Main Sim [Deck 34]: Meanwhile, Elsewhere...

Posted Jan. 14, 2022, 8:26 p.m. by Lieutenant Issac Forgrave (Chief of Security) (William Deaton)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Peter Sigmundsson (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Main Sim [Deck 34]: Meanwhile, Elsewhere…

Posted by Lieutenant Kalika Darz (Security Officer) in Main Sim [Deck 34]: Meanwhile, Elsewhere…

Posted by Lieutenant Kalika Darz (Security Officer) in Main Sim [Deck 34]: Meanwhile, Elsewhere…
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻


Baker’s mouth worked into a sneer as he turned away from his team, his eyes cold and distant. He pressed his ever-moving fingers against his lips, shaking his head slowly. A slow breath left him, barely a whisper.

“Filthy creatures.” Tapping his comm badge, he made a wry face. =^=”Baker to Forgrave. We’ve got… I don’t know, an energy sprite loose on Deck 34. Went right through our containment field. And the wall. We’re looking into it, but could use a hand when you can spare. Baker out.”=^=

=/\=Baker - just got to deck 34 - you still in block 17?=/\= Forgrave’s reply was prompt; with a hint of breathlessness. With the transporters down, there was little option beyond running to get anywhere in a hurry.

It wasn’t long before the Security Chief came jogging around the corner; and he slowed to a walk before approaching Baker, breathing heavily and shirt tunic unbuttoned. “Situation?” He fairly barked the question as his eyes darted around, taking in the scene in the corridor. “Passed a group with an ensign; what happened? Them uh, sparky things attack, or whatever they do ta her?” Issac gestured vaguely at nothing, before turning at the sound of panting as NE Yogesh arrived. “Sorry… Sir… need to do.... more cardio…”

-Forgrave, CoS

Baker looked up from the tricorder in his hand, glanced at the wall, then back to Forgrave. Disapproval was written all over the man’s face, which wasn’t unusual for the security officer. Baker had always been a stern officer, the kind of man that likely ate nails and bled iron shavings. Difficult to read and get along with but almost perfect for the position Starfleet had assigned him. Baker poked at his tricorder as he talked, focused.

“Ensign Bogon, sir,” he murmured flatly. “A bolian science officer. She’s still in shock, but fine. Heard her telling Lattimer that they just appeared in the hall, came right through the bulkhead. Computer log says she engaged the containment field, then retreated to where we found her. Brave woman, being trapped in there with those… things. Feed suggests we managed to respond before they made contact with her, but she’s getting checked out now.”

The security officer gestured to the wall where he’d been scanning. “One of them—the one that came through the field—went through there. Scans show a slight destabilization in the duranium plating, but nothing can’t be repaired. The other one moved toward us when I dropped the field to try and get to Bogon, so I fired. It vanished, and we got her out of there. Then I called you. We’ve been holding position ever since.”

Issac shook his head at the chaos of it all. There was a lot going on, and no-one knew what any of the dangers were - or the consequences. “Good work, Baker. Glad we ain’t got casualties here; was worried ‘bout that. But, you said them sparky things went through a containment field? Damn, but if that ain’t more bad news....” His face creased in frustration as he considered that new, unwelcome knowledge.

Baker glanced down the corridor in both directions, then took a wary step closer to Forgrave. His voice was low, apprehension thick in his tone. “Sir, what do you think they were doing all the way down here?”

“Iffin’ I knew, sure as space is cold I wouldn’t keep it ta myself. Ain’t got a damn clue about what’s going on right now; and what I do know ain’t adding up by my math. Just knowing if them floating things had a motive or anything would give us something ta go on, but as is…” He frowned, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Actually, I’m startin’ ta wonder if we ain’t got more than one thing going on right now; and we’re conflating them in error…”

Using the computer Fayth tracked down all the senior staff. Since there seemed to be some activity with the ‘motes’ on Deck 34 she started with Lt Forgrave. She approached the area and waited until the Lt looked at her. “Lt Forgrave, I need to fix you with one of these bands.” She pointed to the one on her arm that was blinking red. “It will alarm if you come into contact with one of the motes.”

Fayth, med

Lieutenant Forgrave’s scan came back as clean as his last physical, with no sign of any electrostatic signatures in his synaptic cleft. Slightly elevated levels of adrenaline and a touch of high blood pressure, but the man had been racing around the Viking like a hamster on fire so it was to be expected. His arm monitor blinked a green all-clear as it synced up to the ship’s main computer.

