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Crew - "Was ist hier los?"

Posted on 2019-01-28 12:05 by Captain Amelia Waterhouse & Lieutenant JG Lexil & Lieutenant JG Lem Broll M.D. & Lieutenant JG Cillian Jarkil & Ensign Centurion Drummond & Lieutenant JG Mayoko Takeuchi

Mission: Ozma
Location: CYBERSPACE (Palace of the Raptor)
Timeline: After reporting to Pond, before helping Lexi


  1. Priority queue: evaluate IN PROGRESS

  2. Team: Confirm safety recurring, prioritized by age

  3. Self: Confirm safety recurring, prioritized by age

  4. Empress: locate and determine status



A short list, but the first two would be continuous and recurring, the last was no joke, and Centurion knew that more tasks were likely to come up with every moment that passed. It approved the priority queue and set to work.

Team: Centurion cycled through each of its teammates; it was already tracking each of them through their communicators, so checking each through the ballroom sensors was trivial. None of them could really be called safe, but each seemed to be moving towards an exit, most either unnoticed or already taking care of their noticers.

Lem's previous attempts to get towards the Empress, however, had drawn attention from a guard near the stage. Centurion scrambled through its library for a suitable diversion. As the guard began to step forward, a tall, dark-haired human man in glasses stepped in front of him from just outside his range of vision.

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Can you tell me why you're working with - uh - Empress Vimila?"

"Get with the others, before I shoot you." The Romulan pressed his disruptor into Clark's chest.

Clark allowed itself to be pushed backwards, arms up. It took a step back, as well, attempting to appear non-threatening but keep the guard's attention long enough to be sure Lem was forgotten. "Is she paying you or is this a loyalty thing?"

"You wouldn't get it, Terran. Go." The disruptor was pressed harder as the guard stayed close, guiding Clark towards the ambassador's group at the other side of the stage. He looked around as they walked.

"Right, right, fair enough, us humans are notoriously bad at empathy." Sensors showed that Lem was now thoroughly out of sight. Clark let itself be led to a large group, spouting a few more questions such as "has the Empress tried the ales" and "who designed the Empress's dress", then slipped behind them where nobody was looking and dematerialized.

Another cycle through the crew — everything seemed to be on track. Centurion reset the age/priority of that task to 'new' and moved on to the next.

Self: the network was already as under control as it could get at the moment, but discovery of the bot Centurion rode in on could make things complicated very quickly. A scan of this floor, starting with this conference room.

No sign of organics, but there was a ping from under the table — unexpected technology. It could be anything. In theory. In practice, it appeared to be a carrot.

"Talos..." LtJG Lexil's voice, out of breath, came through the comms "Give me a holographic Imperial Guardsman guarding the Northeast Stairwell entrance quickly! Just for show nothing special."

Easy enough. It had prepared specifically for this possibility, in fact — a moment later, the requested guard was in place. "Confirmed, Daphne. Holo access online, you're covered for now. Unknown how they identified the loyal guards, so I could get made at any time."

It left the guard in an idle loop, then projected a small low-poly self to retrieve the carrot — which turned out to be an isolinear chip. It plugged it into the console.

As the carrot was plugged in, it started to transmit its data to the computer. First thing it did was scan for the presence of watchdog programs and code with the earmarks of Starfleet programming. It was only a nano second before it verified the computer was safe and recognized the presence of Tory. A number of data packets presented themselves to Tory with labels: ACME Personal Transporter; ACME Empress Locator; README.

After a scan to confirm that it was just a text file, Tory opened the file labeled README.

                 `-._\ /   `~~"--.,_
------>| `~~"--.,_
_.-'/ '.____,,,,----"""~~```'

--- W H A T ' S U P D O C ? ---

INCLUDED ARE THE SPECS FOR THE PERSONAL TRANSPORTER THAT IS ON
ITS WAY TO THE EMPRESS. ITS RANGE IS LIMITED, AND IT APPEARS THE
RESIDENCE FLOORS HAVE THEIR OWN SHIELD, INDEPENDENT OF THE
BUILDING'S SHIELDS.

