MSNPC D'Hariv
Chris Taylor
((Medlab, Deck 5, Afalqi))
D’Hariv walked into the medlab to find it all but deserted. The patients all turned out. A lone medtech there, monitoring the systems which had been keeping Falon alive. They were on standby mode; No one wanted them shut down entirely until Falon’s survival without them was assured.
Ligee: There you are!
D’Hariv: I wasn’t expecting to come back to an empty room.
Or one pair of eyes that would have nothing better to do than watch her.
Ligee: Well if you’d answer your com-pin… ::Frustrated groan:: Nurine ordered the worst cases sent down to Deck 8. Belek and Neruy were cleared for return to duty. May the Writings guide them, because I’ve done all I can.
The thought of exhausted pilots trying to use their Shu’Da’al ability did not strike D’Hariv with much confidence in the outcome of the present standoff.
D’Hariv: ::Shaking her head:: They’ll do themselves a mischief on the Bridge, trying to fly the ship in their condition.
The wrinkle-browed look the Da’al healer gave D’Hariv reminded her that ‘do a mischief’ was not a Da’al turn of phrase.
D’Hariv: Oh. Yes. It’s a Federation expression. I used to read up on how to talk to them, back when I thought the government was going to show sense enough to seek better ties with them after the disaster.
She very pointedly did not say whose government. Or which disaster.
But she wasn’t there to discuss either people’s recent history, Da’al or Romulan. She was there to ensure a future more to her liking. In the side office, where she kept a part of her personal supplies, was a genetic stabilizer. A more advanced version than the one she’d shared with her fellow infiltrator. It should be just about done 'cooking'. She’d need it in order to--
Female Voice: =/\= Brace! =/\=
Years-old training from her time in the Imperial Navy took over, and D’Hariv pressed herself against the doorframe. Everything rumbled, and her boots temporarily lost touch with the floor. But when the impact was over, she landed on her feet. Rigee wasn’t so lucky, he went tumbling across the floor. D’Hariv didn’t waste time leaping over him to get to the office. She tapped her personal code into the incubator, claimed the needed drug, and hid it under her tunic for later use. Soon, she promised herself. Then, a fresh empty hypo to deliver it with along with her medkit.
Next, she turned to her office computer. The one she’d used to monitor the data collected by the sensors that she and Rithaak had hidden throughout the ship. She’d already activated a modified form of the targeted-data deletion virus to remove any evidence of her covert activities aboard the Afalqi. She pulled up a readout of the ship’s damage control assessment. That the ship had just been attacked by the Nascaik was obvious, but where they had hit presented a problem.
Female Voice: .oO(Ta’krenn! The escape pods in this whole section are inoperable! Here, Deck Four, this whole side of Deck Six!)Oo.
What use were escape pods that no ship could see or target if you couldn't get any of them to launch?
Ligee stumbled himself against the wall. A bruise was already forming on the left side of his face, a sickly purple blush.
Ligee: Can’t you hear the alert?! We’re at battlestations! We have to get down to Medbay on Deck Eight NOW!
D’Hariv turned from him back to the monitor to confirm something. Yes, there were still viable escape pods on Deck Eight. Each of them already programmed to spit out iterations of the virus which would ensure her safe transport to less hostile reaches of this system.
D’Hariv: Of course. I’ll follow you. You can activate the transtube for us.
The Da’al turned and started trotting out of the lab, a slight limp destabilizing his gait.
D’Hariv stared at his back for a moment, and claimed another hypo from the counter.
TBC
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MSNPC D’Hariv
Posing as ???
As Written by
Lieutenant Imril
Engineering Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240110I12