11-17-2025, 12:12 AM
Mara took the opportunity presented by the brief delay to treat Hally to report back to the ship.
“Calleja to Artemis. Contested landing but we’ve neutralised the garrison. One minor injury, to Maxas-Darl, but looks like Mayfair has it in hand. About to investigate the base itself. Lifesign readings are dropping off everywhere so something’s happened. Will report once we know what that is.”
With the teams reformed and reassembled, the Security officers led the way as they passed the perimeter fence. The Security Chief hadn’t relaxed at all even though the base’s defenders lay face-down in the dust. She still expected vigilance until the moment everyone was back aboard Artemis and this whole debacle was behind them.
When her team entered the building, Mara slung her rifle across her back and drew her type II, keeping a hand on the hilt of the machete at her belt. It was an old habit - she was just more comfortable with lighter weapons at close quarters.
It didn’t take long to find the holding pen itself. The scene itself was one that the Security Chief knew was going to haunt her for some time. The Klingons had, as far as she could tell, abandoned the clones and left them to die, and they’d done this some time ago. There were bodies everywhere, a few survivors clustered around the edges of the room and warily watching the new arrivals.
"Please, don't hurt us." The speaker was an emaciated Vorta.
“All personnel, do not cross the line into that pen. Robin, that’s a direct order, and I will drag you back by your belt if you make me,” Mara said sternly into the comm. “I know you want to help but we need to make sure this is safe first. Tell me what you can of their condition from here. Svenson, check for weapons with Howland, improvised or otherwise. Vedlar, watch the door. Omdor, do we have any functional systems here? And Maxas-Darl, contact Artemis, advise them of the situation.”
[Miller to Calleja, the lab appears to still be in decent shape, but we have non-functional machines, components removed, and other equipment strewn about, we've also found the command/control post and a locked door that possibly leads to what might be a refrigeration unit, will keep you updated.]
“Noted. We got survivors here, looks like the Klingons left them to their fate. Calleja out.”
Having issued her orders, Mara took a deep breath of her suit’s air supply before reaching up and removing her helmet, leaving her earpiece in place. The smell hit her like a full-blooded uppercut to the nose, but she made absolutely sure that her expression didn’t so much as flicker, even as mentally she recoiled from the stench of rot and waste.
It didn’t even smell this bad at home…
“We’re not Klingons, we’re Star Fleet. I’m Lieutenant Calleja of the USS Artemis,” Mara said, making sure the survivors could see she was human, even though the fierce Bandaran wasn’t exactly a friendly face. “Pretty sure I can guess what’s gone on here. But tell me anyway. How long have you been here? What happened to the rest of you?”
Dark eyes constantly moved from clone to clone as the Security Chief waited for an answer, from friend or potential foe.
== Tags all! GM input please on the clones’ response? ==
“Calleja to Artemis. Contested landing but we’ve neutralised the garrison. One minor injury, to Maxas-Darl, but looks like Mayfair has it in hand. About to investigate the base itself. Lifesign readings are dropping off everywhere so something’s happened. Will report once we know what that is.”
With the teams reformed and reassembled, the Security officers led the way as they passed the perimeter fence. The Security Chief hadn’t relaxed at all even though the base’s defenders lay face-down in the dust. She still expected vigilance until the moment everyone was back aboard Artemis and this whole debacle was behind them.
When her team entered the building, Mara slung her rifle across her back and drew her type II, keeping a hand on the hilt of the machete at her belt. It was an old habit - she was just more comfortable with lighter weapons at close quarters.
It didn’t take long to find the holding pen itself. The scene itself was one that the Security Chief knew was going to haunt her for some time. The Klingons had, as far as she could tell, abandoned the clones and left them to die, and they’d done this some time ago. There were bodies everywhere, a few survivors clustered around the edges of the room and warily watching the new arrivals.
"Please, don't hurt us." The speaker was an emaciated Vorta.
“All personnel, do not cross the line into that pen. Robin, that’s a direct order, and I will drag you back by your belt if you make me,” Mara said sternly into the comm. “I know you want to help but we need to make sure this is safe first. Tell me what you can of their condition from here. Svenson, check for weapons with Howland, improvised or otherwise. Vedlar, watch the door. Omdor, do we have any functional systems here? And Maxas-Darl, contact Artemis, advise them of the situation.”
[Miller to Calleja, the lab appears to still be in decent shape, but we have non-functional machines, components removed, and other equipment strewn about, we've also found the command/control post and a locked door that possibly leads to what might be a refrigeration unit, will keep you updated.]
“Noted. We got survivors here, looks like the Klingons left them to their fate. Calleja out.”
Having issued her orders, Mara took a deep breath of her suit’s air supply before reaching up and removing her helmet, leaving her earpiece in place. The smell hit her like a full-blooded uppercut to the nose, but she made absolutely sure that her expression didn’t so much as flicker, even as mentally she recoiled from the stench of rot and waste.
It didn’t even smell this bad at home…
“We’re not Klingons, we’re Star Fleet. I’m Lieutenant Calleja of the USS Artemis,” Mara said, making sure the survivors could see she was human, even though the fierce Bandaran wasn’t exactly a friendly face. “Pretty sure I can guess what’s gone on here. But tell me anyway. How long have you been here? What happened to the rest of you?”
Dark eyes constantly moved from clone to clone as the Security Chief waited for an answer, from friend or potential foe.
== Tags all! GM input please on the clones’ response? ==