Lt. JG Natasha Cole - The Polite Ones Are the Worst
Natasha Schell
((USS Artemis-A, deck 11, Hazardous Materials Lab))
Natasha shifted slightly to one side of the table, giving Sil room to work while keeping Breys, Tarsan, and the box all in the same line of sight. If this thing did something unpleasant, she wanted the room before it happened, not after.
Cole: Gavrin, if you can brace it without stressing the rest of the casing, that buys us options. If not, say so fast and we change our approach.
Tarsan: We’re good Lieutenant, we have the technology we need.
Silveira: That’s why I picked this place.
Roy stepped over to a nearby console and started putting commands into the system, likely safety protocols. Nat smiled, we all protect others in various ways. That’s one of the things she liked about Roy, he always looks for the best way so no one gets hurt, while she often subscribes to the school of preventing others before herself. Though that was something she was starting to reconcile.
Bancroft: Safety protocols are in place.
Breys: Response
She planted one hand lightly on the edge of a nearby workstation, posture deceptively loose. To anyone glancing over, she might have looked like she was simply waiting. In truth, she was tracking hands, tools, exits, and the nearest piece of cover out of habit.
Cole: We’re not opening a container. We’re interrupting someone else’s plan.
Nat was watching everyone work as they each analyzed the strange box in their own individual way. She noticed Vitor tilt his head slightly towards the box before speaking.
Silveira: Not necessarily Lieutenant. It might have already served its purpose.
Bancroft: The local Da’al guard did mention that it hadn’t been there long. A day, perhaps. No more than that. Long enough to stage, connect, stabilize, or conceal something.
Breys: Response
Cole: We’ve made it this far without detonating, contaminating, or vaporizing anything. Let’s protect that streak.
Gavrin nodded, as he started setting up the forcefield emitter.
Tarsan: I think we’ve got it, it’s as braced as we’re going to be able to get it without a full shielding array.
Silveira: Well done Ensign. Carry on then.
Bancroft: I’ll be a second set of eyes for you, Gavrin.
Cole: Good. Quiet hands, clear heads, and no guessing.
Breys: Response
Nat noticed as Vitor narrowed his eyes, clearly he was mulling over something..
Silveira: Just out of curiosity does it still read any power? It was attached to a hybridized drive?
Bancroft: There is an internal power source, yes. Rapidly depleting. Battery backup, perhaps, though it isn't behaving like one that merely keeps the lid shut. It’s maintaining something.
Cole: That means opening it wrong doesn’t just damage the container. It could destroy the point of the container.
oO Grandpa Dorian used to say the dangerous part of a machine was rarely the part with teeth. It was the part quietly doing exactly what it had been built to do. Oo
Tarsan/Breys: Response
Silveira: I wonder what is it’s function.
Bancroft: My first instinct would be preservation. My second would be concealment. Given today’s general theme, I hesitate to develop a third.
Nat watched as Roy focused and made adjustments.
Bancroft: It may be worth having an external source ready before we finish opening it. If the internal cell collapses while the contents are still depending on it, we may lose whatever state it is preserving. Or whatever trace was left behind when the state was interrupted.
Cole: Then we do it in sequence. External power ready first, before the next seal.
Natasha collected the external power unit from the nearby tray and held it out toward Tarsan, grip firm, expression unreadable.
Cole: Here. If this thing starts dying, I’d rather we’reready before it gets problematic.
Tarsan/Breys: Response
Vitor arched an eyebrow and leaned forward as did Roy.
Silveira: Curious…
Bancroft: Alright, that is one seal down. ::patting himself down once, clinically:: All major appendages accounted for. How many more?
Cole: However many it is, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.
Tarsan/Breys/Silveira: Response
Bancroft: Everything looks stable on my end. Breys? Tarsan? Nat?
Cole: Looks stable enough to continue. Not stable enough to get comfortable.
Tarsan/Breys/Silveira: Response
A small alert flashed on Roy’s console, briefly washing his face in crimson light.
Bancroft: Internal power is reaching critical depletion. Whatever it’s holding together, hiding, or remembering, it’s running out of time. Is the backup supply ready?
Cole: Backup first. Then the next seal. Let's not let the mysterious box make the decisions.
Tarsan/Breys/Silveira/Bancroft: Response
A faint change in pitch came from somewhere inside the box, soft enough to miss if you were listening only for the loud kind of dangers.
Cole: Wait. Something in there just shifted.
Her head angled toward the casing and she lifted one hand in a small, immediate signal for stillness, eyes narrowing on the seam nearest the sound.
Tarsan/Breys/Silveira/Bancroft: Response
Cole: Grandpa Dorian used to say the worst machines were the polite ones. The ones that kept working right up until they decided not to. This feels like one of those.
She glanced once around the table, making sure everyone had actually stopped moving before she looked back to the box.
Tarsan/Breys/Silveira/Bancroft: Response
Tags/TBC
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Lt. JG Natasha Cole
Security Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205NC4