1stLt Wes Greaves – Second Time is the Charm
blacknight3022
1stLt Wes Greaves – Second Time is the Charm
((Jorwhicaster, New Bajor))
They pulled back into the shuttle and Greaves immediately began working to get the vessel into the air. There were angry faces through the viewscreen and it wasn’t long before the rocks started flying and impacting against the hull.
Brodie: Wes, start the engine and keep it ticking over will you. Thanks. ::Turning to Quen:: Quen, you seemed to want to tell us something back there?
Greaves: Yeah Doc, what’s going on?
Quen: Somebody approached me - told me to go to the grist mill up the river. Didn't see who it was. I turned around and they were gone.
Wes frowned as he scanned over the after engine start checklist. His attention being split meant that he really only heard Quen in the background, but that statement caught his attention. It was pretty flimsy intel to go on, but their reception had been anything but friendly so a quick exit seemed prudent anyway.
Brodie: That’s concerningly cryptic…yet direct.
Quen: I thought so as well. If whoever it was meant harm, they could have killed me already - they were definitely close enough to...
Greaves: oO Wait, did she say a mill? Oo
Greaves: Alright, try not to make fun of the non-farm-kid here, but what even is a mill? Like those big tall cylindrical farm buildings?
Brodie: There was an abandoned one where I grew up, on one of the rivers that fed the loch. There were, on earth at least, communal. Farmers would bring their grain and the miller would turn in into flour – minus a percentage for the miller in lieu of wages. They were the heart of any farming community.
Quen: It’s the same on Bajor - and the same here, I’d wager. And with no grain to grind, I reckon it'd be
the perfect place to hide something.
Wes turned back to the final steps of the checklist and shrugged.
Greaves: Huh, the more you know, I guess. You think your new friend will have a more friendly welcoming party for us this time?
Brodie: Maybe…although they had us pretty well cornered back there. It’s certainly worth further investigation.
Deena smiled. She turned back toward the console and started tapping away.
Quen: I'll pull up the coordinates.
With the last button press, he completed the engine run-up tests just as Quen’s data began populating on his console.
Greaves: Got it the bearing. Hope it’s not too far away. (Turning to Brodie). We’re ready here, sir, just give the word.
Brodie: Take us up towards the mill, we can run a sensor sweep when we get there – make sure there’s no surprises. I’ll call it in.
Deena nodded. A soft chirp emanated from the computer, and she turned to Greaves.
Quen: I’ve got it - six point two kilometers north.
Greaves: Copy.
The shuttle lifted off the ground in a lazy semblance of flight just as another rock pinged off the hull. Quickly, the craft began accelerating up and away from the small farm town. Alex tapped the comm. as the ship began to rise.
Teller: =/\= Thor here Alex, but we can barely hear you. Can you make out our transmission? =/\=
Brodie: =/\= Not great…we’ve met the local community and they are not happy. They seem to be under the impression that this blight on their world is something to do with us. We’ll have to take extreme care on the surface as the whole place is probably a day away from a full scale riot. =/\=
Teller: =/\= Understood. If you need armed support, I left a Marine team behind in support - Lieutenant Greaves can give you the comm frequencies for Lt. Cmdr. Rouiancet's shuttle. Were you able to get any new information at all? =/\=
Brodie: =/\= There’s something else, a lead of sorts. It might be nothing but it’s a question that needs an answer. We’ll keep you posted. Tigris out. =/\=
Brodie: Right, to the mill. Loop us around the long way if you can, that way our unwilling hosts won’t see us headed that way.
Quen: Aye, sir.
Greaves: I’ll keep us low so it’s tougher to see our direction as well.
Quen: I'm not reading any weapons signatures. ::muttering:: Of course, that doesn't rule out the torch and pitchfork…
Greaves: (Sarcastic tone) Great, I can bleed to death instead of being vaporized.
Brodie: Response
Quen: Reading two lifesigns nearby, but they're about half a kilometer away from the building.
Brodie: Response
Greaves: Easy day sir. Bringing us down.
Out the window the gentle rolling hills of the countryside gave way to the sight of the flowing river, a large mill jutting up out of the ground near an intersection of two roads. Several small vehicles in various states of repair were clearly visible scattered about.
Quen: There's enough space to land right in front of the mill, so hopefully we won’t encounter them.
Greaves: Agreed. I’m gonna put us down right next to that intersection.
The small craft slowed to descended at a meandering pace until it finally came to a soft rest against the dirt. With a nearly inaudible creek, the landing struts took on the weight of the shuttle as the engines came to idle.
Brodie: Response
Standing, Wes rearranged the small phaser hidden against the small of his back. They had left in such a hurry he had been forced to fly with it like that, painfully jabbing into his spine. Standing was a relief, but he could feel the imprint in his skin where the muzzle had been pressed against him.
Greaves: What do you say we give this a try. Round two!
With a slap of a red button against the wall, the clamshell back ramp opened and sunlight poured directly into the cabin again.
Brodie/Quen: Response
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First Lieutenant Wes Greaves
Marine Detachment Commander
USS Thor - NCC 82607
E239702WG0
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