GOOD LUCK, AND TELL WATERBUCKET SHE OWES ME.


It wasn't often that new information played into its priority list, instead of making it longer. Well, in addition to making it longer.

New to-do: Brief captain on 'carrot'.

A quick sweep of the hallway finished off the 'self' to-do.
Empress: Centurion activated the file labeled 'ACME Empress Locator.'

Attempting to establish connection...


Of course. Centurion left it running, checked the transporter specs for any gotchas, and then began trying to crack into the Empress's residential systems - where the README had implied that she was.

Where the security of the rest of the rest of the palace could be considered paranoid by some standards—though nothing insurmountable for properly trained intelligence operatives—the security on the residence floors made the rest of it seem like child's play.

Beginning crypto cracker. Time to completion: 0-37,000 years.


A little more time than was currently available. It stalked the perimeters of the network like a digital wolf, searching for vulnerabilities, for traffic in and out, for any users physically outside of the residential floors.

There was the port that had controlled the hologram. Closed, now, and a single open port wouldn't have been enough to break in anyway. Vimila's people were nothing if not thorough. There seemed to be no traffic in or out at this point — Vimila's people on the inside either needed no contact, or were using remote communicators not on the local grid.

No digital access, then. And any holoprojectors within the residential floors were, reasonably enough, on the same residential network. Frustrated, Centurion began searching the building for anything that looked like a server room.

Outside the conference room, three organics moved quietly and swiftly down the corridor — Amelia, followed by Mayoko, then Cillian. Amelia waited for Mayoko and Cillian to come to a stop behind her as she reached the door; in theory Tory should have the room secured, but assuming anything when in the field—especially in a hostile situation like this one—was what got good people killed.

"Move in immediately after I give the all clear," she said softly, then palmed the door controls. The door opened with a soft sigh, and Amelia moved inside leading with the disruptor. One sweep was all it took to verify the room was empty except for Tory's bot, and a carrot stuck into the computer terminal. "Clear." Amelia crossed to the terminal and reached towards the carrot, making a face as she stopped herself from touching it.

Cillian had been bringing up the rear, luckily no one seemed to have noticed their escape from the ballroom, yet, it was only a matter of time. On hearing the Captain's clear, Cillian glanced over his shoulder at Mayoko and nodded, indicating that he would be right behind her.

Mayoko, being unarmed, was next inside the room. She felt a little useless in the shadow of Amelia and Cillian, more specifically of their physical prowess and of course the fact that they were both armed and she was not. Still, she made the best of the situation that she could, moving quickly inside the room as instructed and taking stock of the surroundings, making a mental note of anything that could be useful. She was hoping to find something to use as a weapon. The furniture was all built specially, no legs she could unscrew or pieces she could remove, probably replicated in one piece and beamed into place. She found nothing more useful than a large potted plant which unless you were fighting zombies from a certain early 21st-century computer game was of no real use to anyone.

A series of displays popped up above the conference table. All flat, displaying text. The most visible said, in large friendly letters, Carrot was a gift from unknown actors. Believe (former?) Empress is in her residential floors. Attempting to gain access; no current leads.

Another display showed a nigh-empty progress bar:

Cracking crypto. Time remaining: 0 seconds - 36,999 years 364 days 23 hours 56 minutes.
[ ]


Still others showed the contents of the README file from the carrot, the specs of the empress's transporter, and a message about a connection being established.

The appearance of all the displays from Tory pulled Amelia's attention away from the carrot. "Remember your manners, we fleshbags like to interact with someone who at least appears to be tangible. Can you project your lo-fi body?" Amelia focused on the data Tory displayed, lingering the longest on the specs for the transporter. "And please give me access to what you're working on with the encryption." Amelia's fingers tapped at the conference table, waking up an input and projecting a blank display among the cluster that Tory already activated.

