoid of astral signatures, though a bad vibe still looms, ever so slightly in the room, like the crew still left something behind.
Interupted by the crackling sound of the CVR coming in over AR feed, Fisher snaps back into realspace, over everyone's AR tellemetry from the crash, and the video/audio recording of the flight deck shows.
The Tupelov was skimming very close to the ground, just skirting over the shoreline, and frozen swamps. Heavy back winds, though pushing the craft along, were providing noticeable turbulence. It had been flying for some time by now, the plane's origin is listed as Wateji, Pakistan. Some 6'000 Kilometers away.
The co pilot was sitting in his chair, pivoted sideways looking out the window bored, the Pilot looking over his instruments intently, adjusting this and that to maintain stability. A few minutes pass, the co pilot jumps in his seat slightly and then shivers. The pilot asks him if he is okay, the co pilot responds he's fine and just had a shiver. Another minute or two passes and the pilot remarks they're coming up over water for the last leg, the co pilot state's he's going to get some soycaf going, as he begins to sit up he looks out the window, then gets in close to peer out at something in the distance, off the starboard side.
He shouts to the pilot, "Look look, something bright coming at us! What is it?"
The pilot responds there is nothing on the radar, then stops mid sentence, and shouts to the crew to brace for impact. The FDR shows he attempted a crash landing, before any damage was reported. Not more than 2 seconds latter the entire craft shudders. The FDR shows that communication was lost, though the CVR continues to record.
The copilot shouts over the intercom, "Something, a missile, something I didn't see a smoke contrail just struck us!" Loud klaxons sound in the cockpit, the entire aircraft bucks violently, horrendous screeching of metal is heard for several seconds.
The pilot screams over his intercom, the co pilot yells for the crew, "Grgur is hurt, is everyone else okay?... I repeat, is everyone okay?... Damn!" The copilot attempts to help the pilot out of his chair, he appears quite badly battered, and is bleeding from his head. The copilot refrains from unbuckling after observing the pilot, instead disappearing and coming back with a medical bag, digging around for something. The copilot mutters and swears under his breath, "Flight Computer, report our current location!"
The flight computer responds in its own droning female voice. "Currently we are 76° 29 Minutes and 36.11 Seconds North, 98° 54 Minutes and 51.53 Seconds East."
The copilot responds, "Take those coordinates and send an encrypted distress signal back to our origin, and another to our destination, I'll be damned if we're going to sit here and get picked off by pirates."
Digging out what appears to be a medical brace the copilot attempts to set the pilot's neck. "You were right, we should've passed this one up, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I actually got us into this one. Never should have listened to those bastard reps from Alchemix, fucking safe route my ass.... There, now just, rest I'll get you some morphine and send out a distress signal." The co pilot takes out a small syringe, the captain still sobbing unable to speak calms down after being doped. The co pilot, carefully reclines the pilot's seat as far as it will go.
The aircraft's flight computer comes over the intercom again, "Transmission not sent, encryption protocol denied."
The copilot responds, "Shit, what, they can't shut us out, we've got their cargo! Contact the nearest municipal airport, send out a distress signal, anything! What's the status on our sensor package, what is still functioning?"
"Cameras 1, 2, 3, and 5 are damaged, cameras 4, and 6 functioning, flight radar is running, GPS functioning, air speed sensor 1 is damaged, sensor 2 is -"
"Skip the extraneous details, shut down the radar, monitor for movement using the cameras!"
about 20 minutes of the recording from this point lack anything but ambient audio. The flight computer chimes in, "Multiple signatures on approach."
The copilot, coming in from the cargo bay shouts to the computer,"What are they, give me the feed!... Tanks!? ... To anyone who finds this recording, this is Danko Pastukov, copilot of this aircraft, I have no doubt we were shot down by a competing company. We were carrying some sort of awakened crude oil, and now they're coming to take it - shit, they're coming here now! I don't know who they are, but I would have to guess they've been hired by MCT. We were hit just south of where we are now, some sort of missile, the pilot is unconscious now, the rest of the crew died in the impact. The missile I saw came from the south, I don't know how they found us though. Shit-" The copilot, produces a gun from under his jumpsuit, in his other hand he holds what appears to be a flare gun. Shouting is heard moments latter, then gunfire. The copilot runs back into the flight deck and slams the door behind him, taking cover behind his chair, he begins to carve something into his seat back with a knife. Shouting, and what sounds like a fire can be heard in the background, the flight computer warning of a fire in the cargo bay. Moments latter banging is heard, the copilot draws his gun and fires at something out of view, another few seconds latter and the entire screen goes white, then the camera feed dies.
