Lieutenant JG Amelia Semara - Let's Get Cracking

[Max]

(( OOC: I know the conference scene is still open, but I didn't want to let the start of this scene fall further behind. ))

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

The unfamiliarity of the strange, streaking sensation of feeling her own telepathic echo stretching out into disjoint separation, then folding back into itself was a curious reminder that she'd somehow managed to be promoted before getting an away team assignment on the Khitomer.  Back when she was collecting samples and cataloguing population counts for the ecological survey, the ethereal quality of the transporter's momentary telepathic sensory effect was so routine as to go almost unnoticed.  Feeling it now was a surprise...  A loss.  Amelia had already grown accustomed to feeling Tori nearby, even if the girl's aura was as unstable as the surface of the planet she now stood on.

Outside the slightly angled transparent aluminum wall the two officers beamed down next to, the jagged canyon presented a rock-climber's dream up to the lip of the valley high above and a picturesque dotted starscape hanging over it.  Or it would be a climber's dream if it weren't for the intense heat rising from the magma riverbed down below.  To demonstrate the temperature, a few unprotected Tholians skittered about on a flat, freckled-rock surface maybe a hundred meters above the valley's molten bottom - a solid ten meters underneath the sub-station's watchful gaze.  A thoughtful open-air yard for the prisoners of war, made possible by the natural geology of this place.

Inside, an equally climbable-looking Brikar guard stared at the newcomers with rose quartz eyes, pale against his obsidian skin.

Brikar: =/\= We have them. =/\=

Technician: =/\= Acknowledged, Khitomer out. =/\=

The first inhale brought with it notes traces of sulfides from the rock walls, the chill heat of a thermostat turned too low to combat the heat, and the thirsty desiccation of a planet that held its scarce moisture in the sky above.  Amelia smiled anyway.  Who didn't love away missions?  Then she curtsied.

Semara: Hi, I'm Lieutenant Junior -

Brikar: Don't care.

Semara: :: Smile faltering. :: Well I never - I just...

Brikar: Still don't care.  :: Handing a PADD. :: Facility map and rules. :: Pointing to a large set of control panels :: Security monitors and main controls for the Tholian levels.  :: Pointing to a console :: Records access.  :: Another stony hand wave. :: Environmental.  :: Pointing to the right door :: To the storage rooms, break room, and the upper facility.  :: Pointing to the left door, heavy exo-suits next to it. :: That's outside. :: Beat, folding his arms. :: Tour complete.

Semara: :: Smiling again. :: How very kind of you.

The stony cleavage in Brikar's features slipped against each other minutely, but Amelia could swear she almost felt him come out of his doldrum-induced total dissociation from his bodily form at seeing what was probably the first proper smile he'd received in months.  Still, she hypothesized that was probably the absolute best she was going to get out of the encounter, and turned to her doctor companion, a cockeyed smile still on her lips.

Semara: Well then.  Welcome to Alpha Trionus II, I s'pose.  The basalt flows are particularly lovely this time of year, I hear.

Melville-Kilpatrick: Response

In the span of a quick inspection of the control room, Amelia spied another pair of guards monitoring various feeds.  All three were equipped with sidearms... Though something made her suspect they were worn more for the illusion of competence and safety when considering how tough Tholian carapaces were.

On the far end of the substation's large main room, a small repair space was set up with some kind of security drone laying on the table with its electronics flayed open.  The casing looked all off - it took a moment to realize the stone and the lava flows below casted a muddy orange haze of light onto everything in the large space.

Semara: So, the Tholian.  How do we "figure him out?"

Those were the Captain's orders.  Helpful.  They didn't even have a way of identifying him.

Melville-Kilpatrick: Response

Amelia studied the crablike movements of a trio of Tholians several stories below 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: Response

Tag / TBC... 

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Lieutenant Junior Grade Amelia Magnolia Semara

Science Officer - Special Projects

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

A239710MA0