Lo-fi Tory appeared, obediently, next to the captain, and spoke as numbers began to fill her screen — headers from intercepted encrypted traffic. "The encryption is entirely unfamiliar; the brute force cracker is just in case it gets lucky. Sweeping sensors for any servers that aren't on my network, to establish hardware access."

Amelia rolled her eyes up and to the right for a brief moment before her fingers danced on the table's controls. The building blueprints materialized. "Oh, there are things on this copy that Daphne hadn't found. I'm sure she'll be interested–" Amelia bit her lip as she traced her finger through the projection. "Main computer core is here–" a room was highlighted in the basement– "and looks like a second one was installed here within the last month within the residential floors. If Bugs Bunny's read me is accurate—and she has a talent for being annoyingly right—I'd focus our attention on getting at the second core in the residence. Do you see projectors in the areas just outside those shields, the specs I found don't go to that level of details." Amelia started flicking at the display filled with numbers, doing a quick sort on the headers based on her gut, sorting them into groups. "If not, one of us fleshbags will have to go up and see if we can physically patch you through. Can you analyze and see if my intuition's grouping gives you any similarities to focus the decryption programs on?"

Tory remained still, not bothering to synthesize body language. "Grouping... may be useful." The numbers on the crypto cracker dipped drastically, rose again, then finally stabilized on a figure still measured in days. "No projectors there. Looks like your turn." The hologram stirred now, to look around and include all the organics in its statement.

Cillian had stayed close to the door, covering it his finger lying to the side of the trigger, last thing he wanted was to blast Lexil when she walked in.

"Persephone, if you're going to be cracking encryptions for a significant length of time, maybe Thalassa can have your disruptor and assist me with covering the door?" He'd seen her looking around for a weapon and the Captain was about to launch into 'nerd space'. With only one door to the room, if they were discovered to be in here a heavy assault was the only way to take them out. They'd probably consider the loss of life worth the cost. "Use the table for cover," he added, his gaze only flicking away from the the door for a moment. Either way, they couldn't linger here too long or they'd be discovered by chance rather than design. Mayoko had been thinking the same thing and approached the Captain at the terminal. The strange thing was that while Cillian was technically a pilot, and she technically a security officer, she felt Cillian had more of a handle on the operative part of the job. She still hadn't conquered her fears of physical dominance. She was starting to think perhaps she never would.

Amelia looked down at the disruptor that sat on the table under her hand. Old habits die hard, and multiple years of doing this sort of thing alone meant she was dividing her attention between the door and the crypto instinctively. She also didn't like the idea of giving up a weapon when she didn't know when she'd get a replacement. She still knew it was the right thing to do, since an officer dedicated to watching the door was better than one who was dividing her attention. She checked the safety, then held it out with the handle pointed toward Mayoko.

"We need to acquire more weapons." Amelia drug her finger through the building blueprints again, but didn't see any weapons lockers indicated. "When Daphne gets here, maybe she can find where the weapons are kept."

Mayoko took the disruptor, looking it over and getting a feel for the unfamiliar weapon. She quickly checked the setting and moved to join Cillian watching the doorway for company. Amelia had raised a point though that stuck in her head. Where was Lexil?

"Inform me the moment Daphne arrives, I'll need her help with the building plans," Amelia directed over her shoulder at Cillian and Mayoko, then turned her focus fully towards the screen with the encryption data displayed. She touched two diagonal corners, and drug outwards—the projected screen enlarged at her gesture—and with the wave of her hands, the other screens spread out so they weren't hiding behind the newly enlarged one. "Now, you said we had evidence of Tal Shiar, have we checked for some of their more common encryption tricks? Their fondness for irrational numbers in their encryption keys, and the use of that old dialect of theirs?" As she asked, Tory's decryption programs started highlighting chunks of the data as it was fairly confident it had deciphered it and Amelia traced over the text with her fingers. "It's been years since– Mosliorae it was called. Please tell me that–" Amelia had been about to say the name of the author of Tory's localization pack—Eustace Houghton, a man she thought of as family—and remembered that while the room seemed secure enough, it was better not to give any identifying information just in case. "That it's in your Romulan localization pack? I should have reviewed it during prep for the mission." She pulled a face, irritated that she'd missed something that seemed so obvious now.

