STF

Nine Forward

Posted Jan. 13, 2021, 12:08 p.m. by Ensign Ashlyn Trenton (Security Officer) (Brian Armstrong)

Posted by Civilian Shane Warwick (Unexpected Guest) in Nine Forward

Posted by Ensign Ashlyn Trenton (Security Officer) in Nine Forward

Posted by Civilian Shane Warwick (Unexpected Guest) in Nine Forward
Posted by… suppressed (7) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Shane woke up violently having experienced another incarceration dream. After a quick visual assessment of the area his anxiety eased.

Sickbay was empty, at least to what he could see. Someone had been kind and lowered the lights in his area. Must have been that Andorian doctor. He got up and found the refresher. Having taken care of his immediate task, he looked himself over in the mirror. Yikes, he certainly looked like a prisoner. That needed to change.

When he returned to the main floor, it was still empty. His left eyebrow tilted as he thought. ‘No guard…no doctor…maybe a quick trip out into the corridor. Trenton said she wanted to show me around…I think I’ll take her up on that.’

Warwick took several tentative steps towards the door, and no one seemed to notice. The Sickbay doors slid open and Shane Warwick stepped out onto the corridor. Knowing the ship certainly helped, and he was able to get to a wall mounted computer access. Knowing he was taking a chance, Shane cleared his throat and clearly asked, “Computer. Where is Lieutenant Trenton?”

“Voice recognition not found. Please identify.” ‘Frick!’ his internal voice shouted. ‘Come on, Shane. It’s just a puzzle, you can do this.’

“I’m Doctor Carson Lowe. I am returning from an indefinite Leave Of Absence. Please list me as returning to duty.” Shane Warwick was dead, but Lowe was the name he last used as an active Starfleet officer. One he knew the ship’s computer would be able to find. It’s a long shot… Abrams will most assuredly will be notified. She’ll probably send a pair of knuckle dragging goons in gold shirts to escort him to the brig. He had to get moving, no matter what…

“Carson Lowe. Rank, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Last posting USS Crusader. Status provisionally re-instated pending Level 4 review. Please proceed to Security Office, Deck Seven.”
‘Wow! It worked!’ Shane was ecstatic , “Where is Lieutenant Trenton?’

“Please proceed to Security Office, Deck Seven” So much for the momentary feeling of relief. Now it’s in a loop. He had one more Idea.

“Computer, where will I find Security Chief Abrams.” Maybe if it thinks I’m turning myself in…

“Lieutenant Abrams is in Nine Forward.” ‘Good enough for me…Nine Forward here I come.’

  • Warwick

Shane walked briskly, with purpose. He was on a mission. The computer terminal he had accessed was on Deck Four. He wanted to get to Nine Forward,
but that meant he had to traverse five decks looking like a refugee. And probably with Security on his trail. While the name Carson Lowe didn’t mean much to the Officer On Duty working the Security office, Abrams and Trenton would know it was him. That is why he needed to get to Nine Forward. Abrams was there. It was his hope.

Seeing a turbolift up ahead, and no large gold shirts yet, he felt a spring in his step. Just a few more moments and he would be out of sight, at least for the time being. He walked up to the turbolift doors…and they didn’t open. Panic flashed in his mind. A man crewman turned the corner. Shane spun his head and faced the turbolift door, head down. The crewman stepped up next to him and the turbolift opened. Shane stepped into the car as well.

“Deck Ten.” the blue shirted Bajoran announced. He waited a moment, waiting for Shane it seemed. “Which Deck do you need?” he asked suspiciously.

“Deck Nine.” Shane replied, “I was asked to go to the Battle Sickbay by Doctor Zarath.”

“What are you wearing? Who are you? Why are you out of uniform?”

Obviously the Bajoran is from science with all the questions. But Shane had actually been thinking of answers to these obvious questions, so he answered,

“My name is Doctor Shane Warwick. I have just come back from an extended Leave of Absence. I was asked to go to the Battle Sickbay to get a medical uniform as my commission is currently being re-activated. I can’t use the replicators yet. It also means I can’t really get about the ship.”

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me with the turbo lift. You know how frustrating waiting for paperwork can be.” Shane added with a smile.

That seemed to placate the Bajoran, and they endured the rest of the turbolift ride in silence. Soon the turbolift opened, and Shane could see a placard indicating they had reached Deck Nine.
As he stepped out the Bajoran called out. “Good luck, Doctor. I hope your paperwork problems will end soon.”

“Thank you.” Shane waved as the turbolift door closed. Deck Nine....

