08-08-2024, 12:50 AM
The results of the scans were troubling - not to the safety of the Away Team, but to Art’s conscience. Things lit up at the center of the cargo bay, under the floor, which would be (in Art’s opinion), the most obvious place to stash something. Art was thankful for how quickly their Engineering Midshipman was able to deactivate whatever kept the cloaked/holographic plating hidden, and she subsequently took a look inside.
No one there.
But the compartment was 8 feet by an estimated 25 feet, and 3 feet deep. This was undoubtedly a secret hold, and it was filled with crate after crate. What troubled Art was the Starfleet insignia on it; specifically, Medical’s logo. She was admittedly slightly relieved that it wasn’t Security’s, but now she had about twelve more questions for the “good Captain.” A closer look showed sleepsacks, and rations. Art was now frowning.
The COS stood up, and looked at her scans again. Now easily-spotted on the scans, there were half a dozen of these compartments in all. She looked uneasily towards Commander Jensen, not wanting to say her thoughts out loud. “No one’s in here.” She said, her voice flat. Continuing, she lowered her voice to a whisper: “There were Talarians, but no one’s here now.” She was glad that he was next to her, looking over her shoulder, regardless of how that may look to others.
“Well, it seems there wasn't anything here, after all!” Jensen announced, almost jovially. And to the issue of contraband medical supplies: “Normally, I'd have insisted on taking those supplies back with me, but that takes time we don't have right now.” He was suddenly in a hurry; they were all suddenly in a hurry, and the atmosphere had changed. It was as if they had asked him for his papers, and the man had revealed that he was an undercover agent, and they were about to blow his cover.
He spoke quietly and quickly to the ship’s Captain, and then told the Yeager to get them out of there. Art’s eyes looked softer on the man now, and she felt her throat tighten as she waited for their transporter technician to grab them. She wanted questions answered, she wanted to help, and she wanted… more. But she was not a medical officer, and this was not the time or place. Who knew why Braggins ordered them to investigate this ship - and now, she would be keeping any meddling Starfleet hands from it. Art cast an uneasy glance at the First Officer as the transporter light engulfed them, and for a brief moment (before her Klingon senses took over and she steeled herself), she wanted to hold his hand.
>> Elsewhere! >>
No one there.
But the compartment was 8 feet by an estimated 25 feet, and 3 feet deep. This was undoubtedly a secret hold, and it was filled with crate after crate. What troubled Art was the Starfleet insignia on it; specifically, Medical’s logo. She was admittedly slightly relieved that it wasn’t Security’s, but now she had about twelve more questions for the “good Captain.” A closer look showed sleepsacks, and rations. Art was now frowning.
The COS stood up, and looked at her scans again. Now easily-spotted on the scans, there were half a dozen of these compartments in all. She looked uneasily towards Commander Jensen, not wanting to say her thoughts out loud. “No one’s in here.” She said, her voice flat. Continuing, she lowered her voice to a whisper: “There were Talarians, but no one’s here now.” She was glad that he was next to her, looking over her shoulder, regardless of how that may look to others.
“Well, it seems there wasn't anything here, after all!” Jensen announced, almost jovially. And to the issue of contraband medical supplies: “Normally, I'd have insisted on taking those supplies back with me, but that takes time we don't have right now.” He was suddenly in a hurry; they were all suddenly in a hurry, and the atmosphere had changed. It was as if they had asked him for his papers, and the man had revealed that he was an undercover agent, and they were about to blow his cover.
He spoke quietly and quickly to the ship’s Captain, and then told the Yeager to get them out of there. Art’s eyes looked softer on the man now, and she felt her throat tighten as she waited for their transporter technician to grab them. She wanted questions answered, she wanted to help, and she wanted… more. But she was not a medical officer, and this was not the time or place. Who knew why Braggins ordered them to investigate this ship - and now, she would be keeping any meddling Starfleet hands from it. Art cast an uneasy glance at the First Officer as the transporter light engulfed them, and for a brief moment (before her Klingon senses took over and she steeled herself), she wanted to hold his hand.
>> Elsewhere! >>