"Mosliorae... here it is. Reducing numeric search space to focus on irrational numbers. The cracker is looking for known languages, I will patch it with my UT." Tory was still motionless; in this form it didn't even have lips to move along with the voice, which came from both its holographic form and the conference table. "I am through the firewall, but most of the files have secondary encryption of some sort. Assist in prioritization?"

The new data filled Amelia's screen and again her finger traced over it, flicking things left and right, up and down. After a minute, she pursed her lips. "Age on these files seem to be the youngest, which means they were active most recently. I'd start there." She flicked one out of the right group into the top group as it updated. "We have to assume they've picked up new tricks and habits. It's been three decades since we've seen any indication they've been active. We have no way of knowing who survived and who didn't, what fresh blood they've gotten into the organization, and how that'll affect their encryption habits. But this is enough to make me confident that the Tal Shiar back Vimila."

In seconds, the first few files had turned green to indicate decryption. "Sensor logs. Continually updating, with differing delays - audio 1.4 second behind, visual 2.6 seconds, advanced scanners ranging from 2.4 to 12.8. I can patch them together–" Tory's smiley face suddenly frowned and seemed to burst; though still contained on the plane of the front of my head, it had expanded, dropped to an even lower resolution, and shook slightly. Over the next couple of seconds, it began to resolve itself back to its usual form. Meanwhile, another screen appeared over the conference table.

Amelia only spared a momentary glance at the new screen before she directed her attention at Tory. "What just happened to your face? We haven't been detected, have we?" She looked back at her screen full of data and the new screen that now that had a view of a room that presumably was inside the residence. None of the figures in view were facing the sensors collecting the visual, audio, and other data.

"No detection, Captain. My apologies. It was... imagine that your left eye were suddenly a second behind your right, and viewing everything as though it had rotated a radian or so within its socket, and your right eye had a fish-eye lens. Now imagine a similar variety of distortions across all 238 of your eyes, and then attempting to paint a photorealistic picture based on that vision." Tory suddenly became aware that it was babbling. "Digital nausea. That is all."

"All two-hundred and thirty-eight of your eyes..." Amelia cocked her head to one side as she looked at Tory again. "Digital nausea. What is making your nauseous?"

"I see Paieon," Mayoko said quietly from her position by the door.

And so she did, a bewildered Paieon moved towards where they had agreed to meet, he was a bit out of his element, still getting used to to the sneaking around. A little sigh went through his lips as he noticed he came close to the meeting spot. His training days were long over, but this still gave him a rush. He felt like a secret agent all over again like the first few times in the simulations. He came up to the door with a little hop in his step, familiar to his general demeanor.

A few taps on the door and a small whisper. "I heard some gods had a medical emergency."

Mayoko smiled warmly at the Bolian as he moved past into the conference room, keeping her eyes on the corridor beyond. Only Lieutenants Lexil and Drake to arrive and the team would be fully accounted for. She scanned the area Lem had emerged from as the most likely point another figure would appear. At length they did, it was Lexil.

"Daphne inbound."

As she approached the rendezvous it became clear that not all was well. Mayoko caught her eye and saw the visible look of relief on her face as Lexil finally approached the door. Her neck was red, very red in fact and the hand of her left stun glove was spattered with green Romulan blood. Her hair, previously ornate and impressive was a mess, loose around her shoulders and her neck and chest were striped with trickles of red blood, most likely her own. Mayoko held her spare hand out to steady the chief science officer as she approached, being careful to avoid the sharp dagger-pin still clutched in her hand but this gesture was met with an uncurtailed look of annoyance and Mayoko shrank back allowing Lexil to enter unaided. She was after all still Denobulan and despite being roughed up did not take well to physical contact.

