Lt Imril - They Can't ALL Be On Their Lunch Break!
Chris Taylor
(( The Afalqi Project, Hangar 1659 – Meranuge IV ))
The clatter of the platform’s collapse was still ringing in Imril’s ears as the Commander marched towards them. Its echoes made her bootsteps all the more ominous.
Munro: :: angry :: What was that?! You could've been killed :: to all of them :: It's not heroic to end up dead, get that fantasy out of your head now. All you get is your name on a list you don't want to be on :: to Imril :: I hope that data was worth it.
The look on her face wasn’t much different from Vitor’s, after they’d rushed back into a room under fire to preserve evidence under attack. But this day wasn’t like that one. Not anymore. Not just because of the Lieutenant's pip on Imril’s collar and the expectation of clearer decision-making it bore. They had Ollie to think about now. And, possibly, the young woman from that message on their personal computer.
Imril: I was wrong and reckless, Sir. It won’t happen again.
Munro: :: harsher than usual :: Roy, check them over.
She turned, walked away, took several breaths.
Bancroft: ::brief pause:: Right away, Commander.
She passed a look to Munro and Bancroft, one Imril couldn’t read, and then stepped off to the side as she tapped her combadge.
Bancroft: ::lightly:: Alright, are any of you dead? Barring that, any complaints? ::holding a finger up at Nat:: physical complaints.
Nat shot Roy a look.
Tarsan: All good, Doctor. Was far enough away ::taking a deep breath:: way too close though. Waaaaaay too close.
Indeed.
Cole: ::looking herself over:: I’m good, as far as I can tell.
Imril’s hands hurt from the slide down, reddened by friction but not burned. They were hardly going to complain about that at the moment.
Munro: =/\= Commander Munro to Captain MacKenzie=/\=
MacKenzie: =/\= Go ahead, Commander. =/\=
Munro: =/\= The hangar’s been destroyed, while we were trying to locate a jamming device we appear to have triggered some kind of booby trap. I think it would be safe to assume that there may be other traps =/\=
MacKenzie: =/\= What's the status of your team? =/\=
Munro: =/\= Everyone seems okay, Roy is checking them over now. I might have the location of the jamming device and :: pauses and looks at Imril :: Lt. Imril retrieved some information from the hangar files =/\=
It wasn’t one of the happy sort of pauses.
MacKenzie: =/\= See what else you can uncover, but watch your step. =/\=
Munro: =/\= Understood, Captain. Munro out. =/\=
Commander Munro returned to the group and steadied herself before speaking.
Munro: Let's take a breath :: beat :: Imril, take Cole and head over to the hangar administration building, let them know what's happened here. They'll need to send a crew. Try and find out what might be in those files. Remember the Da'al are not our enemies but someone left that trap.
Bancroft: The question in my mind is, was that meant for anyone who might come poking around? Or specifically for us?
Tarsan: I think it’s some sort of adaptive virus, possibly with limited intelligence. Likely separate to the main network so that it wouldn’t be detected, I got partial readings ::sending the data to the others’ tricorders::
Cole: ::to Munro:: Aye Sir. We’ll get answers. ::to Roy:: I was wondering that myself.
Imril: If not us, then who?
Munro: Tarsan and Bancroft, let's go find that device.
Bancroft: ::to Tarsan:: If things go really well, you won’t learn why they call me ‘Doc Crashcart’.
A lingering section of mangled gantry slammed to the floor, putting a (loud) punctuation mark on this part of the investigation.
Tarsan: That’s not reassuring at all, Doctor…
Cole: ::To Tarsan:: You’ll be with Artemis's two best runners, you’ll be fine. ::to Imril:: After you Lieutenant.
Imril smiled to her, nodded, and started walking.
Natasha followed Imril out of the now disaster zone that was the Hanger. Padd in their hand, they started looking through it, in hopes of finding something that would be worth the more official reprimand that they may well have earned.
