Lt. JG Natasha Cole - The Wrong Kind of Quiet
Natasha Schell
((The Afalqi Project Hangar 1659 - Meranuge IV))
She looked between Munro and Bancroft, letting a hint of concern show as she settled on Bancroft. She was sure he’d picked it up too, something more was hitting Commander Munro. Ava had stepped off to the side as she tapped her combadge
Imril: Response
Bancroft: ::lightly:: Alright, are any of you dead? Barring that, any complaints? ::holding a finger up at Nat:: physical complaints.
She shot Roy a look, under other circumstances she absolutely would have made some kind of witty remark, or teased him about something or other, but definitely not after that dressing down they all just received.
Tarsan: All good, Doctor. Was far enough away ::taking a deep breath:: way too close though. Waaaaaay too close.
Cole: ::looking herself over:: I’m good, as far as I can tell.
Imril: Response
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 =/\=
MacKenzie: =/\= See what else you can uncover, but watch your step. =/\=
Munro: =/\= Understood, Captain. Munro out. =/\=
Commander Munro returned to the group after her brief conversation with Captain MacKenzie. She had steadied herself, but Nat had been known to do that when she was carrying more then she let on. She suspected she might have an idea as to what might be additionally weighing on Commander Munro, and made a mental note to have that conversation in private.
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: Response
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’.
As they stood there a section of mangled gantry finally gave way to gravity's embrace, slamming into the hangar floor with a sharp, echoing clang.
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: Response
Natasha followed Imril out of the now disaster zone that was the Hanger, as the duo made their way towards the Administration building. They need to find answers and fast before more people found themselves in danger. That thought hung at her very core.
((Short Walk Later - Hanger Administration Building - Meranuge IV))
As they approached the hangar administration building, Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted again. One thought kept returning with unpleasant persistence: they were being watched.
Cole: I know it’s early, but what do you make of all this?
Imril: Response
Cole: ::looking around:: You notice security seems … thin?
Imril: Response
She stopped looking around, confirming she hadn’t seen anyone from the Da'al security team since they had left the hanger. Her hand drifted instinctively toward her phaser.
Cole: Yeah, I got a bad feeling about it too.
Nat’s head snapped toward the sound before she could stop it. Phaser fire. Then, a few seconds later, an explosion that rolled through the air hard enough to make her pulse kick. Once, she might have run toward it without thinking. Now she held herself still and listened, forcing instinct to wait for information instead of letting panic dress itself up as action.
Imril: Response
Cole: Understood. If they need us, they’ll call. Until then, we get answers.
Imril: Response
The administration building should have been busier.
After a collapse like that, after the noise they had all just heard, someone should have been running toward the hangar, shouting into a comm, asking questions, doing anything that looked like an ordinary alarm. Instead, the corridor ahead of them was lit, climate-controlled, and almost unnaturally still.
Cole: I don’t trust this kind of quiet after that kind of noise.
Natasha’s eyes moved quickly across the reception area. One console was still active. A chair sat askew from the desk beside it. A mug had been abandoned half-full. None of it looked dramatic, which is what made it interesting. Someone had been here recently.
Imril: Response
A flicker of movement crossed the far corridor just beyond the admin bullpen, not enough for certainty, but enough to pull Natasha’s attention. She pulled her phaser slowly and held it in a low ready position.
Cole: ::quietly to Imril::There. Far corridor. Movement.
Imril: Response
Tags/TBC
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Lt. JG Natasha Cole
Security Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205NC4