"What happened?" Mayoko whispered as Lexil took the opportunity to flop into the nearest seat.

"Imperial guard," Lexil managed to reply hoarsely before descending into a tirade of spluttering coughs. She lent her head on her arm on the conveniently placed conference table to bring them under control and took several large, faltering breaths.

Cillian laid a hand on Mayoko's shoulder, and figured he was the only person in the room who could possibly 'get' what Lexil was going through. "Daphne, no one is going to touch you," he said, partly for everyone else's benefit; if someone had tried to choke him, he wouldn't want a hug either, and he was only part Denobulan. "Were you followed?"

Lexil shook her head in reply, her mane of wavy hair bouncing off her cheeks and casting tiny droplets of blood onto the floor at her feet. She placed the dagger down on the table next to her and looked up at Cillian, her blooded chest still heaving. She looked back down and started to pull some hair ornaments from her head with a grimace and cast them onto the table most of which had been forced a millimetre or two into the scalp by the impact with the marble.

There was blood on the hair ornaments, hers, and green blood on the dagger and considering the amount on her... "The guard that attacked you, can he identify you?" A more delicate way of asking if he was dead. "Do you need Paieon to check you over?" She needed to know she wasn't alone, but without being touched.

Lexil shook her head again to Cillian's first question and gripped the dagger for a moment by way of explanation. To his second she nodded and pointed to the back of her head.

Lem conjured a small tricorder out of his gear and looked at the science officer. "Ah, just like a goddess, can't be taken down." A gentle step towards her and holding up of the medical gear. "Now, I might have to touch some areas near the wounds, is that okay with you?" He was ever so gentle, while he didn't understand the lack of physical contact he did respect it. His own culture was quite the opposite. A little sigh. "I'm going to need to regenerate this right now. Next to that you need terakine for the pain and when we get back, lots of dermal stimulation, maybe some protoplazing, depending on how well it's going."

A quick look at her shaken state and then a small nod. "You'll be fine, Daphne. Can you breath in deeply for me?"

This was harder than it sounded, at least without coughing again. The grip the Romulan Guardsman had held on her neck was strong and had done some damage. Lexil concentrated as she performed Lem's request but ended up coughing again all the same.

Lem did a quick nod and sighed. "The sedative I'll give you, Terakine, will make it hurt less. It won't be easy to move for a while." A quick glance at the Captain to indicate Lexil really needed to be out of here to rest. "Just try to let the others do the hard work now, okay?"

Lexil nodded and gave Lem a smiled thank you as the words themselves would only cause more coughing. Inside she was glad the doctor was with them, now she could focus on the rest of the mission instead of being distracted by pain and worrying about what damage had been done. She was also glad Cillian had been there, no-one quite understood the delicate ambivalence of wanting medical care but not wanting to be touched like another Denobulan. She gave him her cat-like smile too in turn, showing not how she felt but simply that she would be ok.

Amelia had watched quietly as Lem had attended to Lexil's medical needs, ignoring the encryption and data coming from the residential floors for the moment — she trusted Tory to keep an eye on it. One more team member out there, and then they had two tasks ahead of them: attempting to get to the Empress and disrupting the building shields enough for beam out. The team would probably need to split up, and they realistically wouldn't be able to stay here. Eventually the guard that Lexil had dealt with would be noticed—either the body found or someone notice them missing—they couldn't stay in one place long, especially not somewhere so close to the ballroom.

"Daphne, do we need to find you somewhere secure to wait until extraction, or are you good to continue?" Amelia hated to even ask it, especially since training would have impressed in everyone here that you keep moving no matter what. Which meant she was almost certain the decision that Lexil would make.

