12-27-2025, 06:06 PM
==I have been trying to sit down write this post for more than a week T_T ==
As the computer listed the names of Trills and partial-Trills, Art nodded gently to herself after every one, as if ticking them off a list. Then she frowned: [Trill life sign without commbadge last detected on Impulse Deck.]
“I sent someone to go check out that maintenance hatch…” She muttered to herself, turning to walk out of the room. Amidst all the chaos however, she couldn’t remember who she had sent. And had they made it there before one of the race’s sixteen anomalies turned them into different people?
Midshipman Wright then showed her the lone commbadge found in the room. “If he left in a hurry,” the Middie said, “leaving it behind doesn’t make sense.” Art disagreed, but then, Wright hadn’t had to deal with the holier-than-thou Ambassidorial Assistant, or whatever his real title was. “If it’s here, it feels deliberate — or it means he didn’t have a choice.”
Art just frowned, feeling very much that it had been deliberate. One of her Petty Officers echoed those thoughts.
“Tomer is a ghost. Either this room has been scrubbed on the microscopic level, or he has never been here. At all.”
Wright moved her PADD so Art could see the screen; “Chief… I’m seeing an unauthorized maintenance hatch alert here. It has the hatch ID and section.”
The Security Chief put a hand on the device, tilting it only slightly to improve the angle. She asked about forwarding on to the main complex, and Art shook her head.
“No,” she said, looking up and nodding to the Petty Officer. “We’ll go ourselves.” Braggins hadn’t yet replied to them; no doubt reveling in winning the race and making a good first impression on this new species.
>> Anc. Locations >>
As the computer listed the names of Trills and partial-Trills, Art nodded gently to herself after every one, as if ticking them off a list. Then she frowned: [Trill life sign without commbadge last detected on Impulse Deck.]
“I sent someone to go check out that maintenance hatch…” She muttered to herself, turning to walk out of the room. Amidst all the chaos however, she couldn’t remember who she had sent. And had they made it there before one of the race’s sixteen anomalies turned them into different people?
Midshipman Wright then showed her the lone commbadge found in the room. “If he left in a hurry,” the Middie said, “leaving it behind doesn’t make sense.” Art disagreed, but then, Wright hadn’t had to deal with the holier-than-thou Ambassidorial Assistant, or whatever his real title was. “If it’s here, it feels deliberate — or it means he didn’t have a choice.”
Art just frowned, feeling very much that it had been deliberate. One of her Petty Officers echoed those thoughts.
“Tomer is a ghost. Either this room has been scrubbed on the microscopic level, or he has never been here. At all.”
Wright moved her PADD so Art could see the screen; “Chief… I’m seeing an unauthorized maintenance hatch alert here. It has the hatch ID and section.”
The Security Chief put a hand on the device, tilting it only slightly to improve the angle. She asked about forwarding on to the main complex, and Art shook her head.
“No,” she said, looking up and nodding to the Petty Officer. “We’ll go ourselves.” Braggins hadn’t yet replied to them; no doubt reveling in winning the race and making a good first impression on this new species.
>> Anc. Locations >>