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MPT-"Six Hours From Evil"- the other Leviathan [Transitioned to Shuttlebay]

Posted Jan. 12, 2021, 6:36 a.m. by Commander Ryder Raauhl (Executive Officer) (J Ridgley)

Posted by Crewman Jonathan Durheim (Engineer) in MPT-“Six Hours From Evil”- the other Leviathan

Posted by Lieutenant Casela Synthi-er (Counsellor / RTF) in MPT-“Six Hours From Evil”- the other Leviathan

Posted by Crewman Jonathan Durheim (Engineer) in MPT-“Six Hours From Evil”- the other Leviathan
Posted by… suppressed (8) by the Post Ghost! 👻
(snip)
(OOC: Assuming that Durheim and Surda make it through the ship unhindered)
Durheim paused outside the Chief Engineer’s door; scanning it with his tricorder - though he held little in the way of expectations; Mr. Hampton was a fiendishly talented man. (If nothing appears unusual, and Surda doesn’t protest, Durheim will cautiously open the door and step inside, scanning the interior of the room.)

Durheim, Engineering

Surda nodded to Durheim, still considering his words. She smiled grimly as a thought struck her. =/\= You said he’s always been paranoid. What if something proved his paranoia right?=/\= She turned back to Durheim and spoke softly. “There is nothing more dangerous than a desperate man.”
-Surda, CoS

Durheim nodded in agreement. “Metaphorically speaking, you are correct Miss Surda. Desperation tends to remove hesitation and doubt; add a keen mind and whatever else has happened to Mr. Hampton…” He left the rest unsaid; distracted as he was quickly searching the man’s office. He didn’t expect to find much, but it was worth the effort to be sure.
-Durheim, Engineering

Casela sighed. =^=Then Lt we better hope we are smarter than he is. He’s brilliant and devious if needs be. Brute strength or superior numbers will not best him.=^= Hampton was brilliant and paranoid. If this ‘thing’ had convinced him that the crew really was out to get him, it would take a divine act to convince him that he was being lied to. A conspiracy theorist that was just shown that their conspiracies were true was the most dangerous type of person. Hampton proved that the night he asked her for the truth in the lounge and she gave it to him. He’d panicked and run and had become more and more withdrawn, at least from her. Where before they could at least speak about work or ship’s business, she’d rarely seen him. The two could possibly be unrelated but given the current circumstances, it was equally possible she at fault for his continued paranoia.
Lt Synthier-er, CNS

  • Turbo Lift on the way to Shuttle-Bay
    Between the whirring of the turbo lift Ryder could hear his heart beat, his breath and found it matching the rhythm of Casela’s. Everything about this ship was eerie and disturbing and he wondered if they had been left alone for so long because whatever, whoever it was that was causing this horror induced fictitious landscape was no longer on this ship and was already killing the people on thier ship, he hoped, prayed and wished it wasn’t true. “We should finish up here soon and get back, we may be running out of time.” He said finally breaking the melancholy silence.

  • Raauhl, XO

-They’d come to get answers and so far, they had none. Whatever ‘Evil Hampton’ was it was beyond her ability to truly read and comprehend. Much like meeting Q. But there were human type elements to Evil Hampton and then....more. And the longer they were away from their ship, the worse it could get. Durheim and Bog were the best engineers they had other than Hampton, and their Hampton was…lost to the orb. Surda was CoS and they needed her over there for what ever trouble might be released. And Ryder was the XO and Cobb would need him there for whatever appeared next. She on the other hand seemed to be a chew toy for whatever anomalies they encountered. They liked to use her for telepathic torture. She shrugged to herself, if it kept these monstrosities from bother the rest of the crew she’d deal with it. Casela breathed slowly despite the rising tension. “We’ve not heard anything from this Hampton, nor from our Leviathan. I’m not sure there is anything left to learn here. But I feel like we are missing something. Like we’ve focused so much on the horror of the images, we missed the bigger picture. But whatever is coming next, I’d rather be with our crew than over here watching helplessly.”
-Lt. Synthi-er, RTF

Unbeknownst to Durheim and Surda, they were being monitored. Well, all four of them were. But they were being monitored in person. Hampton had retreated back to the engineering section when he had realized Durheim and Surda were there. He watched them enter his office and smiled. He silently walked to the entry of his office. quickly, he plugged in his command codes and the doors slid shut and locked together with a thud, sealing Durheim and Surda in his office. He strode over to a panel nearby and plugged into the office intercom. “Not desperation, apathy.” He said to the two. His fingers flew over the buttons, in a few moments, anesthesia gas began pouring into his office.