Lexil looked up at Amelia as she heard her codename. Pain killers and regeneration would sort her immediate issues and despite a few surface wounds and a badly bruised throat she was ok to move about as required. She shook her head and gave Amelia a pained smile and a nod — she would much rather stay with the team. She began to prepare herself for the next part of the journey. She removed her stun gloves, wiped her hair pin with them and used it to roughly bun her hair up away from her shoulders. The other glove, relatively free of green Romulan blood, was used to wipe her chest and neck down and both were turned inside out and stowed in Mayoko's bag, with a smile to its owner and a glance outside the room down the corridor.

"Persephone mentioned finding more weapons. Are you okay to look at the plans?" Mayoko asked the Denobulan quietly as she peered over her shoulder down the corridor. Lexil nodded and turned towards the projected plans, but something caught her eye as she did. The small model of the building surrounded by ornamental columns was actually a perfect built-to-scale water bottle and set of glasses. Lexil crossed the room with purpose and after a moment's study pulled the top off the bottle and chugged the first third of its contents after an experimental sniff and taste to verify it was in fact water. Lem's regeneration and analgesic were taking effect and she was starting to feel better. She cleared her throat experimentally and in a much more typically Lexil fashion than previously floated over to the plans to begin her work. She skillfully manipulated the 3D outline of the building and quickly zoomed in to the crew's locale.

"Hmm," she said, slightly hoarsely, but it was a definite improvement. "I believe our best chance of disruptors would be here." An area in a corridor on the level above the Ballroom was highlighted red. "It's either a weapons locker or a broom closet. Either way, we have weapons," she joked.

"As long as I don't get shot, I should be a match for any Romulans we cross paths with, but I'd prefer the team have disruptors on a matter of principle. It's on the way up to the residential floors and—if I'm not mistaken—the nearest supplemental shield generator. So, we can plan the route through there before the teams split, and if necessary, liberate the disruptors from guards as we cross their path." Amelia looked Lexil over carefully, missing the joke, then looked to Tory. "Can we get access to the security feeds for the stairwells, so we can pick–" Amelia stopped speaking as the indicator for the display that had been showing 'attempting to connect...' had finally changed its output. It displayed a map of the residential floors and a carrot that was slowly pulsing lighter and darker ever so slightly. A button appeared at the bottom of the display that simply said 'hop'.

Tory pulled another display to the fore—for the benefit of the organics, as it was already reviewing the contents digitally—and began to summarize. "Empress has a personal transporter; shields around residential floors limit its range. Hop button sends her on a random hop; presumably we should use it when needed to get her out of trouble." Simultaneously, three-dimensional schematics appeared—the four stairways, with everything between them elided, showing only the floors from their current location to the Empress, in a format any good security guard would be familiar with—red callouts for any organics on the sensors, blue for any motion not associated with an organic, and a thin layer of white "noise" on every surface, occasionally forming into distinct shapes, showing the differences between sensor results and the stored schematics of the building.

"Okay, let's avoid making use of the hop unless she's in direct danger, to avoid tipping anyone off we're here as long as possible." Amelia stepped closer to Tory's abridged floor plan, and touched it to highlight the room Lexil had suggested was probably a weapon's locker. "Thalassa, you're going to lead the team for the shield generator, and we'll distribute our medical between the two groups: Psyche with you, and Paieon with the team collecting the Empress. Any requests among the rest of you before I just divide you up?"

"Captain," Tory interjected, "Problem with that plan." One of the stairwells displayed over the table inflated to near-real-size, the color-coded surveillance display giving way to a realistic view from visual sensors. Near the edge, quickly blurring as they left sensor range, a pair of Imperial guards were forcibly carrying away a humanoid form in a serving uniform. A glimpse of red hair was visible before they got completely out of range.

