Lt. Cmdr Stros - 50% Irritation = Grumpy
Nathan Richards
((Warehouse somewhere in Oparis, Uwe II))
((OOC: All cut tags can be found in Varati’s last sim Green or Green?))
Moving towards a pile of crates, Stros grabbed onto one and pulled it forward. The wooden box groaned as it drug across the floor before coming to a rest between Stros and the others. It was roughly ‘man sized’, with what appeared to be a few holes already bore within the wooden slats that could be used for air. The last thing they needed was their Commanding Officer passing do to oxygen deprivation.
Stros: If you are indeed serious about the box scenario, might I recommend this one?
Moore: Seems big enough—and look, holes so you can breathe!
Lieutenant Moore saw the practicality in Stros’ choice of crate, while Ensign Varati giggled. He raised an eyebrow in slight confusion.
Varati: We really shouldn’t waste time on nonsense, but rather look for an appropriate solution.
Stros was unsure what the Ensign meant. Commander Ukinix had suggested a box, and Stros had found a box. How was that solution nonsense?
Ukinix: Response
Stros: And I am sure I may be able to find a crank. ::Smirking:: I think I am a fan of the ‘Wil-In-A-Box’ Idea.
Now that, that was nonsense.
Moore: Alternative idea. We could go with a trash can, and one of us could pretend to be a janitor. It actually might be a better cover than the three of us pushing a random box around.
Another very solid solution. It may appear they are sanitary workers simply looking to keep the area clean.
Varati: What on earth has gotten into you? Have you all been secretly snacking on the overripe and fermenting fruits of Elarrapal?
Again, Stros just could not see the err in the solutions that they had come up with. Sure, there had been a bit of silliness in Stros’ suggestion of creating a ‘Wil-In-The-Box’, but they held merit.
Varati: … but the fruits gave me an idea!
If it was an idea from the Orion Ensign, it was going to go one of two ways. Stros was legitimately curious which direction it would most certainly go.
Stros: Do continue…
Ukinix: Response
Moore: Granted, you might not be grouchy enough for the trash can, sir.
There was an air of entendre to the Lieutenant's words that Stros couldn’t quite grasp.
Varati: Please help me… these all seem to be household items… I’m looking for something specific…
With a raised eyebrow, Stros waited to hear exactly what the Ensign was looking for, but received no answer.
Stros: It would be helpful to know exactly what you are looking for, Ensign. We may be better able to assist with the information.
Ukinix: Response
Moore: ::frowning a little bit:: I am not detecting them. I’ve tried a few different scan frequencies, even trying to ping their comms via subspace—nothing.
Ah, yes they were scanning for Commander Hopper’s team. Stros had almost forgotten with the discussion of boxes and cans.
Varati: Ha! That was prank number 1, number 2 follows immediately…
Looking back over at Varati, Stros was even more confused. What was this talk about pranks? The Ensign had brought out what appeared to be some glass bottles and was once again rummaging within the stores of the warehouse.
Varati: The warehouse is a true blessing, by the Thousand Gods! Perhaps one of the gentlemen would like to help me? ::looks at Wil:: We have copper scraps here – and there was wine in the bottles? Well, definitely acetic acid now.
Stros: I, uh, am not following, Ensign. ::Looking back to Moore, the matter at hand still present:: Have any of your scans yielded any sort of result, Lieutenant?
Ukinix: Response
Moore: There must be some sort of interference. If we brought back the Indy, I bet we could punch through it—but my tricorder doesn’t have the power.
Unfortunate, really. Bringing the Independence back could threaten their mission if the Uwezo happen to detect it in orbit. They were stuck with the equipment the held on their person for the moment.
Varati: ::still to Wil:: So we make Verdigris Cu(CH3COOO)2 from acetic acid (CH3COOH) and copper (Cu). There’s even a bit of verdigris on the copper pipes, which makes our work easier. Yes, the blue-green pigments, with a little cream, create a green makeup that will become even more intense over time. But now we don’t have a second to lose! ::pause, to Stros and Moore:: While I’m getting Wil, er, Commander Ukinix ready to go out, could you look for Robin’s emergency signal? Surely it’s easier to receive from here than the Indy?
It appeared that during her rummaging, Ensign Varati hadn’t heard that Lieutenant Moore wasn’t able to get any sort of reading on the Commander’s location. The interference as well as the Tricorder’s limited power made scanning difficult. In this situation, receiving the emergency signal was more difficult on the planet than it was from orbit. Not to mention the issues that may arise from using Copper Verdigris as a coloring agent.
Stros: Ensign, you are aware that using Verdigris on human skin can cause rather troublesome irritation, yes? ::Looking towards Wil:: I am unsure of the effects on Betazoid skin. Perhaps a 50/50 match to our 50/50 Commander. ::Thoughtfully:: What is half of irritated? Grumpy? ::Looking to Kaito:: Would he be sufficiently grumpy for the trash can then?
A rhetorical question. Simply to add to the nonsense.
Ukinix: Response
Moore: Surely there has to be someone who can help us. What if we try to make contact with that Elarrapal person again? Maybe she has a range of contacts we can use to gather information on any strange happenings – or maybe sightings of the team?
The last they had seen of Elarrapal, she had been located on another branch. They had no way of contacting her without giving themselves away. She was almost certainly out of the question, and out of reach.
Varati: Elarrapal will surely help us! She has met us and knows that we are not working against her. And she’ll know what game Norsel is playing and where we can find him.
Stros: That leaves the difficulty of finding Elarrapal. Or finding a way to communicate with her in the very least.
Ukinix: Response
Stros wasn’t even sure if the Uwezo had any form of communication beyond using the trees themselves. He hadn’t observed anything, at least.
Varati: ::to Ukinix:: Now please sit still and close your eyes! The mask is supposed to look somewhat real. Well, at least from a distance, until it darkens. ::pause:: I’m ready when you are.
Taking a step forward, Stros felt he should reiterate the possibility of severe discomfort to the Commander.
Stros: I must reiterate the possibility of severe discomfort and skin irritation with the Verdigris pigment, Commander. I would advise against this course of action.
Ukinix/Moore: Response
Before a decision could be made, there was a trill from someone’s tricorder. One could have said, “Saved by the bell?”
Varati: Hmpff! What’s this now? I thought the Indy was out of reach?
Stros: The Independence is indeed out of reach. We are not receiving communication. It was a tricorder.
Ukinix/Moore: Response
Pulling his own Tricorder from the pocket within his tunic, Stros flipped it open and peered at the screen within.
Varati: Well, I didn’t receive anything… But one of our devices responded to a signal. Hopefully not a trap?! But we definitely need to finish the disguise first. We can still take the box with us as camouflage…
Stros looked towards Commander Ukinix with a raised eyebrow. He still felt the pigmented green cream was not a safe course of action.
Stros: My tricorder shows no notifications.
Moore/Ukinix: Response
Returning his tricorder to his tunic, Stros stood a little straighter as he addressed the group.
Stros: I must mention the fact that the longer we stand within this warehouse and debate the use of camouflage, the harder it may become to find Commander Hopper and her team.
Ukinix/Moore/Varati: Response
Stros: ::To Wil:: I suggest you make a decision Commander. Keep in mind my advice.
Ukinix/Moore/Varati: Response
Stros: Very well, Commander. Let us proceed.
Ukinix/Moore/Varati: Response
TAGS/TBC…
Lieutenant Commander Stros
Chief of Operations/Second Officer
Amity Outpost
A239905NR1