USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

ON: <Hotel Direidi, Basement, 1500>

Peters felt a yell escape his lips as he fell down the garbage chute. While the fall seemed to last a long time, he knew it could only be a matter of seconds. Finally he hit the bottom, rolling. He felt a few things break under him as he rolled off the trash pile.

He climbed out of the compactor and landed on the floor in a crouch. A moment later Grayson was next to him. "Couldn't you at least have tried to find a laundry chute? This stuff STINKS!" Peters protested, looking mournfully at his once-fresh uniform.

Mark dismissed Peters' words with a simple wave. "No time for that, Peters. We need to get out of here now." He started moving towards the exit (he had memorized the hotel layout), "And for the record, the laundry chute was too narrow to attempt such stunt. Next time we're being pursued by security officers in an Alien World, I'll let you choose our method of escape", said him, sarcastic.

They quickly reached the exit door. Mark kicked the door open and they reached the streets. "Alright, Peters. Which way?"

Peters quickly consulted his tricorder screen, then pointed. "Left. We go to the end of the block, then turn west... 2 kilometers in that direction and we'll reach the warehouses. Just promise me if we manage to shake the cops, we'll stop and find clean clothes, ok ?"

Grayson snorted. "It's obvious no one never told you that you stunk. And we're going to escape the... What did you call them? Oh, yes, cops. If I recall the city layout, we can hide in a garbage depot southwest of here."

Peters went white as a horrified look popped onto his face. "Oh, that'll be swell... at least there they won't be able to find us with their noses..."

Seeing Peters' expression, Mark couldn't contain a laugh. "I'm joking, Peters. It's not a garbage depot, it's just an abandoned building. I left some my equipment there. An Intel officer must have a secure place to hide more... sensitive equipment. There's some civilians clothes there."

"Well, that was very, umm, prepared of you. Did you plan to ride down the garbage chute at the first opportunity, or do you just normally bring non-standard clothing?" Peters glanced sideways at Grayson as he spoke.

As they jogged through the streets, Mark spoke, calmly. "Lesson number one, Peters: Never go to a mission without having a plan B. The captain told me I couldn't go undercover, but, that didn't mean the situation couldn't change, so I brought my stuff."

"I see. Well, I won't tell if you don't." Peters gave a wry smile as he motioned that they should take a right at the next junction.

"I never tell anything, anyway", replied Mark, smiling back.

As they reached the abandoned building, Mark checked his own tricorder. "No one entered the building since I left my things. We're clear from pursuit."

They climbed the house stairs and Mark grabbed his bag, hidden under the wooden floor. He threw a civilian clothing to Peters and grabbed one to himself. "We need to hurry, there's always a chance of the security forces being better than it looked. We may have only a few minutes."

Peters nodded as he caught the clothes, then hurriedly changed. He slipped into the bathroom and was happy to find the water on, so he was able to wash the filth off his face and hands, thus relieving himself of the last of the stench from the trash heap. He went back into the room Grayson was in and looked about. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Mark nodded and started checking his equipment. Sensor masking, fake credentials and all the trinkets a spy had. He smirked. Things were going to get interesting. It was good to be back doing infiltration work.

Peters looked out the window to check the streets. No signs of any uniforms. No signs of any people at all. He didn't like it. He turned back to Grayson, "I don't like this... it's way too quiet outside, even if this is an abandoned street."

Grayson got up quickly and looked at the window. "Dammit, looks like someone's setting up a perimeter. They're trying to box us in." He grabbed his bag and started to descend the stairs. "Come on, Peters, there's a weak wall in the east side of the house. If we push it firmly, we'll get a quick exit."

Both men reached the east wall and Mark patted the wall until he found the weak section. "Here. Alright, let's use our shoulders to bring down." He stopped for a second and looked at Peters. "Unless you have a better idea...?"

Peters looked at Grayson and grinned. "Well, we could always throw furniture at it, but I don't see anything left in this house small enough to throw easy, so let's do it."