Mr. Hampton

Durheim turned quickly upon hearing the door slam closed; remaining still while Hampton spoke to them over the intercom. You seem quite determined for an apathetic man, Mr. Hampton… But he left those thoughts unsaid; wanting to conserve his breath against the gas that was now hissing into the room. Moving quickly, he swept clean the Chief Engineer’s desk of its various contents, dumping out his large tool bag onto its surface - smacking the desk to grab Lt. Surda’s attention and pointing out a few tools in particular. Durheim had brought a variety of equipment for this venture, though he was cursing himself for not bringing a ventilator or any form of breathing apparatus - scans of the ship had revealed that the air was safe to breathe, and he hadn’t considered it a concern. Should he survive this mishap, he would not make that mistake again. He also hadn’t expected to need to cut through any bulkheads, and the small plasma torch he had was very likely inadequate for that task. But between it, the hammer and chisel, grinder, and small hull axe.... None of the tools were especially powerful; they were more intended for emergency and/or smaller work, but they were better than fists and dreams.

For himself, Durheim snatched up a small prybar and some electronic equipment and moved back to the door. With brief effort, he had the door control panel ripped off the wall, and moments later he had a series of leads snaked into the guts of the controls. Durheim was loathe to sing his own praises, but he was a talented hacker, if not very refined. But he had no idea how he might compare to Mr Hampton. One didn’t become Chief Engineer by sitting on one’s laurels. As he tried to control his breathing, he dumped in dirty scrap code and viruses into the door system, hoping to rapidly overload the firewall and grant access. He didn’t know what the gas that was being piped into the room actually was, but it was likely not conducive to their escaping unharmed; and the metaphorical clock was ticking down rapidly.

Crewman Durheim; Engineering

Surda jumped slightly when the doors slammed closed, spinning around with a knife in her hand. She had a few advantages compared to Durheim. She was fairly resistant to a variety of poisons, and she was naturally stronger. “If you can’t open the door, disable it.” She wouldn’t waste air explaining herself, instead moving to inspect the seam of the door. They were designed to seal, but with a thin enough knife she might be able to allow fresh air into the room.
-Surda, CoS

The virus appeared to be working, Hampton had not modified the circuits and the anesthesia gas was simply a ship defense system that the chief engineer had tapped into. In a few moments, Durheim had access to the ventilation system for the room. The door was a different problem. It was still sealed, and the controls were not overridden.

Standing outside the office Hampton frowned. His chronometer told him he still had thirty minutes. He had his ace up his sleeve, but once he played it, he would be out of tricks. He needed to buy himself twenty more minutes. Glancing at the internal sensors he knew that the counselor and the XO were in the shuttlebay. He scowled, and ducked into a Jeffries tube, it was time to pull another rabbit out of a hat.

Mr. Hampton

“They should have already arrived, I’m worried,” Raauhl said pacing the shuttle bay, the rest of the away team had yet to arrive and he was beginning to suspect there was some foul play. “DO we have the portable forcefield generators I’m beginning to feel as if this is just what he wanted?” He looked to Casela and then to the shuttle, “If not lets use the shuttle’s shield, we’ll localise them until the others arrive.”

  • Lt Cmdr Raauhl, XO

Casela nodded, “Then maybe only one of us should go to the shuttle so we aren’t in the same place? I can try to get access to Valkyrja and you can contact them? You’re command codes should still work here. The computer should accept any orders you give it.” She didn’t like it either. “And I’m not sure, other than our own wits how much the ships systems will help us, as far as working how we think they will. Hampton knows this ship better than anyone.”
Lt Synthi-er, RTF

OOC: Copying to Shuttlebay thread.

