03-18-2025, 12:55 AM
== Bit of a catch-up!
Cargo Bay ==
Mara exhaled slowly as she watched Ramius depart to whatever fate awaited him on Artemis.
50/50 Crawford either shoots him the second he appears, or mothers him to within an inch of his life. And if all the jokes and rumours are even half right, I’m not sure which is a worse fate.
She looked down at Doyle as the new arrival checked out Celcis and J’dara. The Chief had noticed the reticence earlier and noted it, but for now at least the Midshipman was the best option she had for evaluating the two unconscious officers.
It don’t look bad, but better be safe than sorry.
“If it’s more than cuts and bruises, best ship them back to Artemis. Comms and transporters are workin’ fine and we got a whole department full of interferin’ lunatics in teal that can take over,” Mara said, a wry smile on her lips. “Bance, stay with Doyle just in case. When you’re done, come find me. I gotta go see if I can open this door. If for no other reason than the Cap’n might need somewhere to bury that guy’s body when she’s done with him.”
As she headed towards the hidden entrance, Calleja swished her machete through the air to flick off the excess blood, wiped the blade on her leg armour and then sheathed the weapon. It was days like this that she felt vindicated in her career choice, however difficult it had been (and sometimes still was) for her to adjust to Star Fleet norms. She had made short work of 3 Klingon crew members, and was one lucky shot off her tactics taking the cargo bay painlessly. Now she got to see if her ‘upbringing’ in an urban hellhole had another pay-off.
“Hey Trev,” Mara said as she reached the other group. “What we dealin’ with?”
“That.” The squad leader pointed to the lock. “Old tech but enough to keep us out.”
Calleja dropped to one knee and pulled a knife from her belt. She prised off the cover and had a good long look at the wiring.
“Oh yeah. I’ve seen these,” she said. “Once upon a time they were bleedin’ edge, but then isolinear chips happened. You can basically cut the actual locking mechanism out of the circuit if you know where it is. And I spent enough years gettin’ in places I wasn’t supposed to be in a place that’s probably a hundred years behind Federation tech, that I think I remember how this goes. Cover me in case this works and there’s someone on the other side.”
She followed the wiring back, then grabbed hold and pulled until she had a substantial length of the loom out in the open. The Klingons clearly believed in redundancy as there were plenty of cables that didn’t seem to go anywhere. Mara cut a decent length off one of them, then stripped the ends back to bare wire and twisted them into hooks.
She studied the exposed circuit again, and then gently hooked one end around the power feed at one end of the locking mechanism.
“Here goes nothin’...” she murmured as she hooked the other end of her shunt cable around the feed out of the lock.
Whenever she’d done this back on Bandar, there had been 3 possible outcomes. A silent ‘clunk’ as the lock disengaged with its power reduced, a shower of sparks and then the door opening a sliver as something blew under power it wasn’t supposed to be receiving, or, as had happened one time, she accidentally electrified the whole door and blew two of her friends ten feet back down the street. Ganger lock-picking was mostly trial and error, and hoping you lived long enough to learn from the errors.
At least these gloves don’t conduct current. Or I wouldn’t be half as confident fuckin’ around with this as I am.
== Tag Rubicon! And GM input please. Is Mara able to get the door open? If you’re feeling benevolent and she can, what’s waiting for us on the other side?
Please don’t laugh too hard at my attempts at electronic engineering. There’s a reason I normally leave all this stuff to Omdor / Elias…
==
Cargo Bay ==
Mara exhaled slowly as she watched Ramius depart to whatever fate awaited him on Artemis.
50/50 Crawford either shoots him the second he appears, or mothers him to within an inch of his life. And if all the jokes and rumours are even half right, I’m not sure which is a worse fate.
She looked down at Doyle as the new arrival checked out Celcis and J’dara. The Chief had noticed the reticence earlier and noted it, but for now at least the Midshipman was the best option she had for evaluating the two unconscious officers.
It don’t look bad, but better be safe than sorry.
“If it’s more than cuts and bruises, best ship them back to Artemis. Comms and transporters are workin’ fine and we got a whole department full of interferin’ lunatics in teal that can take over,” Mara said, a wry smile on her lips. “Bance, stay with Doyle just in case. When you’re done, come find me. I gotta go see if I can open this door. If for no other reason than the Cap’n might need somewhere to bury that guy’s body when she’s done with him.”
As she headed towards the hidden entrance, Calleja swished her machete through the air to flick off the excess blood, wiped the blade on her leg armour and then sheathed the weapon. It was days like this that she felt vindicated in her career choice, however difficult it had been (and sometimes still was) for her to adjust to Star Fleet norms. She had made short work of 3 Klingon crew members, and was one lucky shot off her tactics taking the cargo bay painlessly. Now she got to see if her ‘upbringing’ in an urban hellhole had another pay-off.
“Hey Trev,” Mara said as she reached the other group. “What we dealin’ with?”
“That.” The squad leader pointed to the lock. “Old tech but enough to keep us out.”
Calleja dropped to one knee and pulled a knife from her belt. She prised off the cover and had a good long look at the wiring.
“Oh yeah. I’ve seen these,” she said. “Once upon a time they were bleedin’ edge, but then isolinear chips happened. You can basically cut the actual locking mechanism out of the circuit if you know where it is. And I spent enough years gettin’ in places I wasn’t supposed to be in a place that’s probably a hundred years behind Federation tech, that I think I remember how this goes. Cover me in case this works and there’s someone on the other side.”
She followed the wiring back, then grabbed hold and pulled until she had a substantial length of the loom out in the open. The Klingons clearly believed in redundancy as there were plenty of cables that didn’t seem to go anywhere. Mara cut a decent length off one of them, then stripped the ends back to bare wire and twisted them into hooks.
She studied the exposed circuit again, and then gently hooked one end around the power feed at one end of the locking mechanism.
“Here goes nothin’...” she murmured as she hooked the other end of her shunt cable around the feed out of the lock.
Whenever she’d done this back on Bandar, there had been 3 possible outcomes. A silent ‘clunk’ as the lock disengaged with its power reduced, a shower of sparks and then the door opening a sliver as something blew under power it wasn’t supposed to be receiving, or, as had happened one time, she accidentally electrified the whole door and blew two of her friends ten feet back down the street. Ganger lock-picking was mostly trial and error, and hoping you lived long enough to learn from the errors.
At least these gloves don’t conduct current. Or I wouldn’t be half as confident fuckin’ around with this as I am.
== Tag Rubicon! And GM input please. Is Mara able to get the door open? If you’re feeling benevolent and she can, what’s waiting for us on the other side?
Please don’t laugh too hard at my attempts at electronic engineering. There’s a reason I normally leave all this stuff to Omdor / Elias…
==