Ensign T’Fearne - Uniform Not Required
Teayl Thorn
((1800 hrs - Turbolift, Deck 3, Starboard Catamaran, USS Ronin, Orbiting PSIV))
T’Fearne stood at parade rest, hands folded neatly behind her back, the calm in the centre of the storm as the turbolift hummed its way through the Ronin’s internal arteries. Around her, light flickered in pulses across brushed metal as the car darted laterally through the primary hull and then horizontally up through the starboard catamaran lift shaft. The sensation of motion was so smooth it barely registered…until the delay.
The pressure in her sensitive pointed ears told her the lift had slowed to a stop. A flickering yellow alert blinked in the corner of the interface: “TURBOLIFT REROUTED — MAINTENANCE IN PROGRESS”.
She repressed a small sigh. The Ronin always seemed to be breaking when she was on a timeline. However, she was glad to be back aboard. Hoping the delay didn’t take too long, as she was aiming to catch the target that she was tracking through the ship.
One eyebrow arched as her obsidian eyes flicked to the reflection in the darkened panel of the lift’s inner wall. The woman who looked back at her was more rested than she'd felt in days. Since returning from her unexpected sojourn on Proxima Sigma IV, she'd caught a few uninterrupted hours of quality sleep, even though her new roommate was highly irritating, she had slept enough to reset her pulse. This time, she was more prepared, wearing a dark green, cable-knit skivvy snug against her frame, sturdy charcoal utility pants cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt, and black, thick-soled combat boots completed the ensemble. Her mass of dark curls had been braided down her back with practised efficiency. A dark, nondescript utility pack rode purposefully on her shoulder.
T’Fearne narrowed her gaze at the ghost of her reflection.
The data chip in her pants pocket might as well have been a brick of latinum. She’d already exhausted every trick she’d learned at the Academy and a few not taught in any official curriculum. Now she needed backup. A fresh set of eyes with the system expertise and operational knowledge to interpret the oddities she'd found. But more importantly, someone she trusted not to report it before they understood what it really was.
She needed someone discreet. Someone capable. Someone she owed a drink and a long-overdue catch-up.
The corner of her reflection’s lips curled up in a smile.
Ding
The turbolift finally arrived on the right deck, and the doors whisked open, and someone nearly walked straight into her. A pair of shockingly green eyes, startled for a moment.
She had found her quarry.
T’Fearne: Tess. How convenient. I was just coming to find you.
Evinrude: Response
Before he could pivot or protest, she smoothly slipped her arm through his and turned him on his heel, guiding him out of the lift and back down the corridor he'd just exited like they were on a casual promenade. Her expression betrayed only the faintest glimmer of amusement, but her pace was brisk and her grip firm.
T’Fearne: If you're scheduled on leave for the next few days, I could use your help with something. But we can’t wear our uniforms.
((Tess’s Quarters, Deck 03, Starboard Catamaran, USS Ronin, Orbiting PSIV))
She tapped the control beside his door, letting him back into his room without preamble, still moving quickly.
Evinrude: Response
She slung the pack to the side off her shoulder, unfastened the top, and pulled a second, empty pack out of the first.
T’Fearne: :: unfazed :: Ah, I meant you need to change into civilian attire, we need to blend in with the colonists. Dress for warm weather, but bring a jacket. And a tricorder for data retrieval and analysis, and anything else you think might help for stitching corrupted logs or slicing encrypted subroutines. :: Handing over the empty pack :: Here you can put anything you need in that. And hurry please, the Kushiro is scheduled for a passenger run down to the colony. We’re booked. Departure is scheduled in 15 minutes, but we need to be quick, the turbolift is broken again or something, so we might have to take the jeffererys tubes.
Evinrude: Response
T’Fearne: I’ll explain more on the way. This should be interesting. :: pause :: Will you trust me?
[Tags / TBC, possibly as a JP]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14