1stLt Samuel Woolheater - Some Good News
Radamio
(( Admin / Research Annex – Pedestrian Bridge – Central Clinic – Argrathi Capital ))
Woolheater, metal pipe in hand, like someone invited to the last ever baseball game, watched their six. Making sure that if the people suffering from the rage broke through the barriers, they would not get past him. Commander T’Korva led the way and dropped down to covered pedestrian bridge between the Central Clinic and the Administrative and Research Annex. The Engineer, Lieutenant Lahl, was up next to the bridge.
Lahl: Oh my! Alright…guess we’re doing parkour.
Woolheater: T’Korva is right below you. Just go slow. You got this Lieutenant.
Samuel watched as Kimonzi clambered down and held onto the edge of the roof before dropping down. As she came down to a sudden stop in T’Korva’s arms. He took another look back at the roof and no Ragers had breached. He was sure that if they tried, they could very easily breach. He paused for a moment and filed that data point for later He had to leave the pipe weapon on the roof. He couldn’t carry it with him, it was too unwieldy and he could not simply drop it to the streets below. It could hit someone who wasn’t a Rager.
T’Korva: It looks like no ragers on top of the bridge, but we will need to assess the other side ::looking towards the far end near the far building:: It is only a few meters, but move with expediency and caution.
He climbed down to the ledge and positioned himself above the hexagonal shaped pedestrian bridge. He let go and landed on his feet.
T’Korva: Scan the other side of the windows, confirm whatever you can about the threats within. ::she took out her d’k Tahg and prepared to use the butt to break the window::
Lahl: I think we’re clear Commander.
Woolheater: One sure way to find out.
T’Korva: Thank you. ::breaking the window with the butt of her weapon::
The shattered “glass” was very interesting. Instead of shards, the “glass” shattered and turned into very fine grains of sand. And it seemed to be as harmless as it fell like dust to the streets below. Completely harmless and solid glass a moment before.
Lahl: Well, that’s good news.
Woolheater: That…was neat!
They each got inside the pedestrian bridge and there were no signs of patients here. Well or unwell. This looked to be an office setting or an Administrative Offices area.
T’Korva: First we find a way to communicate with the others on the ground. It seems this building has more power than the other, we need to find some type of communications panel. Lieutenant Lahl, you will find a way to communicate with the Sower or other ground teams. First Lieutenant Woolheater, you will secure this floor and provision us hand weapons. I will set up barriers should we need to fortify this position.
Lahl: Aye sir.
Woolheater: On it.
Kimonzi had the tricorder, the good one, so Sam did his job the old fashioned way. He started with the corners when they reached the end of the bridge and entered a reception area. He checked doors by listening first. He was already building a mental map. They all had power. They all were in good working order. Clean, as if this area was being used. The emergency lights were on, some chairs had been overturned…they had abandoned this area quickly.
Lahl: Alright, I’m in. Let’s have a look see to reach out and get in contact with someone.
He found half-finished drinks on desks, evacuation notices still displayed on terminal screens. There was a blood smear near a doorway that went down a corridor. “RESEARCH ANNEX” was written in Argrathi with office numbers.
Woolheater: There’s a secure area here...locked. ::beat as Sam forced the locked door open by brute force:: Unlocked now. OK. We’re in.
It was an employee locker room. He thought it was like an old-time coat closet. Lab coats were still hung here, outer garments, emergency prepper tools and food packs, some needed supplies and water. He took three bottles and handed water to his fellow teammates.
T’Korva: Response
Lahl: Yep, I’ve found some sort of communication program. Let me see who I can reach with it. ::she typed:: =/\= Lieutenant Lahl to Starfleet Personnel on the Ground, can you read me? =/\=
Other Ground Team: Response?
Woolheater: ::swallows the water in about 10 seconds:: I thought I heard something?
T’Korva: Response
Lahl looked at her screen to check.
Lahl: Still waiting sir.
T’Korva: Response
Woolheater drank another water bottle from the emergency supplies. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was. He also noticed that his uniform had white, caked salt on it. Salt he had sweat out onto his uniform. He took a better look at the “coat closet”. The room wasn’t large. Utility storage by the look of it. Shelving. Crates. Emergency lighting running low amber across the walls. Woolheater swept the area with his eyes slowly left to right as he began to search the room. The air smelled wrong. Not decay exactly. And not the smell of death either. More like burned circuitry. Dust. Sweat. Like people had been here recently and left in a hurry. Sam crouched beside one of the containers near the back wall. White stenciling across the side: MEDICAL RELIEF SUPPLIES ARGRATHA DISTRICT DISPERSAL PROGRAM. He stared at it for a beat.
Woolheater: …Sure.
Lahl/T’Korva: Response?
The lid wasn’t even locked. He was about to open the lid when he froze. Silence. Then somewhere distant in the building came the muffled shriek of a rager followed by others answering it through ducts and stairwells like wolves calling through canyon walls. Sam waited another few seconds. Nothing coming. He lifted the lid. Not medical supplies. Inside sat three Starfleet compression rifles wrapped in gray thermal fabric. Older generation but maintained. Beneath them were sealed power packs, tactical harnesses, medkits, ration bars and vacuum-packed field ponchos. Sam stared at the contents without expression. Then he spotted the serial numbers. They were filed off.
oO Well now. Oo
He opened the second crate. More weapons. Phaser pistols. Two collapsible riot shields. Spare cells. Emergency beacon equipment. One crate still carried a faded Starfleet quartermaster inventory label underneath newer shipping markings someone had tried to paint over. This wasn’t scavenging. This was organized. Pre-positioned. He exhaled once through his nose.
Woolheater: Commander? I think you’ll want to see this sir?
Lahl/T’Korva: Response?
Woolheater: These are old. Coupl'a years is my guess? Half-charged. Sir? Could be old Dominion War surplus? Somebody staged these here. Somebody might be coming back.
Lahl/T’Korva: Response?
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1stLt Samuel Woolheater, SFMC
Sniper / Infantry Officer
2nd Platoon, Precision Fires & Recon
USS Octavia E. Butler (NCC-82850)
O240111SW4