“So I reckon y’all’ve got working… well, somethin’-anothers, then?” He eyed up the now-secured armband curiously. “Any progress with tracking them motes around? Seems they’re poking around the ship all willy-nilly; be damn nice if we could at least track ‘em.”

Forgrave, CoS

The young doctor shook her head. “I’m not sure Lt. Medical has been sharing everything with science but I have not heard an update on their progress yet. These bands will alarm and alert the ship’s computer if you come into physical contact with the motes. It can’t prevent it, but at least you’ll know. Medical and security should be notified immediately if you hear a band alarm. Everyone else is being required to check in for a scan every hour at a check point. We just don’t have enough bands for everyone. My next stop is engineering and science. I can ask them to let you know their progress.”

Fayth, med

“Well, that’s a damned long ways better than nothing; and I sincerely appreciate y’all’s efforts.” Issac gave Fayth a warm, if tired smile; before a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “These bands retro-active, by chance? Or can ya determine iffin’ someone’s been uh… touched, let’s say, after tha fact?”

It had taken more than a few minutes for Kalika to navigate to the location of the CoS. With all the barricades in place, she had had to get checked and cleared by each point. But a moment later, she rounded the corner and saw Forgrave and Fayth in the hallway. “Chief, what can I do to help?” She had no clue how long she had been ‘absent’ for. Even medical hadn’t been able to tell her that. Best she knew, she’d lost at least most of the day if not the whole thing. She was still disoriented a bit, like oversleeping when ill and losing time. But she was there, hair still damp, ready to do her duty.

Lt Kalika Darz
((hair wet, uniform not all that impressive, looking slightly disheveled and distracted.... fyi))

Issac fell silent and turned as Kalika called out. He was silent for a moment; unspoken questions plain on his face before he regained the power of speech. “Uh; glad ta see ya Lt. Darz, reckon you been cleared by medical, then?” His eyebrows rose at both women; in case there was an objection to his question - and he half-expected one, given her disheveled state.

“Well, I can’t say ‘no’ ta help, that’s fer sure. Like I said, glad ta see ya up and about, but please don’t strain yerself. Right now, I think we’re stuck playing ‘catch-up’ with whatever is going on here, and I’m getting damned tired of it. For the moment, let’s make sure everyone right here’s all right - emotionally, if not medically.”

Shortly after Darz, the hulking frame of Peter appeared around the corner, he was back again in his uniform and shoes, having gathered his belongings from Forgrave’s office. his jacket was zipped down and swished open on occasion, revealing several metallic handles. He had also armed himself with a type two phaser now holstered to his waist. He also had one of the new bands attached to his left hand. He took position next to Forgrave and tapped the green bulb of his band “Cleared fit for duty, heard you might need a hand or two” He looked over at Kalika and for a moment he could see a flash of a memory, the taste of beer and a very cross looking Kohr. He shook his head, he could investigate what happened at a later date.


“Commander! Glad ta see ya under somewhat better circumstances.” Issac grinned wryly at the large man. “Sadly, situation ain’t been resolved as of yet… And I keep coming up with more ‘n more questions, and damned few answers. Which, speaking of, I think I got something perfect fer our resident spook ta dig into, if yer game fer it.”

“Somethin’s been bugging me since our guest’s been attacked - now, I may well be jumpin’ at nothing, but I ain’t willing to leave it alone until I’m proven wrong. Ta outline what I’m thinkin’, I think it’s fair ta say that something is affecting our crew on an individual basis, right? Now, this seems ta be directly tied to them floating motes, but I ain’t one-hundred percent sure on that point as of yet. But I think it’s fair to say that Mr. Hab’rabi brought at least some of them aboard; seemingly knowingly and intentionally, but I don’t think maliciously. But then NE Sacco damn near kills the man, for no reason so far as he can recall - and as far as I know, that ain’t exactly in character fer anyone on my staff. I’m thinking that something got into his head and mucked about - similar ta what we’re seeing with some others here, but with wildly different outcomes. Now, we got motes flitting about willy-nilly, and such chaos ain’t gonna make us any more likely ta help Hab’rabi and his folks - so I find it hard ta believe that any of this would be something he wants; even discarding getting himself put in a coma.”

“So..... what that makes me think, is that maybe there’s more ‘n one thing going on here. Ain’t got a clue what, just too many questions floating around in my nasty, suspicious little mind. But I’m hoping that’s where y’all can come in, Sigmundsson - I’d be mighty appreciative if you dug into this for me while I’m putting out fires. I hope I’m jumping at shadows, but.... well, I’d rather jump than get bit on the ass.” Issac shot a shark-tooth grin at the commander, hoping that the resident spook would have more luck.

-Forgrave, CoS

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