Mark nodded and both men threw their shoulders against the wall. One time. Two times. In the third time, there was a softly crack and the wall collapsed. Grayson pushed the rest of the debris out and jumped outside. Peters followed him. "Now, Peters, which way is the warehouse?", asked Mark.

Peters looked at his tricorder for a second, just to make sure he was oriented the way he thought he was. After a second he pointed to the right. "Half a klick that way, then a few dozen meters west."

Mark instantly was in movement. "We can't waste more time. Let's go."

The officers ran through back alleys, gaining time by jumping over some fences. Mark had to admire Peter's stamina. It wasn't bad for an engineer. When they finally arrived at the location, Mark felt a little disappointed. From outside, the warehouse looked empty.

"Let's enter and check inside", said him.

Peters nodded and grabbed ahold of the doorknob. It wouldn't budge. He jiggled it a little. Still nothing. He jiggled it again and gave it a yank. Nothing. "Well, we're not getting in that way. It's locked up tight."

Mark pushed Peters aside."Amateurs", said him under his breath. Out loud, "Watch a professional work, Peters." With some difficulty, Grayson started to pick lock, only to discover that the lock mechanism was very advanced in comparison to others on the planet.

Peters looked back over his shoulder and froze. "Ah, Grayson, slight problem. We've been sighted."

Grayson froze too. He discreetly turned his head to look what exactly was the problem and saw two security officers heading his way. He stood and turned around. "Hello, officers. Good afternoon." To Peters, he whispered. "Prepare to run. You'll know when."

Continuing his little act, Mark pretended to look confused. "Thank God, you're here, officer. I think I lost my keys. See?" Grayson pretended to show the keys . The officers looked at Mark's hand and in that point, he opened his hand. A bright flash blinded the officers and Mark pushed Peters. "Go, go, go", said him.

Peters turned to run away from the approaching security officers. He didn't get more than a dozen meters before more of them appeared ahead of them. The nearest one shouted, "Halt! Stop in the name of the Law!"

Peters stopped in his tracks and saw Grayson come up next to him out of the corner of his eye. He waited for the police to come closer. Finally one of them who wore what looked like an old Earth Constable's hat spoke to them again, "Well, boys, what might you be doing in this area?"

Peters thought for a moment and couldn't come up with an answer. He didn't hear Grayson saying anything either. Finally, in sheer desperation he waved his hand in front of the Constable, saying, "We are not the men you're looking for."

Grayson's mood that was already dark, got darker. Making an effort not to punch Peters, Mark threw a nasty look at him. "What the Hell was that!?"

"I don't know, but it didn't work," Peters whispered back, watching some of the officers suppress laughs as the Constable's expression grew darker. "I'm not sure," he continued, "But I think we might be in trouble."

"No, really? Why do you think that?", replied Mark in an acid tone.

The Constable waved to his men. Grayson and Peters were surrounded by officials. Mark thought about resisting to arrest, but gave up the idea, after glancing Peters. The odds were already against them, but after Peters last stunt, the odds were close to zero. Mark pictured him fighting and Peters waving his hand saying 'You don't want to hurt me'.

"It's all your fault", said Grayson to Peters as they were hauled to the city's jail. "You amateur".

OFF: A JP by

Lieutenant Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

<<Hotel Direidi>>
<Grounds, 1442, Day 3>

Brice was looking at the tricorder intently, apparently deep in thought abotu something. Personally, Amanda didn't have any clue about the wonderful EM readings, aside from what she barely remebered from basic operations. Closing her own tricorder, she took a look around the yard. There wasn't much out there...just some trees and benches.

"Now this is weird."

Amanda turned around to see Thundera scanning the brick a few meters down from where Brice as scanning.

"What is it?"

"I'm reading some sort of organic material embedded in this brick."

Amanda quirked an eyebrow before taking out her own tricorder and scanning the same area. Sure enough there were traces of organic matter. She knelt down to take a closer look at the brick.

"What do you think it is?"

Amanda looked at the ground....and then noticed something that had escaped her attention before.

"Find something?" Thundera asked.

