PNPC Ensign Dunamis - Shrunken Discoveries (McLaren/Talas/Anyone not shrunk)
Samuel Chin
((Ballroom C-10, Starbase 118))
The Kelpien was on guard and in problem solving mode. You could see it in the straightness of his posture, the tenseness that crept in at the edges of his craggy features and the cool silence in which he walked. The hallway outside the ballroom was quiet. Far, far too quiet. When he’d left just fifteen minutes ago the corridor had been bustling, positively filled with the trace amounts of noise that drifted under the doors; the bustle and chatter of all within. Where that had been now reigned an uncomfortable quiet; utterly devoid of any form of other sound save the ambient hum of the starbase’s inner workings.
Yes, something was most surely wrong. The silver-haired woman with her foot in the door and the Bajoran standing next to her looked suitably upset, that was quite definite.
Talas: Commander, are you okay?
Dune: Pardon me. Is something wrong? ::Yes, of course there was, you dolt, he thought to himself. Why else would this hallways be utterly devoid of most sound and activity when it hadn’t been twenty minutes ago?::
McLaren: You didnt happen to see everyone leave the ball room in the last 10 minutes, did you?
Talas: No one else left when I did, it was full not two minutes ago.
McLaren: ?
Talas: Computer locate Commander DeVeau
Computer: Commander DeVeau is not onboard.
Talas: Well that’s concerning
McLaren: ?
Concerning indeed, he thought to himself. The galagoers could not have simply vanished into thin air in the span of fifteen minutes. No abnormalities of late, no other anomalous phenomena that might explain this – the circumstances in front of him reeked of foul play and he didn’t like them one bit.
Dune: Computer. When did commander DeVeau leave the starbase?
Computer: As of ten minutes ago.
McLaren/Talas: ?
Anyone not shrunk: ?
The Kelpien swore under his breath. Five minutes. Three hundred seconds and he could have prevented this disappearance. Damn it. There was no time to wallow in self pity over what he had not done, though. What did matter in the here and now was what could be done, starting with piecing together the pieces of this enigma.
Dune: Perhaps we ought to have a look inside first and foremost. I will call a security team to the area and perform an inspection.
McLaren/Talas: ?
Anyone not shrunk: ?
Good. They were in agreement on that.
Dune: =/\= “Ensign Dunamis to security. Please send a team to my location at once and conduct a sweep of the perimeter, checking for any suspicious activity. Please also review security sensor footage from the past half an hour in the vicinity of and inside ballroom C-10 and report any unusual or suspicious activity found.”
With that taken care of, a hand seized the door handle and pushed it open. The tables were empty. No patrons. No people. Just covered tables, plates of food and drink sitting in varying degrees of eaten-ness upon the surface. It was as if all the partygoers had just up and gone. He did not like that, not one bit.
McLaren/Talas: ?
Anyone not shrunk: ?
He did as told, walking around the tables and getting on his hands and knees where possible, inspecting every touchable inch. What could have happened to simply empty the ballroom of people? It wasn’t until he lifted the tablecloth to inspect the seat of one of the chairs that he got an answer, albeit a partial one. It shocked him absolutely no less, however, golden eyes widening in a mixture of horror and amazement.
Dune: Dear goodness gracious- ::glancing up from the floor:: Commander? Here. You need to see this.
McLaren/Talas: ?
Anyone not shrunk: ?
Carefully, gingerly, he folded the corner of the tablecloth up and over – revealing the sleeping form of a red-haired human woman in a blue cocktail dress soundly asleep on the seat.
She couldn’t have been more than an inch tall.
But that wasn’t possible. Right?
Ensign Dunamis
Tactical Officer
as simmed by
Ensign Drevas Matthel
Security Officer
Starbase 118 - USS Narendra
O239706DM0