Lt. Cmdr. Kirsty Carpenter - Rust & Bone
Justin Partridge
((Interior. U.S.S. Ronin, Deck 11. Cargo Bay 5.))
The funniest thing was, Kirsty barely noticed the longish haired First Officer in the lift with her. She was far too deep in her own head.
First off with the silent admonishment that she had forgotten a PADD before clomping off the Bridge. As such, whatever the Science Department, those trusty Blue Ones, found with their probes would have to wait until she got to a terminal. That same PADD would have kept her informed as to the shuttlecraft's movements and status. That was strike two.
Obviously, that would be Major Singh's show (which would be getting fully underway about now, she reckoned), but Kirsty never did great not knowing things. Even the details that wouldn't even be in her hands, she still did a lot better knowing them all the same. That was something just baked into her DNA, she would rather know a thing than not. That way she could account for said thing and then act or react accordingly. "Never took a step she didn't think'ta death first" Ma's voice would rattle in her head during times of particular rumination.
Thankfully, Cargo Bay 5 was about to give her and the rest of them a chance to know a lot more than they currently did.
The lift came to a comfortable stop and Kirsty, realizing now with a dawning horror that the XO was with her, but then deciding to burst through it by not standing on ceremony (because she damn sure couldn't really now anyway), she clomped onto the active Bay, seeing instantly where their makeshift work area was set up. Thin dividing posts, holding atop pointed floodlights contained a pretty hefty amount of...well, junk to the naked eye.
Kirsty and the XO crossed confidently through and around the buzzing technicians and Bay workers to find their charges diligently working. Along with...someone in Medical Teal? As they got closer Kirsty could see and hear Dr. Kel, motioning with one hand and holding one of the sickly bright yellow and green hunks of the metal they had beamed in.
Kel: ::lifting up a piece of plate:: Take this one, possible exterior hull plate, but you can see the edges are bent inward towards the vessel. As if something impacted it from the outside.
Kirsty listened and looked intently as the doctor continued down another row of blown out metal. Now that she was closer to the debris, she could see it wasn't just the coloration that was different, it seemed also the texture was off. She would have to pick something up to tell for sure, but still she focused on the doctor's "presentation"
Kel: Same with this piece of conduit ::holding up a small piece of pipe::
She held her tongue a bit longer, looking expectantly at her officers. Wondering (almost hoping too) that they had seen something else they might have hadn't.
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Hopkins: I was expecting that they might have overlooked something at the core of the commercial vessel but something about this whole issue seems very suspicious and coldly calculated.
She wasn't wrong. Anybody that could do THIS much damage to a civilian vessel...it didn't speak to the controlled sort, that was for sure.
Kel: What's strange is that none of these pieces seem to fit together. They're different colors, different materials.
The Al-Leyan XO moved between the partitions and started his own inspection of the debris. Kirsty followed a careful suit, crossing the invisible line between the regular work of the Bay and this impromptu post-mortem on a ship that was likely older than all, if not, most of them. The former belt of metal floating in space had been arranged in neat rows like fresh plantings. It didn't seem that there was much distinction to the rows from Kirsty's view, but it was orderly which was the real important part anyway.
The XO seemed to take the silent approach as well. Walking and looking and looking and walking carefully and quietly, keeping one eye on the others. Kirsty bent slightly, stooping then to her haunches as she realized she needed to get lower to see what she really wanted to. The texture of the metal. It was odd, it didn't look just old, it looked...Kirsty didn't quite have the word for it, so she opted instead to listen further like the XO.
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Kel: Are we looking at a ship with lots of spare parts or someone's trash bins?
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Hopkins: Those poor souls probably didn't even know what hit them. It almost seems like they were caught with their pants down and were then attacked before they even had the chance to even flee. I mean how else can you properly explain the commercial vessel being found in the state that it's in without it being caught in some really huge anomaly. The smell of ozone is also very noticeable, especially from this other larger piece over here, take a look.
Mister Hopkins was directing their eyes toward a particularly largish piece of the debris rows when the XO spoke, drawing Kirsty's eyes from her prone position. She reached into the side leg pocket of the uniform pants she wore and produced the matching dark olive SDU utility gloves. Something had told her she would need them and sure enough...maybe those planned steps weren't so tedious after all, Ma, she thought acidically.
She pulled them on as Raga spoke.
Raga: Or cargo. ::He smiled:: From what we’re suspecting is a vastly outdated freighter by at least a century. And we’re inclined to believe they were attacked, but not by whom or why. It’s likely, depending on the type of freighter, that what we’re seeing is from whatever they carried. Perhaps they had to dump some cargo or had external cargo pods.
She stood once more.
Carpenter: We might find more'a that once the shuttles come back. I've surely seen it before, crew's think they might get raided so they dump their holds to keep the raiders off their backs. ::she turns to Kel and her officers:: Y'all find any sort of bio-material or just metals so far?