"Take a look at this," Amanda said, pointing toward some dead grass. "All around this place everything is picture perfect and now we have dead grass...dead grass next to what appear to be traces of organic matter....if I had to take a guess I would say that something happened in this area."

"But what?" Thundera asked. "No one reported seeing anything odd?"

"I don't know yet...although there was this one time when I was in the Marines that some pirates disguised a doorway with a forcefield that broke down the cement it was on...I would think we would be able to pick up a power source or something though."

"The EM readings!" Thundera snapped.

"Darkhelm to Captian Kersare, you might want to get out here sir."

OFF:

<Direidi Jail Cell, Planetary Police Headquarters, 1545>

Peters had to fight from laughing as the police officers dragged them into the "jail." He'd seen more advanced confinement systems being used on pre-warp worlds. The jail looked like something right out of early 20th century earth... complete with sliding bars.

Peters was shoved unceremoniously into the nearest cell to the door and the bars were slammed shut as he turned around. He watched the Constable lock the cell with an old-fashioned key, which he then pocketed and walked away. He then turned to Grayson, who had been shoved into the cell ahead of him.

"Well," he said, "at least there's no risk of electrocuting ourselves by touching the forcefield... but there's also no way to use my commbadge to take the forcefield down... pity, it worked so well last time."

Mark looked at Peters. "I think you already did enough with 'waving hand' stunt, Peters", said him. He looked around the cell. "I could pick the lock, but what good that would do? They already know who we are and escape custody will provoke a diplomatic incident", continued him. "This is ridiculous. We wouldn't be here if wasn't for you", complained him.

"Must you be so negative all the time?" Peters asked, flopping himself on the bed. "We were caught anyway, all I did was provide a little entertainment for our... hosts. I'm sure this is all just part of some scheme on their part to confuse and befuddle us."

"I'm negative all the time!?", repeated Grayson, angrily. "Listen, sonny, I'm not here to entertain these guys. I'm here to do a mission and because of you, I'm here, locked up in a damn cell. To make matters worse... I'm locked up WITH you. Now, tell me, why shouldn't I be negative? We're in here because you decided to wave your hand!"

Peters leaned forward, fully serious for the first time since they'd been captured. "No, we're here because they want us here. I'm still wearing my commbadge; they know we're Starfleet personnel. Now, I see two options... We can sit here and moan about the inequity of it all, or we can try and escape and get on with what we're supposed to be doing. Personally, I don't plan on sitting here and complaining."

A thought suddenly came into his mind and he calmed down. "Unfortunately," he continued, "the last time I ended up in a cell was a far different circumstance, far more life-threatening, and a situation where the equipment I had on hand was a bit more useful. So if you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Mark threw a furious glare at Peters, but controlled himself not to reply to the engineer's rebuke. Instead, he approached the cell door lock. He crouched and took off two small pieces of metal that were hidden on the side of his shoes. He showed the long and thin metal pieces to Peters. "What do you call this?", asked him.

Peters looked at the two pieces of metal skeptically. "Scrap metal?"

"Well, you call it that and I call it 'Freedom'", said Grayson. With little effort, he started picking the lock. Without looking at Peters, Mark snorted. "Stop glaring, Peters. I told before: Never go to a mission without a plan B. Well... Call this a Plan C."

"And if Plan C doesn't work? Then what, do we skip to Plan D?" Still, Peters had to admit, at least to himself, that it was better than sitting here and doing nothing.

The cell door opened easily and Mark looked at Peters. "I think Plan C it's going to work. Now, should I leave you behind or not?", asked him, half joking, half serious.

Peters sighed and rolled his eyes. He stood up and walked out of the cell, then turned and looked at Grayson. "OK . we're out of the cell... any idea where we should go?"

For the first time, Mark looked uncertain. This jail didn't appear in the city schematic he had studied, so he had no idea which way to go. But, of course, he wouldn't let Peters know that. "I know this place like the palm of my hand, Peters", lied him. "Let's go left", said him walking towards that direction. "Try not to make any noise", he admonished.