"QI'yaH¹." Amelia clenched her fist and looked to Tory. "Do what you can to monitor the situation, but we have to focus on getting the Empress out before Vimila does whatever she has planned for her. If possible, we'll attempt to beam Psyche out with us when we leave. Paieon, you're with Thalassa now to handle the shields. Daphne, Hermes, you're with me to go get the Empress. Talos, what is going to give you better access to help? Staying in the palace computers, or getting back into your bot?"

"With the bot I could — no. Leave me here, send the bot with the shields team. It has a couple of simple behaviors loaded on it that may be useful. I will be in contact with both teams by comms." As it spoke, the hologram unplugged the bot from the wall and set it on the edge of the table.

"Okay. Northwest stairwell looks empty, I think they're presuming it's secured since they took over the checkpoint into the ballroom. Hermes take lead, Thalassa bring up the rear. Anything before we move out?" One of the away team seriously injured, though thankfully still well enough to stay on task, and another captured — Amelia was not happy with the situation, but there was nothing could be done but press forward at this point.

Lexil abandoned the plans she had been looking at and moved into position by the door ready to move out. She nodded to Mayoko's "Are you OK?", the pain was largely gone now thanks to Lem's meds, she just hoped they held out until they were back on board ship. She buried the shock of Harper being captured and focussed on getting through the mission. The guard's dead eyes flashed in her mind and she forcibly pushed the image aside. She'd deal with that later. She gave a nod to Amelia. She was ready. She watched the corridor while Mayoko made for the terminal and scooped up the Tory bot which she perched on her shoulder bag.

"Can you grip my bag?" She asked Tory. "I want both hands free."

Tory's voice sounded through the communicators. "Activating cling protocol..." There was a moment's pause, then the bot slid a few legs under the strap, securing itself. "Reaction times for the bot may be delayed when loading new protocols."

"Understood. I think we're ready Persephone." Mayoko announced quietly taking her place back by the door, disruptor in hand.

Lem looked out over the shoulder of Mayoko, he'd let her lead and grabbed his little medical kit himself to put on his belt. "Well, I certainly am. Doctor to the gods." He chuckled as he took place behind Mayoko, codenamed Thalassa.

Cillian had nodded at the allocation of teams, no need for discussion and having not moved from his position by the door was ready to move out. He’d barely glanced across at the table, but he’d seen enough to know what had happened to Harper, he felt an unpleasant knot forming in his stomach, an edge of guilt at having left her on her own in the ballroom, but right now they had to concentrate on getting themselves out in one piece. He rolled his shoulders, checked his grip on the disruptor, glanced behind him to see if everyone was ready and then looked back out the crack in the door, down the corridor, waiting for the signal to move out.

"Let's get moving. The longer we stay, the more likely they are to come looking after having found Psyche. Paieon, follow right behind Hermes, with Daphne next. I'll follow her right before Thalassa. We split to our two objectives from the weapon's locker. When it's clear, move out Hermes." Amelia took one more look at the information displayed above the table, then waited to be able to follow the others out of the room.

Cillian responded immediately, operating on instinct at this point, he stepped up to the door, knocked it open with his foot and checked it in the direction he could see before levelign the disruptor and sweeping round as he moved his body around the doorframe. "Clear," he reported and headed out into the corridor, heading for the weapons locker.

=/\= End Log =/\=
Captain Amelia Waterhouse
Commanding Officer
USS Joshua Norton

Lieutenant JG Lexil
Acting Chief Science Officer
USS Joshua Norton

Lieutenant Junior Grade Lem Broll M.D.
Surgeon
USS Joshua Norton, NCC-74819-A

Lieutenant JG Cillian Jarkil
Pilot
USS joshua Norton - NCC-74819-A

Crewman "Centurion" Drummond
Engineering Crewman
USS Joshua Norton, NCC-74819-A

NPCs by Jessica: LtJG Mayoko Takeuchi, Demolitions Specialist

¹ - One of the strongest, most foul Klingon expressions; it defies translation.

 

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