Durheim nodded firmly to himself once his datapad showed the ventilation system; he immediately halted the gas inflow; smiling in relief upon seeing it was a simple anesthetic; not a nerve agent. A few more taps, and the ventilation system was reversed; purging the room of whatever gas remained. With that immediate issue dealt with, he moved on to the door itself. Shrugging to himself, he began sending commands to the various electromagnetic locks and hydraulic pumps that secured it in place; systematically shutting them down one by one - a somewhat tedious process. It would be easy to lock everything in place by accident - most ship systems were designed to ‘fail open’ - without power, you generally didn’t want to be trapped in place. The Leviathan however, was not ‘most ships.’ She was built to keep things in place - at all costs.

After a few minutes of careful work, Durheim snaked a slender metal arm into the space where the panel had been; reaching for a bundle of hydraulic lines that he knew to be there. Bracing himself with his other arm, he yanked - with a tearing of metal and snapping of hoses, pale hydraulic fluid jetted out of the hole; splattering on the deck. “That should do it, Miss Surda - the door should be able to be forced now.”

In the action and confusion; Durheim had frankly forgotten about his combadge and keeping in touch with the other parties aboard this clone of the Leviathan - but the thought popped back into his head as he rose and gathered his tools. =/\=Mr. Raauhl, Miss Synthi-er; this is Durheim. We were trapped by Mr. Hampton in his office; but we have escaped and are none the worse for wear. What is your status?=/\=

Durheim, Engineering

There was air silence for several tense moments and then McReady’s voice came over the comm. =^=Mr Durheim, their life signs are failing. Anything you and Lt Surda can do, now would be the time. We read them in the Shuttle bay.=^=

Surda shot a look at Durheim and scowled. “We are going straight to them.” She knelt down in front of the door and whipped out two thick knives, slamming them into the seam in the door in one fluid motion. She forced the doors open enough to slide her foot in between, using her body weight to push them apart. “Run.”
Surda, CoS

“Yes, Miss Surda - one moment, please.” Ignoring the glare that was all but lethal, Durheim swiftly turned back to the desk where he had dumped out his bag of tools; rapidly grabbing a few items - the hull axe among them. Passing through the door that was politely held open, he gave the control panel a longing glance - he wished there was time to make repairs; or at least replace the panel that had been ripped away in haste. But alas, the Security Chief was very unlikely to give him the time. “This way, Miss Surda!” Jonathan took off at a sprint, per Surda’s request; thinking of the fastest way to the Shuttle Bay. Diving into a nearby jefferies tube, he began furiously typing on the control panel - overriding the artificial gravity settings; and reversing them. Falling was faster than climbing, after all…

Durheim; wanna-be avatar of engineering chaos…

OOC: Oh my bad Shuttle bay not Cargo bay....corrected
-Jenn
OOC: ah; I’ve edited my previous post to reflect the correct location.

IC: Note to self - climbing is slower, but less prone to accident. Durheim ignored the pain in his hip as he ran; the damage appeared superficial, though it was affecting his speed. He tried not to dwell on the reason behind his haste - obstinately chalking it up to duty and orders. But a part of him… a very small, heretofore undiscovered part of himself was scared. Not of death, or things left undone - nothing for himself, actually. He was scared for… others.

Durheim was, in a word.... Strange. For all of his thirty-some years of existence, he had considered himself distinctly separate from his fellows; with little to no attachment to them beyond necessity or convenience. In the past, he had left… more than a few people ‘to their fates,’ a polite euphemism that he used on occasion. It sounded better than ‘deliberately and calculatedly placing people who trusted him in positions that directly lead to their deaths.’ And of course, he remained silent on the topic of murder. People were remarkably hesitant to trust him after those conversations. But Jonathan considered himself to be a rational man; not bound by thoughtless emotion. As he ran through the corridors that he knew so well, he thought back to his relatively brief stay on the Leviathan - and found that he truly did care for her crew. They were more than just tools and warm bodies; they had accepted him for who he was - or at least, everything that he had revealed about himself. There were no hushed whispers; no disconcerted looks when they thought he couldn’t see. Instead, there was open discussion; offers to collaborate, genuine kindness.

He wasn’t sure if Miss Surda was still with him; she may well have run ahead while he was daydreaming. But as he approached the shuttle bay, an idea crystalized. Hopefully he could prevent Casela and Ryder’s deaths.

OOC: Moving to Shuttle bay thread
Durheim; the remarkably introspective at inopportune times.

OOC - Great Posting from you both!

Jake


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