As they turned the corner, Mark kicked a metal bucket. The thing rolled several meters until stopped at the feet of a Direidi security officer. The officer looked the bucket at his feet then raised his eyes to them. An evil smile appeared on the security officer face.

"Whoops," was all Mark said.

Peters smacked his palm to his forehead. "Sure, plan C is going WONDERFULLY! Don't make any noise... why, I'm glad you thought of that so I didn't go and, oh, I don't know, kick a bucket?!"

Peters took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "So, now what, oh brilliant one?"

If a look could kill, Peters would have died several times. That was how Grayson looked at him. "I have an excellent plan, Mr. Peters. RUN!!!!"

Mark sprinted towards the opposite direction, only to find another three Direidi Officers standing at the end of the corridor. He stopped and put his hands on his face. "That's really not my day", muttered him.

Peters ran straight ahead, ducking around the officer in the hall before slamming full tilt into another one. He staggered back to regain his footing, then looked up... and up... and up...

"Hello, officer. I didn't know they hired brick walls for guard jobs around these parts," he quipped as the officer grabbed him by the collar and started marching him back to the cell.

OFF: This post has been brought to you by the letter P

Yet another JP With

Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche

<<Room 312>>
<1430, Day 3>

Jason was waiting to hear back from Hunt when it started to happen again. He might have gotten a curse word or two out but that was about it before blackness swallowed him up.

<<Unknown Federation Starship>>
<Stardate Unknown>

Jason's world came back into view...although this time he was standing at the railing of what looked like an Intrepid class starship. Looking around him he could see the lights in the muted tone that signaled they were about to go to battle. He looked to his left to see himself occupying the command chair with Commander pips on.

Its happening again...what is going on here?

Then he started talking.

"Status?"

"Alliance fleet reports that everyone is in position, Horde ships are forming up on us though, detecting fighter launches from the surface."

He saw himself nod and then look back at the screen...watching as the rising battle fleet floated around an orb that looked all to familiar.

My god, thats Earth.

Seconds later energy blasts began to rock the ship, nearly sending both Jason's too the ground.

"They've entered weapons range!"

"Attack pattern delta two, lets get moving."

And then slowly the bridge faded away as the battle began...

<<Room 312>>
<1433, Day 3>

"Mr. Barrett?"

Jason blinked his eyes, looking up to find Treharne standing over him. He looked concerned, not that Jason would have blamed him. He knew that Darkhelm would be hearing about this little fainting spell.

"Um...what happened?"

"You blacked out...just kinda of fell out of the chair, are you ok?"

"I think so....what did commander Hunt have to say?"

OFF:

Previously on Star Trek: Malinche:

"Darkhelm to Captian Kersare, you might want to get out here sir."

And now, the continuation:

<<Hotel Direidi, Basement, 1445, Day 3>>

Isabel heard Amanda's voice over the comm badge, "Commander, what's going on?"

"I believe we've found something," came the reply.

Well, finding things was good...at least if they knew what they were... Isabel responded, "What exactly have you found?"

"There seems to be some dead grass next to what appears to be traces of organic matter, which is embedded in brick. Thomas, Thundera, and I think it could be some form of doorway with a forcefield," Amanda said.

Isabel quirked an eyebrow, curioser and curiouser. "I assume you have evidence of this?"

Amanda replied, "Absolutely, we have the readings right here, and we've also found some EM readings, which could be powering it. You should take a look."

"Not right now, Doctor. Chief Soren, Lieutenant Sovereign, and I need to finish our investi-" Isabel began.

"Sovereign? Who's that?" Amanda sounded a bit surprised, or confused...

"Our new Chief Science Officer. You know how StarFleet loves to send me new officers without telling me first," Isabel explained.

Amanda's voice came through, "Yes, I know. How would you like us to proceed?"

Isabel paused, thinking a moment before saying, "Get as much information as you can and bring it to the meeting. We'll see what everyone's come up with, try to piece it together somehow, then investigate further."