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Hopkins: RESPONSE
Kel: RESPONSE
The XO seemed to see something himself, crouching down in an easy copy of Kirsty's stance not even a few moments ago. Kirsty carefully lumbered over one of the rows of ship parts and ancient metals to see what he was seeing. More pukey colored sheafs of metal were collected at the First Officer's feet, but again the texture just looked...bonkers, frankly. Kirsty didn't have a more elegant word for it. It just looked wrong, warped beyond age and use.
She figured not unkindly that The Blue Ones of Science would likely have a flippin' field day with it.
Raga: We were correct. The coloration is off. And now that I’m looking at it, it definitely wasn’t caused by a projectile weapon.
Kirsty felt slightly vindicated with the assessment of the superior. But as he ran his fingertips over the piece of hull plating, Kirsty winced slightly; she couldn't imagine touching it with her bare hands.
Raga: It feels slightly melted. So, who remembers their forensic investigation training?
Kirsty felt his eyes on her, but she was careful not to tromp all over the other officer's assessments too. They had been looking at this stuff for a lot longer than they had and she didn't want to cut anyone off at the knees, right after they had just all gotten started with one another. She let her officers go first, but was cognizant (more than usual) that everyone would be expecting SOMETHING from her all the same.
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Hopkins: RESPONSE
Carpenter: No, y'all are right. This is all...too random to just be one salvo. You've got exterior panels, internal geegaws, and all these other pieces...you don't just get that with one "punch" so to speak...
Kel: RESPONSE
The XO, God love him, listened to all of them carefully and considerately (yet another far cry from COs of Kirsty's trip up the ladder of rank) and then once more walked his walk, taking yet another careful visual account of the debris they had scooped, pausing every once and awhile to pick something else up (drawing Kirsty's teeth a bit more on edge with each touch of his hand to the weird and discolored metal), level it before his eyes, and then finally he turned back to them all.
Trouble was...some of it looked...kinda heavy in Kirsty's eyes...but then again people worked out. There were other things to be thinking about just now anyway.
Raga: I don’t think all of this is from the hull. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that piece looks like part of a bulkhead. ::He pointed it out, yet again moving it with...unexpected ease. Kirsty filed that away for later.:: If that’s true, then it’s more likely we’ll require your services Doc. ::He looked at Kel::
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Hopkins: RESPONSE
It was Kirsty's turn to consider their words.
Carpenter: S'just weird. I've seen ship damage, energy weapon scoring before. I'm sure every one of us had. But I've never seen either look like this before.
Kel: RESPONSE
Raga: So, let’s say for sake of argument that they did desperately plot a course towards one of the radiation belts. Can we determine how badly their ship may be damaged from this debris? How long ago this happened? And how much time do we think their crew may have before lethal exposure and by extent how much time we have to find them?
The First Officer looked around them all in turn. Kirsty could feel the drive in his voice as he laid them out. She could also understand the purpose of it too. He meant for them to save them if they could. Kirsty was of the same mind, even if she didn't explicitly speak it. That had been the end-all, be-all tenet of her entire career. Life, above all else. Even, maybe, above her own if she was called to do so.
Obviously, it was early days with the Ronin, no one was asking for a blaze of glory from her, but even just knowing it within herself. It moved it, pushed her forward and onward even on the hard days. This new crew would get nothing less from her.
Kenmore: RESPONSE
Hopkins: RESPONSE
Carpenter: I would say, 4, 5 shots at least. The first few to start 'em limpin' and then the last to punch the hole.
Kel: RESPONSE
Raga: RESPONSE
Kirsty looked around for a particularly gnarly piece of metal (one that she could comfortably pick up), raising a carefully contrite and gloved hand toward her superior.
Carpenter: Sorry, Sir, I just wanna...
She found her chunk. A blasted and neon colored hilic of something that used to be space-worthy. Even through the gloves, it almost chilled Kirsty's skin to hold. It felt more like coral than metal now. It held the shape of a cog, but had the lightness of a really well made pastry. Kirsty hefted the thing that was once a part of a ship in one hand and ran the other over the twisted exterior of the top, tufts of yellow and green coming off in the running like dust.
Then, she applied pressure, squeezing her hands together and...::CRK!::
The whole of the piece cracked into oblivion in her hands, plunking out a sound remarkably like clay even in the din of the Cargo Bay. She turned back to her betters and peers, a look of confused incredulity on her face.
Carpenter: Whoa. Y'all saw that, right?
Raga/Kenmore/Hopkins/Kel: RESPONSE
Carpenter: Now I ain't just worried about what did this. I'm worried about just what in damnation it might do to a living being. Not to mention shields...
Raga/Kenmore/Hopkins/Kel: RESPONSE
--
Lieutenant Commander
Kirsty L. Carpenter
//\\
Chief of Security & Tactical
Starfleet SAR
(Marine Rank: Major)
//\\
U.S.S. RONIN
NCC-34523
ID: E239512QC0
//\\
F.N.S. CONTRIBUTOR