Deck Nine was like any other aboard Europa. Shane knew he had to get out of his current outfit if he was to not draw anymore attention to himself. He kept his head down avoiding eye contact until he reached the Battle Sickbay. Once inside he moved to the side of the darkened room until the door closed. Previously, Europa’s medical protocol called for the Battle Sickbay to be unlocked, because one never knew when it would be needed. But it was powered down for the same reason as the other emergency spaces, like the Battle Bridge. He was glad that protocol remained.

Once he was alone, Shane turned on the lights and rummaged through the two storage closets. He was searching for the extra uniforms kept there. Donning a traditional blue duty uniform, he looked more like he belonged. Checking himself in the refresher, he did the best he could with his short yet shaggy hair. When he was sure he looked the best he could, he exited the Battle Sickbay. He was determined to meet someone and use his rusty social skills. Maybe a cute non-com or naive Ensign would spend some time with him. Hopefully his change of clothes will hold off the goons from Security long enough for him to at least get a drink.

He came upon the double wooded doors with the Starfleet insignia etched into the transparent aluminum windows. A young couple exited oblivious to their surroundings, lost in each others company, and Shane entered before the door could close. The sounds of social interaction were everywhere. Eating utensils clanking on dishes, glasses clinking as they touched the tables, voices in various volumes competing against each other. Shane stopped for a moment and took it all in. It was his kind of place. At least it used to me. Who knows if it will be again.

An male attendant was behind the bar, wiping down the surface with a small white towel. Shane took a corner stool, farthest from the door with a few stools away from the other patrons. He saw Shane and came over.

“Hello, Would you like something to drink? He asked politely.

“Alderbaren Whiskey. bottom shelf.” Shane replied, adding the key phrase that told the attendant to NOT give him synthohol.

“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have any. May I suggest a glass of light Rose’ wine?” A common response to someone who should not have real alcohol. Shane was having none of that. After years in an Orion prison his first drink was NOT going to be watered down de-fanged grape juice.

“My name is Doctor Shane Warwick. I have just returned from an extended Leave of Absence. I am requesting the whiskey for it’s medicinal properties.”

A flash came across the attendants face and he moved to another section of the bar. He returned with a trapezoid shaped bottle containing a viscous green liquid. A short glass appeared from almost no where and Shane was poured his drink.

He raised it slowly and brought it to his nose. He took a long sniff and a smile crossed his face. Just as slow he brought the liquid to his lips and took a sip. Savoring the taste he swished it over ever millimeter of his mouth before swallowing. Eyes closed, he let out a sigh of satisfaction.

  • Warwick

(OOC: Warwick has escaped the strict confines of Sickbay to savor a bit of life before assuredly being brought to the Brig. If anyone would like to interact with him before that happens, you are welcome to join in.)

Ensign Trenton had been keeping her eye on the security terminals all morning with delightful tedium of study and analysis. From this location, she can see where everyone on this ship is and anticipate where they are going. One of the games she likes to play is to open doors people are going to access prior to their arrival at the sensor just to see if she can guess where they are headed. This is done by gathering information on their movement habits over several days and at this point, she can claim a 45% accuracy. Better than average for sure, but still room for improvement.

Today, however, had a more interesting event take place. A reinstatement request for security clearances came through for a familiar name. The name wasn’t on the ship’s crew listing so she spent a moment trying to figure out where she had seen the name before. “Carson Lowe?” The internal activity of the Conference become active as they went from one memetic file cabinet to the next bulling anything related to Carson Lowe until the answer she was looking for was found. The name had appeared on her research into Shane Warwick! He knew he wouldn’t be able to get the permissions he needed to leave Sickbay with his own name so he relied upon an alias. More concerning was the fact that the Alias existed without causing an error in the DNA recognition database. “Because that level of scan is only done in Sickbay.” Trenton rubbed at her temples as she processed what to do next. “He’s not going to have a comm badge registered to him just yet.”

Trenton got to work on the computer, shifting internal visuals from junction to junction leaving Sickbay trying to find Shane. The computer should have directed him to the Security Office, but his current lack of presence meant he deviated and someone in the crew let him. Trenton would have to put together a proposal for basic security training for all crewmembers, letting a stranger freely roam the ship was not a secure practice.

Finally located on the Nine-Forward camera, Ashlyn began to wonder why no one challenged him. Why didn’t anyone stop him, get in the way, report the stranger walking around the ship? It didn’t make any sense to her, now she had to go confront this wayward individual. Heading out, she left the other Security team members to watch the screens till she could collect Mister Warwick and left for Nine-Forward.

Shane savored the taste as the real alcohol of the Alberbaren whisky burned his throat. With a smile on his lips he motioned for the attendant to give him another. Breaking out of Sickbay was definitely worth it just to get this taste sensation back.