OFF: Tag Darkhelm/Thomas (Thundera's on ELOA for now)

<<Hallway>>
<<1430, Day 3>>

Mason became concerned over Thomas?s tone, he left final instructions for the security personnel with Rayne following behind.

?Report Thomas?? stated Mason rushing not giving himself time for a breath.


>>"We found a strange spike in the EM band near the basement on the buildings north side."<<

?Keep your tricorders locked onto to it. We can?t risk using the transporter to beam us to it. I am on my way. Hunt out.?

No sooner had the two officers made their down the hallway, a call from Barrett came over Hunt?s comm badge.

>>"Lt. Barrett to Commander Hunt."

"Go ahead."

"I managed to get access to a terminal in one of the rooms, looks like whoever was in here was looking into the basement...accessing information about all sorts of things, including sewer systems and surrounding buildings."<<

?On my way. Lieutenant.?

[Hallway, Room 312, Day 3]

There was no further communication from Barrett for nearly ten minutes, Hunt tried as he might for nearly a few minutes getting no response. He approached the door and knocked on it twice. The period of silence and a jangle of what sounded like glass grabbed his attention enough to storm in with his phaser drawn.

Hunt found Treharne huddled over Barrett?s shoulder with the ops chief looking as if something had spooked him.

?Barrett are you alright? Treharne what?s going on?? asked Mason.




OFF: Tag Barrett and Treharne

<<Hotel Direidi, Basement, 1525, Day 3>>

After scanning even more of the basement with little to no luck, Isabel was
getting frustrated. At one moment, they'd think they were on to something, but then the fluctuation or miscellaneous reading would simply disappear.

Upon getting her third such reading in 15 minutes, Isabel turned toward the others, "I'm getting the feeling we aren't going to be able to properly
track any of these odd readings we're getting. It's almost like they're there one minute, then get absorbed or cancelled out somehow the next..."

Yrel shared the captain's frustration in the matter. It was like a wild goose chase, as the odd human expression went. Yrel even tried to adjust some of the settings on her tricorder after having a just long enough scan at one of the fluctuations. It had appeared to help initially, but it soon became as fruitless as when they started.

They had moved around the basement fairly thoroughly, and it wasn't going to take much longer before they started repeating themselves in their scans. Yrel rested against a wall momentarily, running her fingers through her long red hair before wiping some film of sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her uniform jacket.

"I concur, captain," she said finally. "These emissions are very unstable,
and I'm starting to question whether an enhancer would even have any use down here."

?You?re right, lieutenant.? Said Soren. ?Conventional enhancers will probably not help very much. We would have to build a custom enhancer, I think, based on the quantum characteristics of the events.

Sighing, Isabel started scanning once more. She paused and made a few quick adjustments with her nimble fingers, "I think I see..." It disappeared. "Never mind. I think a signal is going through at the exact phase to wipe out what our tricorders are picking up. Any suggestions, or shall we try moving on to the new wing's lobby?"

?Captain, that would tell me that one of two things is happening. First, random quanta events. Black holes taking microseconds to be born and die. The second would be a trap signal that sends white noise at the tricorders at a specified point in the scan cycle. What do you think, Lieutenant? Either way, not much to be done down here.?

Yrel looked around at their surroundings, and shrugged. She didn't like the
idea of having been defeated by some odd readings, given that her role was to be on top of such mysteries, but facts were facts. She was being bested. "Might as well try to new wing's lobby, captain. Our efforts here aren't yeilding anything of use, and it might be better spent elsewhere for now."

Hefting her bag over her shoulder again, Yrel headed for the stairs and
proceeded up. Kersare and Soren followed up after her. When at the top Yrel marvelled at the lavishness of the hotel. It was quite a sight for her to see, and much more pleasing to the eyes than the basement had been. There wasn't much hustle and bustle going on, but it was midday and so much was to be expected.

