When the alcove grinds open after the interminable wait, you stride out onto the deck. It has that odd burned steak smell of steel exposed to the irradiating heat of the void. Besides the three bikes the whole space is empty and echoing with the groan of a warship correcting trajectory from the impromptu adjustment of decompressing such a large space. The amber light has stilled and normal glowbulbs illuminate the space.
Kraevus stands close beside you, hands on hips and jerks his head at the large doors at the end of the bay. +I am glad you took my advice.+
The three Space Marine Bikes of Outrider Two-Five sit in a line, exactly where you left them, complete with the supply palettes which were bolted to the deck. The body of the Deckmaster still decorates his alcove, his cybernetic eyes dull and empty, staring down in mute accusation.
The heady scent of something pungent stirs and as you lift your boot a fragment of the Mjod cask lies crushed beneath it.
All hatches open, secured from emergency state.