Shane felt her more than saw her out of his peripheral vision as a person approached. He didn’t want to see anyone, at least no yet. He had a whiskey to finish.

She would arrive shortly and walk up to him while he was still drinking. “The computer informed you to report to the Security Office ‘Lieutenant Lowe’. This isn’t the Security Office.”

  • Ensign Ashlyn Trenton
    Security, USS Europa

That was a distinctive voice. He recognized it because she had spent the evening with him…more or less. Busted! Abrams didn’t have to send goons, as she had a bloodhound. Warwick continued to stare straight ahead and nurse his drink. Time to see what Trenton was playing at.

“No, Miss Trenton, it most certainly is not. Does the Security Office have Alderbaren whiskey? You might be able to encourage folks to come visit your duty station if they had an incentive. You know, catching more flies with honey, and the like.”

He turned in his stool to face the blonde Security officer. “I was sitting in an empty Sickbay. I had no one to talk to. No access to the ship’s systems. I wasn’t even allowed to run tests on myself… Can you blame me for wanting to have some social interaction?”

Sensing a change in her demeanor he added, “So are you here on Abrams orders, or are you just following me?” He added with a wink.
- Warwick

Before she could reply, Shane continued. He patted the seat next to him and nodded for her to take a seat. “Have a drink with me.” Sensing hesitancy he softly added, “…please.”

“I’ve been alone for years. I have a sneaking suspicion that my best friend…” he paused for a moment, dropped his head and exhaled, “…No. Make that, my only friend may be missing or dead. And it’s my fault.”

“So, if you are hear to drag me off to the brig to spend even more time in solitary… at least share a drink with me.”

  • Warwick

((OOC: Apologies, busy holiday weeks. Things have been sorted out so I should be able to post more regularly again.))

Trenton took the seat next to Warwick’s, she wasn’t by any means a very social person, but she understood the desire for such things in others. “A good junior officer can anticipate the needs and desires of their superiors. I’m not here because Lieutenant Abrams sent me, but because she would have had she been aware of the situation. As it stands, the only thing she is aware of is that someone without proper authorization used the computer to locate her. Easy enough to clean up so she doesn’t have to stress about your inability to follow the rules.” There was a smirk on the junior officer’s face while she pulled out a bottle of water from the pack she always seems to carry with her. Casual observation would see it filled with ration bars, water, and a collection of PaDDs.

“You can tell her it was me. It’s one of my endearing qualities.” Shane added before taking another swig.

“Still on duty, but regardless of being on or off duty, I don’t drink. I used to live in a really bad place and water was the only thing I recognized enough to tell when someone was trying to take advantage of me. Just became habit that I don’t trust anything I can’t identify or shows signs of tampering.” Trenton gestured toward the standard tamper seal of the bottle before cracking it open and taking a drink from it.

“This is the part where I throw the book at you, I can understand you wanting to hasten the access so you can get out of sickbay, but why are you trying to do it under an alias?”

  • Ensign Ashlyn Trenton
    Security, USS Europa

“Simple enough of an answer.” He added, “Shane Warwick is dead. Killed by an Orion assassin about ten or eleven years ago.”
Trenton may not be drinking, but Shane knew he had better slow down. He gestured for the steward and when he arrived he asked for an unsweetened black ice tea, with pomegranate juice. “I knew that Carson Lowe was still active in the system, especially Europa’s system. Best way I could think of to gain some kid of access.”

“I promised you more answers back in Sickbay… so what do you want to know? What areas of my life do you want me to shed a light on? “

  • Warwick

The Ensign sighed and leaned back in the seat, unsatisfied with the situation she found herself in. “At this point, I don’t know. The identity you can use is a collection of well-conceived lies and your real identity is unsafe to use. There isn’t anything in any manual I’ve read or looked through that would prepare me for how to handle this. You’re not Starfleet Intelligence because if you were they’d have sent instructions shortly after you popped up on the scanners as identified. Flags would have gone off when I did my research on you. You’re just a huge unknown factor.” Trenton leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. “I don’t think there is anything I could ask you that I would get a straight answer for. Even if you did give me a straight answer, I don’t think there is anything I could do with any of the information you gave me. For example, were you married or have kids? Doesn’t matter, Shane Warwick is dead and Carson Lowe isn’t real.”

Ashlyn placed a comm badge on the counter in front of Warwick. “I could have given this to you at Security if you had chosen to come by, would have saved some trouble. It’ll grant you general guest access to social and educational areas, but none of the restricted areas. This way you can move about and feel less trapped until we can officially decide what to do with you.” Trenton took another pull from her bottled water. “Do you plan to solidify your identity yet, or are you going to keep it ambiguous for some reason?”

  • Ensign Ashlyn Trenton
    Security, USS Europa

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