'If this is what the public areas of the hotel look like, what's the rooms like?' she thought to herself as Kersare took the lead of the trio and made
their way to the new wing. A few locals were moving about, most of them being housekeeping personnel. Yrel didn't look around all too much, and was instead focused on readings from her tricorder. She resetted the
configuration of the tricorder to be more generic again, since a new area of hotel warranted a fresh scan of the place.

When the tricorder registered back some results, she tapped at the controls to narrow the scan. Odd. Regardless of leaving the basement, she could still detect plenty of fluctuations in the area. The basement was the most dense, but they weren't isolated to it. She picked her pace to catch up with the captain. "Captain, the fluctuations from the basement aren't just in the basement. I'm getting weaker and more erratic readings from all around us."

Isabel looked at her tricorder, "You're right Lieutenant. I'm getting some
of those as well...the odd thing is that they weren't as obvious earlier when Mr. Soren and I were scanning this area."

?I don?t get it, lieutenant. A very weak and erratic signal dampener. Wild quantum flux? We?ll need a whole science team for this kind of analysis.?

"I can understand now why the Sirion crew spent some time in the basement working on this, it certainly seems odd. I'm starting now to get concerned about the health effects that these fluctuations might cause on the crew," she stopped and reigned herself in. Although her concern was partially justified, she was getting to over-cautious about something that was still of undetermined origins. The hotel personnel were just fine and they spent years and decades working here, and they were just fine. She sighed. "I mean, nevermind, captain. I'm just getting paranoid."

"No, no, that could be a valid point. It could be a natural occurance on
Direidi, or something the people developed, which they have an immunity to. We'll have Dr. Darkhelm study the fluctuations for any negative health
effects. Granted, the transporter's biofilter should be able to take care
of that, but I'm not sure how long we'll be on Direidi, so it may be of importance," Isabel said.

<<Hotel Direidi, New Wing, 1602>>

The trio walked into the lobby of the new wing of the hotel through a set of
revolving glass doors. As beautiful as the lobby to the main wing was, this
one someone seemed fresher, more open. It did, in fact, have a large number of windows - some in interesting shapes or made of stained glass.

Isabel looked around, then turned back to her officers, "Let's each take a
section of the room. Lieutenant Sovereign, you take the left third of the
room, Chief Soren can take the middle third, and I'll take the right third.
It's getting close to the time we'll need to meet up with the rest of the crew in the other lobby, so let's search thoroughly but quickly. We can compare notes on the way back over, or if something really stands out."

Yrel nodded from her orders and set off to the left, tricorder at full readiness. She had to admire the effort the locals put into the architecture
of this place. She had already thought highly of the previous section of the hotel, but this was something else. There was so much room and natural light that Yrel figured that the overhead lighting was only used during the night, for there was certainly no need for it now.

Passing around some couches and tables, likely a public living room of
sorts, Yrel was careful not to rush the tricorder past anything too quickly.
They needed as much information as they could get, and there was no excuse to miss something that had potential relevance. So far there was nothing. Even after some fine tuning here and there, Yrel's tricorder couldn't pick up anything beyond what she already detected. The elusive readings were even more hard to get anything off of than the basement. They didn't even hold long enough for the tricorder to alert Yrel to it. A fraction of second it'd be there, and the next it'd be gone.

Yrel took a dep breath, trying to calm the frustration that was building
inside. There were times in her life when being a doctor was so much easier than a scientist...despite being one for only a couple years.

One of the locals looked up at her as she moved slowly and gingerly through the relatively lavish new wing lobby. She didn't do much in the way of greeting, as she suspected the locals would have preferred, instead keeping her focus to the tricorder. Luckily, she didn't have to bother with any chit-chatting from him as he remained silent and let her move on with her work, although it was yeilding very little.

Soren was looking at his tricorder like it was the enemy. Momentary signal contact, then nothing. Seemingly random, less and less likely to be artificially generated. The chief transmitted his results, or the lack thereof, to Lt. Sovereign.

