LCDR Aine Sherlock - The Secret Stash

[Aine Sherlock]

(( Corridor Outside the Operations Center, Deck 7, USS Octavia E. Butler ))

Aine loved the new computer. LOVED. It made things so much easier. And who couldn't love that?

Sherlock: The computer is a good example. Some of the hardware is classified and only a few on the ship are even allowed to look at it and repair it. How much faster than the last bio-isolinear systems? Classified ::beat:: but it's a lot. And its predictive simulations are amazing. I had it run  one and it did it twenty-five hundred times in four minutes.

Aine really did like the new computer. It cut planning and simulated testing in half. She hoped to soon use the training holodeck in Security to run training sims using those predictive algorithms , if she could find the time. See if it could give her more of a challenge than the simulations she used to have to manually render.

Richards: Yeah. She seems powerful.

Sherlock: Leaves little room for error, that's for sure. We haven't had to use it in battle yet, but I'm guessing it'll give us quite the edge with maneuvering and firing solutions.

Richards: It’s just a tiny bit Ironic, integrating the Borg technology.

Sherlock: Maybe. But it's not like we're just straight up installing their tech. So not like they can just plug in and take over. oO Well... Oo

Aine stopped when she realized her words and thoughts weren't the same. It was only a year ago that their sister ship, the Stargazer, had exactly that happen to it.

Richards: ::robotic voice:: Integration is futile.

Aine raised an eyebrow, but followed it up with a slight grin.

Richards: Probably a good thing all of Starfleet wasn’t assimilated. We do have an apparent knack for integration.

Sherlock: It's all just adaptability. And really, that's been the key to humanity's survival.

Richards: Hah. It’s a little bit creepy, we might just be better at it than them.

As the turbolift came to a stop at Deck 8 and the door swished open, she turned to Richards and addressed him with a semi-serious tone.

Sherlock: Funny thing is, they force. But we, we convince.

Richards: response

She gave him a quick wink to indicate she was joking, kinda, before stepping out of the turbolift and setting off for The Writer's Room. Her pace was deliberate. She wasn't so much excited, but there were few times one could consider drinking while on duty appropriate. And showing another officer around the ship, that was one. Another would be while hiding in one's office trying to avoid Ensigns.

(( The Writer's Room, Deck 8, USS Octavia E. Butler ))

She quickly led the way to the bar where the very purple Kazleti bartender was waiting.

Sherlock: Barkeep, ale. Of the Romulan kind for me. And... ::gesturing to Richards::

Richards: response

Koryan: response

LCDR Aine Sherlock

Chief of Security

U.S.S. Octavia E. Butler

R239712AS0