Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds - It's Learning
Quinn Reynolds
((Research and Development Wing, Gibaria Outpost))
The door to the server room was wide open, which was a gift Quinn hadn't expected from the facility. And because no good thing went unpunished, the entire doorframe sprouted with slime mould blooms in a slick, nauseating bloom of tiny red spheres. The red spread over the walls in undulating patterns that almost gave her a headache, and it was going to be difficult to cross the floor of the server room without stepping on any.
Reynolds: Lovely. Can we pass through, as long as we don't point our tricorders at it?
Spelvan: ::With a hint of a smile,:: We could certainly give it a try.
Valek: The alien flora appears to be in a dormant state. It is therefore possible we may proceed without incident.
Hands raised and palms open, as if trying to deescalate a frantic patient, Spelvan eased himself a step through the door. He put his foot carefully onto a bare spot of deck, and then a soft bubbling sound rippled through the room. The mould moved aside, parting like a crowd in front of a certain broad blond German. Eyebrows raised, she watched as Valek followed, his rifle ready but low, and then she it was her turn.
Reynolds: Any sign of our... entity?
Spelvan: No... I would scan for life-signs but I do not want to spook our new... friends.
Valek moved through the room, a few paces closer to Spelvan, and swept his gaze across their surroundings. The room was... cosy, to put it politely, and a set of computer towers stood proud in the centre. To her surprise, she could hear fans whirring inside. Air cooling? Not usually a requirement for isolinear or bioneural circuitry. One console at the far remained active, and what she assumed was the access point for the server room.
Valek: Admiral, one data module remains active. I detect no plant life in the surrounding area.
Reynolds: I suppose we're due at least one lucky break.
Although "lucky break" didn't feel the correct descriptor. It was an unsettling place to be. The fans whispered at the edge of her hearing, and the slime mould made a discomforting gurgling noise. They rounded a corner, and a red wave of mould appeared to rise to block an open doorway, coating the floor and frame.
Spelvan: Hm. Intriguing.
Valek: Indeed, Ensign. The entity may be located beyond that entry. The flora may be functioning as a defensive mechanism.
Reynolds: I don't know if I should be worried or relieved.
A soft chirp sounded from various devices, a polite notification of new data. Spelvan reached for his PADD, and skimmed the update. Her gaze slid over to the information presented on the screen, and her eyebrows lifted. An artificial quantum singularity powered the facility? Gamoya and her fellow scientists had made some very peculiar choices for the facility's technologies, and Quinn wondered why.
Spelvan: The power plant team seems to be poised to reboot systems on their end, so perhaps we should avoid accessing any consoles until they are completed.
Valek: I concur with Ensign Spelvan. While the system is being restored, we might investigate the adjacent room, if the flora permits entry.
Reynolds: It seems intent on doing the exact opposite.
Spelvan: Response
Valek eased forward a little, his feet coming closer to the spread of slime mould on the floor, and shone his torch inside the dark room. Beyond the doorway, even more of the towers stood like columns within. It was an odd setup, not usually how the Federation designed their computer cores, and she wondered if they'd had to bring in extra computing power with nowhere suitable to put it.
She pulled in a small breath when his torch skimmed over something different. A person. Sat down, back against one of the towers. Struck with an odd sense of déjà vu, she shifted position to get a better look.
Valek: Admiral, Ensign, I detect a single life form within the room. It is seated and breathing at a reduced rate. No other movement is evident.
Spelvan: Response
Valek: Admiral, Ensign, I recommend non-electronic entry and direct evaluation of the life form’s condition. Visual inspection indicates no flora infestation on the subject. Orders Admiral?
Quinn looked at the slime mould pooling on the threshold of the door, clinging to the edges of the door frame, intentionally — if one could assume an intention on the part of red goo — blocking their way forward. Odd, that it had simply let them into this room, only to stop them going further.
Reynolds: I don't think this slime mould wants us going in there. Or it wants us to think it doesn't want us going in there.
Spelvan / Valek: Response
She exhaled a breath, stepping back to look at the situation again. Her gut was telling her that something was wrong; that things were too similar to the situation involving the other scientist. Someone alive, but unable to respond properly. Resting against equipment in a dark room. Circumstances preventing the team from using their tricorders successfully. But all of it just a bit more convincing that they should press forward, that their help was unambiguously required.
Reynolds: Does anyone else feel like this is the same situation in different clothing? It feels like someone trying to iterate a more successful trap.
Spelvan / Valek: Response
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0