Posted Sept. 28, 2022, 10:06 p.m. by Gamemaster Alias Smith N. Jones, Esq. (Gamemaster) (James Sinclair)
Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Main Sim - Tellarite Freighters Stink, By The Way (Tag Away Team)
Posted by Gamemaster Alias Smith N. Jones, Esq. (Gamemaster) in Main Sim - Tellarite Freighters Stink, By The Way (Tag Away Team)
Posted by Lieutenant Miranda Martel (Chief Engineer) in Main Sim - Tellarite Freighters Stink, By The Way (Tag Away Team)
Posted by… suppressed (8) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Micah walked over and nudged the corpse with his foot and then chuckled. Absent-mindedly waving the pistol that killed their crew mate in their general direction, he said “Ya know… my friends heading to your cargo bay are not nearly as nice as me. If y’all wanna do something productive, ya could hop on the comms and tell all your little piggie buddies down there to just stand down. Otherwise? Well… we ain’t had pork chips in a while. Might do us some good to stock up the ‘ol freezer if ya know what I’m sayin.” and he chuckled at the corpse again.
There was a pause as the two bridge operators looked at their dead crewman and then at each other. Finally, one nodded and slowly moved to the comm station. Micah waved the pistol under his nose and said “Be convincing, now.... I’d sure hate for the need for a extra nostril to come into play.” The Tellerite glared hard at him but tapped the comms and his voice was heard all through the freighter. =/\= Attention. All hands. This is acting Captain Frez. We have been boarded and the bridge taken. The intruders only want the cargo. It’s… it’s not worth anymore lives. Stand down. Medical teams prepare for casualties. That is all. Do not engage further. Bridge out. =/\= Micah looked at him and nodded. “Good little piggie. Now sit. And be very quiet or the big bad wolf is liable to huff and puff and blow your ugly little face off.” and he made the crewmen sit on the floor.
Calloway proceeded in the other direction and having released the security controls on their destination and having the path all but cleared for them, she simply strode through the ship like she owned it. Her foggy blue eyes were hard and cold, but alert as she moved to teh cargo bay where their quarry was.
Ridad followed behind her. The rest of the ‘retrieval’ group as well. They all had a dangerous confidence about them, all carried differently. Some seeming hyper vigilant, some seeming eager for a fight, one even looked bored like this wasn’t a challenge. Ridad carried his rifle low like her would shoot from the hip like an Old West cowboy, but his posture was relaxed and loose. His eyes scanned everywhere looking disappointed that there was no ‘fun’ to be had.
The passageways were mostly clear. As the retrieval team moved through the ship, those that weren’t already ducked into rooms and sealed the doors behind them.
Soon, they reached the cargo hold. The doors were open and the hold was empty of any personnel. Inside were dozens of crates stacked neatly in groups of four… all labeled with the crest of the Star Fleet Marines… and all securely locked with the best locks and security seals the Fleet had to offer.
Ridad motioned four of the newly dubbed pirates to sweep either side of the bay. “This is too easy,” he muttered behind Calloway. A light tapof the headset of his wearable tricorder started a scan of each of the sets of four, scanning for any surprises or life signs hidden behind the crates. “Never know Marines to not accompany what they consider theirs.”
“Depends on the situation. None of the intel suggested this was urgent priority. Otherwise it’d be on a Marine ship, not third-party,” Calloway said quietly. She had gone over ever detail Strickland and her husband had given her and if there had been a chance of Marines present, they would have opted for a different approach. Also, they’d be in a shoot out for their lives already. No way in hell they’d just be walking about freely.
Forbes posted up inside the doorway, keeping watch. Rifle held in a high ready so he could muzzle-drive anybody coming through that he didn’t see before they got to him, but just as quickly snap into firing position, able to hose either end of the corridor. He glanced to Ridad. “Think your girlfriend can crack ‘em open,” he asked.
Ridad eyes Forbes sideways. “Beth? I ain’t dumb enough to think of her like that. The locks are computerized, so yeah, pretty sure the chief can handle this. You talkin’ about Randi?” He grinned, “Pretty sure she can crack ‘em too.” Focusing back on his scans, Ridad would not start tagging till he was sure he wasn’t beaming a trap or just an outright bomb back to the Rabid Pelican.
Shara took out the tag and had it ready, but definitely was waiting for the all-clear so they didn’t blow themselves up. After all, she wasn’t stupid.
The scans couldn’t penetrate the crates, but that wasn’t unusual with weapons shipments. But there was no sign of any extra explosives or traps on any of the crates. But the crates were marked with content labels. Grenades, rifles, armor, and assorted equipment for maintenance and care of the aforementioned gear was all listed and labeled on each crate.
Ridad turned to Calloway, “I’m not detecting anything fishy. Scans can’t penetrate the crates though. Labels say they are filled with weapons and explosives, but nothing extra seems to be on them.” Ridad pulled out his stack of tags, “Fenza, Kors you two watch the door,” and got to work tagging the crates. The signals showing up on the bridge of the Pelican.
Well, there was no helping the risk. Shara moved closer and helped Ridad tag the crates. “Let’s be quick and get the hell outta here,” she said, casting her gaze towards Micah. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for from her husband, but maybe some reassurance that they were on the right track with all of this.
With Ridad sending two more to watch the door, Forbes considered himself relieved and peeled back. The other two took up positions in cross coverage, ready to swing out and lay down the hate. Or stay behind the cover of the threshold and keep the narrow angles pied off, like shooting fish in a barrel.
Slinging his rifle into a front hang, muzzle pointed to the deck but ready to get back in the fight the second smoething happened, he fished out some of his own tags and joined in tagging their plunder. “Can’t wait to crack these open and play with some new toys,” he muttered mostly to himself.
It took only a couple of minutes and then all the crates were tagged, small lights blinking away in the dimly lit cargo hold indicating they were active and their signal was being received aboard the Pelican.
“Thumbs up for the retrieval and tell them to get us the hell out of here as soon as the targets are back on the ship,” ‘Elaine’ said, surveying the cargo with her rifle still well in hand. She clearly wasn’t relaxing even though they had nearly completed their task.
~Sahara Calloway, CIO
Slowly at first a crate or two would shimmer in gold light and vanish. But over the next few moments it began happening faster and faster until the hold they were in was now empty.
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