Ensign Tzim-Shah -Old Faces
Alieth
((OOC: sorry for the delay, between Holy Week, family visits and the baby who has been more needy I haven't been able to answer before, I'm catching up, and I'll go to act 2 tomorrow if there is no extra issue!))
((Inside the Soliton Express))
Tzim-Shah: ::opening his tricorder::: the engine room is that way :: pointing to the left:: stay close to the wall and don't come out of the shadows. Kid, if you spot liveforms, let us know and let me do the speaking.
If
Shav was asked by anyone, his speech was a fine way of saying “we
get off our butts now, or I'm kicking cows and engineers, and not
necessarily in that order”. Be that as it may, the whole concept
got through to the thick brains of the grease monkeys, so a short
while later they were moving down the side of the wagon, away from
the stinking bovids, until they reached the nearest door. For some
reason that the Tellarite couldn't fathom, unless the cows were worth
their pestilent weight in gold, the security seemed quite advanced,
and the chief engineer struggled with the lock longer than either of
them expected. Shav began to get nervous, his back against the wall
and his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond them. Standing still was
never a good option.
The Chief seemed to pick up on his
nervousness, and was quick to justify himself.
Tucker: I can bypass the security lock on this door, just give me a second.
Marty went to work, using a spanner to pry open the inner workings of the security panel. After a couple of second, Marty crossed a couple wired and the door slid half way open. They’d have to push it open the rest of the way. The door remained stubbornly in that position, refusing to move another iota further.
Tucker: Someone give me a hand with this…
The Tellarite curled a smile around his broken tusk and crouched beside Marty, placing organic and mechanical hoof on the edge of the half-open door.
Tzim-Shah: C'mon leave this to the security detail, skinny boy.
In spite of the digging, he counted with his fingers and at once the engineer and the guard began to push together, managing to open the door. A moment later, they were in the airlock that connected the cow dung with the next carriage. As if they had all agreed beforehand, they stopped just before the next door, and the kid pulled out his tricorder, scanning whatever calamity was in front of them.
Nakada: :: staring at the tricorder :: Well, there’s nothing alive in the next car.
They entered the new car, and luckily there were no cows, this one was well lit and looked like a pantry. It was stocked floor to ceiling with all sorts of good, mostly of the culinary variety.
Tucker: ::looking at Tzim-Shah:: Sorry buddy no friends here, it looks like a giant pantry. So hey if you’re needn’ a snack, now would be the time.
Tzim-Shah: Listen you, grease monkey...
The rest of the colourful string of insults that followed (possibly enough to earn him another formal reprimand and, perhaps, a stint in the brig when it was all over) was partially swallowed up by the rattling of the train on the Soliton Wave, as well as the beeping of the boy's tricorder. The fiendish gizmo somehow rang out dismayed to the Tellarite's ears, as if he'd seen the ghost of his 20th century ancestor or something to that effect.
Nakada: Guys, not to hurry you, but we’re at … Warp 5.5 now. Where’s the control room?
Shav turned to the recent recipient of his verbal abuse. Then he pointed at Tucker, shrugging.
Tzim-Shah: The Bossman is the one who had the plan and the one who threw it in the crapper when he parked the runabout, so let him tell us.
Tucker: I think it’s the next car ahead.
Shav let out a frustrated grunt, which was repeated several times until they reached the next section that opened into the airlock to take them to the next carriage. Unlike the previous ones, somehow this seemed more elaborated, as if they were moving from the commoners' quarters to the noble section of the train. Something that soured the Tellarite's attitude even more, given his lack of appreciation for engineers, which was what they probably would find in the other side. Likewise, the lock seemed even more complex than the one on the door they had hacked, which made him wrinkle his snout. Tucker stared at it for a moment, then turned to the Tellarite.
Tucker: Ensign Tzim-Shah if you would do the honors and ring the door bell.
The Tellarite hit the buzzer … and nothing happened. At his side, the kid frowned nervously.
Nakada: Are we sure there’s someone there?
Tzim-Shah: Sure there will be, kid, you think there's going to be an engine room of any kind without a bunch of engineers swarming around it? Really?
Then, he turned to look at Tucker and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Tzim-Shah: What do you want to do, knock now?
To his surprise, that is precisely what the engineer did.
Tucker: Hello?! We would have called ahead but your comms are down. We’re from the USS Ronin, we're here to help.
There was another pause, and the kid flipped open his tricorder again. Shav rested his organic hand on the door surface, considering whether they could blow it up somehow, and he had brought material with them to do so, when the door suddenly swished open.
On the other side appeared a familiar face, one he hadn't seen since he had been on the surface of Grus Beta 3, assisting in the evacuation. He wasn't the only one to recognize the crone, as the chief engineer put voice to their shared thoughts first.
Tucker: Shit.
Shav nodded
Tzim-Shah: Aye, we’re fuc…
[[End Act 1 for Tzim-Shah.]]
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Security Guard
USS Ronin USS-34523E239702A10
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