((Short Walk Later - Hanger Administration Building - Meranuge IV))
Imril tricorder trilled as they approached the hangar administration building. Following their own order to map the area for later reconstruction. They made a mental note to ask for information on the local air travel lanes to add to that effort.
Cole: I know it’s early, but what do you make of all this?
Imril didn't have any clear answers to give. For they had effectively lost their duel with the hangar computer, and whatever or whoever had decided to blank it of anything pertinent to the investigation. That their risky stay at the computer had failed to achieve anything stung as much as Commander Munro’s rebuke of their staying there.
Imril: Not much to go on yet. For all the extra time I spent mining the hangar computer, all I got was a few extra rolls of hangar security footage. You may be able to make more of it than I can. Spot any questionable changes in patrol routes, which faces pop up where, and so on.
Any activity recorded inside of the Afalqi had been wiped clean before Imril could claim any of it.
Cole: ::looking around:: You notice security seems … thin?
Imril nodded grimly.
Imril: A distinct lack of personnel to interview.
And thus a lack of first-hand witness accounts to compare against the official versions already provided to the investigation teams.
The Security officer stopped looking around, her hand moving toward her phaser. Not wanting to repeat their previous error, Imril slowed and watched her. Ready to move and back her up, or step back as directed.
Imril: And that's not even at the top of my list of things I don't like about this.
They took a look around, trying to pinpoint security cameras and other devices which might be logging the pair’s travels. But their tricorder remained set to purely surface-level scans. So as not to risk triggering any defenses like those that had activated in the hangar.
Cole: Yeah, I got a bad feeling about it too.
Imril: ::Hitching a thumb back towards the ruined hangar:: Roy suggested some sort of automation back there. And Tarsan said that whatever was going on with the gantry, that something was adapting to us. He suggested there might be a construct of some sort controlling it. “Not just a dumb device”.
Cole: Understood. If they need us, they’ll call. Until then, we get answers.
The administration building should have been busier. Any building next to a hangar should have been busier. Especially after said hangar suffered a much -- very loud -- damage as that one had. But no damage control team was rushing forth to prevent further ruin. No medics to render first aid. No security personnel to demand answers from the aliens in their midst.
Cole: I don’t trust this kind of quiet after that kind of noise.
One console was still active. A chair sat askew from the desk beside it. A mug had been abandoned half-full. It spoke of a fast retreat, or a break that someone expected to come back from but never had.
Distracted? Or taken?
Imril: What if the crew didn’t steal the ship? What if it was the other way around?
Nat must have seen something Imril didn’t, because she pulled her phaser. Slowly moving it in a low ready position.
Cole: ::quietly to Imril::There. Far corridor. Movement.
Imril nodded very subtly and raised their tricorder. Played out the appearance of making a more invasive sensor sweep, flashing lights and all. Making a visual distraction for whatever move Nat wanted to make. All the appearance of obliviousness.
Cole: response
They moved to the table with the mug. Every step echoed in the nearly-empty space. Not so much as in the hangar, though.
They put a finger to the cup.
Imril: A little warm. Whoever was drinking this, they haven't been gone terribly long.
Imril: .oO(Which rules out the drinker being kidnapped by the Afalqi.)Oo.
Cole: response
Imril moved next to the console. Peeking toward the corridor as they did so. Finding nothing aside from more emptiness. If anything or anyone still was moving about, they’d have to trust their partner's senses.
Cole: response
Naturally, the console's text was in a Da'al manuscript.
Imril: I can’t read this console, and if I switch it to Federation Standard, the computer will register the command. It, and who knows what else. What I can do without setting anything off is record an image of the screen, and run it though my universal translator via my padd. ::snaps a screengrab:: It doesn't look like the main directory I started with at the hangar. These texts are dedicated to something.
Before they could run the UT program, Imril heard a noise. Something between a scrape and a shuffle, lightning quick. But they couldn’t place its source for all the echoes. They gave Nat a quick look. What had she noticed?
Cole: response
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Lieutenant Imril
Engineering Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240110I12