Lieutenant JG Amelia Semara - Take a Number

[Max]

((Substation Mu - Alpha Trionus II, Detention Facility 03949, "The Crack" ))

The planet certainly made an impression up close.  Even enclosed in the security monitoring substation, the way the river of molten rock flowed and splashed far below the window's view gave the impression of a living thing.  The whole of the planet's crust was still in its tempestuous, acne-ridden years.

Amelia studied the crablike movements of a trio of Tholians closer to the substation's window, ambling on their prison-yard of sorts.  To an ecologist trained primarily in carbon life, it was an unnatural motion.  What should have been bones elongated and contracted piston-like as rotor-joins turned, keeping the main body a perfectly steady height over the ground.  A strange far-off RRrre-EE pure tone like glass against glass scraped filtered through the window and into her jaw.  Tholian speech?

Maybe an expert could have differentiated the individuals in the group below from each other, but distinguishing them in a casual observation seemed hopeless.

Semara: :: Quietly. :: Cervadonzene, Cervadonzene... Wherefore art thou, Cervadonzene?  :: A sigh, then turning back to the doctor. ::  I guess our first trick is seein' if we can find him.  If this were an ecological survey, I'd use tags and trackers to identify individuals and follow 'em.  :: Motioning to the security console. :: Think we'll get lucky they do somethin' similar?

Melville-Kilpatrick: There's no way they don't keep track of who is who. There has to be something here.

Amelia's gaze flicked to the looming Brikar head guard, but he made no note of the doctor's movements over to the security console.  Odds were good he was lost in thought, looking forward to the end of his rotation here and seeing his girl back home again.

With a little dance-like click of her boots together, Amelia hurried to the console behind the ensign.

Melville-Kilpatrick: Check out these dots. I'd say that's a tag if I've ever seen one.

She peered around his shoulder.  Amelia was more used to seeing little dots moving around superimposed on an overhead terrain map in the context of tracking migrating animals or studying hunting behavior in the wild.  In fact, it was eerily similar.

Semara: :: Pensively. :: Uh-huh. I'd say so, too. :: Beat :: Looks like a real-time trackin' system.  Good for knowin' where everyone's at...  What else you got?

Melville-Kilpatrick: Well, I'm not exactly sure. ::looking closer:: there's different colours, but that could mean anything. There's probably a legend somewhere.

She reached a finger out and pressed the button labeled "Display Options", then the button labeled "Legend", and a helpful little guide popped up on the screen.  A guard looked over at the sound of beeps, and immediately looked away again when Amelia shot him a brilliant little smile.  The smile slid sideways into a smirk towards the doctor.

Semara: Seem's you're right again, doctor.

A swirl of pastel sprinkles on the map started to take on meaning.  The marmalade pips were Tholians, the mint Sheliak.  Guards, staff, drones, visitors...  All neatly labeled into categories by the internal sensor system, but no sign of names for any of the inmates...

Melville-Kilpatrick: ::pointing:: Do these numbers mean anything to you?

She took a moment parsing one, then the next, then a third...

Semara: Huh.  That one's my momma's birthday.

A soft chuckle escaped.  Nope.  They meant nothing.

Melville-Kilpatrick: Response

Semara: Okay, let's say they ain't got any meanin'.  Enemies or not, Federation law demands we still treat 'em civilized... That means medical care...  Which means medical records...

Amelia did the Very Betazoid thing of giving the not-Betazoid doctor a glittering little glance full of meaning, figuring he'd pick up on where she was headed with the line of thought.  Medical records would have to be tied to some distinguishing identifier... like the numbers they were staring at, if they were lucky.

Melville-Kilpatrick: Response

Her chin lifted and the corners of her eyes creased at the thought of a way to make sure any further prying eyes from guards stay firmly out of their business.

Semara: How'd you like to perform a regulatory health and wellness audit on the prisoner population with me, doctor?

Melville-Kilpatrick: Response

Semara: Sheliak and Tholian physiology ain't a great match.  They'd have to compromise on a place to meet for long enough to talk regularly.  :: Beat :: I'm thinkin' we might find a Tholian with a touch a' frostbite, or a Sheliak that's got pneumostome problems from the heat.

Small problems that would be easy to explain by the prisoner... Something the prison physician would never report because they seemed minor.  Maybe there would be nothing, but if there was?

Melville-Kilpatrick: Response

Tag / TBC...

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Lieutenant Junior Grade Amelia Magnolia Semara

Science Officer - Special Projects

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

A239710MA0