04-14-2025, 02:43 PM
“Lockpicks, ma’am?” Rubicon asked as if she hadn’t heard right. “Like… physical ones?”
“Yep. If you can believe that in the year 24-whatever it is now,” Calleja replied evenly.
[Understood Chief.] Petty Officer 'Ziggy' Zh'kol's voice came back. [We’ll send the duty team with… ] there was a notable pause, [...some kind of lock picking paraphernalia.]
There was a faint smile on Mara’s lips as the channel closed. Actual physical locks that needed shaped metal keys were such a dated concept that she’d felt she had to explain it, and it had provoked the expected amount of cynicism in the replies she was getting.
Not my fault this is old tech. I ain’t the one tryin’ to fly this junker with thousand-year-old ideas of security.
Doyle’s answer to the Chief’s other question took rather longer, and the Midshipman looked genuinely uncomfortable as she spoke.
"I can get my hands dirty if you need it. Let's just hope you don't need to ask me to," she finished
Despite her reputation, Mara wasn’t made of stone, and she reached out to settle what she hoped was a reassuring hand on the other woman’s shoulder.
“Understood,” she said simply. “If you wanna talk about it once we’re back on Artemis, we can do. If you need some time to think about things, I get it. This ain’t a question that has a clean answer, so get back to me in your own time.”
The reappearance of Ju, Okehampton and the rest of the Engine Room team interrupted the moment. As expected, the Engineer was pretty much straight to business.
“Can I take a look at the lock?” Ju asked motioning to the lock she assumed was in question. “If we can’t find the keys maybe I can make something that will work.”
“Be my guest,” Mara replied, stepping aside to give the Korean woman some room to work.
The duty team were the next to arrive, and Zh’kol repaid some of Calleja’s lessons on bladework with a flask.
“Here, figured you’d be thirsty after ripping and tearing Klingons,” the Andorian said with a smirk.
“They kept gettin’ in our way,” Mara replied with a grin of her own before raising the flask to her lips and taking a long drink. She ignored Aitken’s antics and let the PO1 deal with him.
“Heard you’ve had no shortage of fun. Blood and guts, plus a stowaway,” Ziggy’s antennae leaned forward inquisitively.
“Yeah, a stowaway who’s now on the Artemis. Crawford wanted to deal with him herself.” Mara thought about trying to keep the identity a secret but dismissed the idea. Enough people knew already that word was probably already doing laps of Artemis. “It was Nathan Ramius. And yes, that Nathan Ramius. I hope for his sake he doesn’t do anythin’ else stupid ‘cause the mood the Captain’s been in lately, we’ll be cleanin’ bits of him off the transporter room walls for days.”
“Never a dull moment for you. How many Klingons did you take out anyway? I need to update the betting pool,” the Andorian replied.
“Put her down for 3,” Trev said, as his group came back. “We’ve got 3 Klingon fighters out there with 2 heads and 5 arms between them. No keys though.”
Mara’s expression was inscrutable. She didn’t approve of the betting pool, and hadn’t made a secret of the fact that the only reason she wasn’t cracking down on it was because she kept oversight of the current arrangement. Banning it would just drive it underground, not stop it.
“Hey Chief,” Ju called to Mara, “Something is happening, I think we got it unlocked.”
“Alright. Look lively, it’s work time,” Calleja barked to the assembled Security officers. “Han, step clear, I don’t want you getting caught in any crossfire. Keep an ape in armour between you and trouble.” There was a feral smile on her lips as she cracked the joke. “The rest of you, form up, weapons hot!”
The Security Chief went to don her helmet then remembered it was broken and hanging from her belt. She drew her bloodied machete and a type II phaser, and waved Trevathan up to take point.
“On 3. One. Two. Three!”
== Sorry it’s a bit long and disjointed. Been feeling rotten the last few days so had a lot to catch up on! Tags all round, and joining in the GM input request please. ==
“Yep. If you can believe that in the year 24-whatever it is now,” Calleja replied evenly.
[Understood Chief.] Petty Officer 'Ziggy' Zh'kol's voice came back. [We’ll send the duty team with… ] there was a notable pause, [...some kind of lock picking paraphernalia.]
There was a faint smile on Mara’s lips as the channel closed. Actual physical locks that needed shaped metal keys were such a dated concept that she’d felt she had to explain it, and it had provoked the expected amount of cynicism in the replies she was getting.
Not my fault this is old tech. I ain’t the one tryin’ to fly this junker with thousand-year-old ideas of security.
Doyle’s answer to the Chief’s other question took rather longer, and the Midshipman looked genuinely uncomfortable as she spoke.
"I can get my hands dirty if you need it. Let's just hope you don't need to ask me to," she finished
Despite her reputation, Mara wasn’t made of stone, and she reached out to settle what she hoped was a reassuring hand on the other woman’s shoulder.
“Understood,” she said simply. “If you wanna talk about it once we’re back on Artemis, we can do. If you need some time to think about things, I get it. This ain’t a question that has a clean answer, so get back to me in your own time.”
The reappearance of Ju, Okehampton and the rest of the Engine Room team interrupted the moment. As expected, the Engineer was pretty much straight to business.
“Can I take a look at the lock?” Ju asked motioning to the lock she assumed was in question. “If we can’t find the keys maybe I can make something that will work.”
“Be my guest,” Mara replied, stepping aside to give the Korean woman some room to work.
The duty team were the next to arrive, and Zh’kol repaid some of Calleja’s lessons on bladework with a flask.
“Here, figured you’d be thirsty after ripping and tearing Klingons,” the Andorian said with a smirk.
“They kept gettin’ in our way,” Mara replied with a grin of her own before raising the flask to her lips and taking a long drink. She ignored Aitken’s antics and let the PO1 deal with him.
“Heard you’ve had no shortage of fun. Blood and guts, plus a stowaway,” Ziggy’s antennae leaned forward inquisitively.
“Yeah, a stowaway who’s now on the Artemis. Crawford wanted to deal with him herself.” Mara thought about trying to keep the identity a secret but dismissed the idea. Enough people knew already that word was probably already doing laps of Artemis. “It was Nathan Ramius. And yes, that Nathan Ramius. I hope for his sake he doesn’t do anythin’ else stupid ‘cause the mood the Captain’s been in lately, we’ll be cleanin’ bits of him off the transporter room walls for days.”
“Never a dull moment for you. How many Klingons did you take out anyway? I need to update the betting pool,” the Andorian replied.
“Put her down for 3,” Trev said, as his group came back. “We’ve got 3 Klingon fighters out there with 2 heads and 5 arms between them. No keys though.”
Mara’s expression was inscrutable. She didn’t approve of the betting pool, and hadn’t made a secret of the fact that the only reason she wasn’t cracking down on it was because she kept oversight of the current arrangement. Banning it would just drive it underground, not stop it.
“Hey Chief,” Ju called to Mara, “Something is happening, I think we got it unlocked.”
“Alright. Look lively, it’s work time,” Calleja barked to the assembled Security officers. “Han, step clear, I don’t want you getting caught in any crossfire. Keep an ape in armour between you and trouble.” There was a feral smile on her lips as she cracked the joke. “The rest of you, form up, weapons hot!”
The Security Chief went to don her helmet then remembered it was broken and hanging from her belt. She drew her bloodied machete and a type II phaser, and waved Trevathan up to take point.
“On 3. One. Two. Three!”
== Sorry it’s a bit long and disjointed. Been feeling rotten the last few days so had a lot to catch up on! Tags all round, and joining in the GM input request please. ==