OFF:

JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

Chief Warrant Officer Second Class Soren
Boatswain
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

[Room 312, Day 3, 1445 HR]

[OLD]

There was no further communication from Barrett for nearly ten minutes, Hunt tried as he might for nearly a few minutes getting no response. He approached the door and knocked on it twice. The period of silence and a jangle of what sounded like glass grabbed his attention enough to storm in with his phaser drawn.

Hunt found Treharne huddled over Barrett?s shoulder with the ops chief looking as if something had spooked him.

?Barrett are you alright? Treharne what?s going on?? asked Mason.

[NEW]

"I don't really know, Sir. The Lieutenant just barreled over, he was mumbling something about an attack pattern," Roderic replied, reaching out to help Barrett to his feet. Looking back into the Commander's still confused eyes, the Brig Officer shrugged, "Don't ask me, I'm just a Brig Officer. I leave that attack pattern stuff to other people. I think there was an 'alpha' or maybe a 'delta' in there somewhere."

This was turning into an exciting away mission for the usually mild mannered day of a Brig Officer. First a disappearance and subsequent mystery, then a fancy hotel room, and now a Ops Chief that just keels over for no apparent reason. Beats the heck out of sitting an empty room all day, Roderic reasoned, though he certainly didn't want to be doing this everyday.

"Maybe we should take him to the Doctor?" Roderic suggested, his hand half moving up to his comm badge, just waiting for the word to contact Darkhelm.

[OFF]

TAG: Barrett/Hunt

Ta-da! The disappearing - reappearing Brig Officer!

[Hotel Hallway]
[Day 3, 1450 HR]

Mason took one look at Jason and felt that the good doctor should take a look at him.

"Go ahead and inform her we are headed for her position." instructed the XO.

<Tag Treharne>

Not wanting to take any chances, Mason along with Treharne helped the ops chief to his feet. It seemed he was still in a phased state but somewhat conscious of where he was and who was with him. Walking down the corridor some of the hotel's occupants had been watching on as if the trio had some wild party. Mason was sweating a little bit struggling to keep Barrett up until he was able to gain some ground.

After awhile the three made it into the elevator, forgetting once again that it had no voice interface the XO reached out for the down button. The tricorder he had was now locked onto the CMO's position which promted him to tap on his comm badge.

=/\=Hunt to Darkhelm=/\=

<Tag Darkhelm>

"What's your status?"

<Tag Darkhelm>

"We are on our way to you now. The search of the rooms revealed a padd from the CO stating that he and his crew were going to follow up some leads regarding vague talk of odd readings they had picked up just before going to their rooms. I am guessing what you found plus our discovery the two in some odd way could be related."

<Tag Darkhelm>

He closed the channel as the doors opened, it was dark like the hallway they were in but it was colder and it crept up on Hunt's shoulder.

"There must be breen in this wing, continue scanning and tricorder security link." ordered Mason with each of them drawing their phasers just so they wouldn't be caught unprepared.

Just meters down the hall was a junction box no doubt for the life support grid. There was cool ice edges along side the exterior as Mason went in for a closer look.

"Treharne, Jason what do you make of this?" asked Mason.

<Tag Treharne, Barrett>

"Could the trace elements be some sort of bio residue? Or more importantly who or what could have done this." stated Mason.

The three men saw Darkhelm with Thomas, and the others making their way towards them.

"Good to see you doc thomas. I trust your search was more eviting then ours was." asked Mason escourting the entire group back down the hallway.

<Tag Darkhelm>

"Thomas, take a team over to the CO. I want to make sure that she and her team get to the meeting safely. You three guards come with us."

It was nearly time for the meeting, with a small sense of relief everyone in both groups just to have everyone back together. Rayne being escourted by one guard arrived moments later after Hunt and party arrived at the meeting place.

"Glad you could join us Rayne. We need more information then what we were given both here on the surface and before we even entered orbit. I'm guessing what we need is stored in the database's hotel system. Do you think you might be able to make some information come our way?"

<Tag Rayne, Darkhelm, Thomas, Barrett>

OFF

<<Hotel Direidi, New Wing, 1623, Day 3>>

With slightly more than half an hour before the <i>Malinche</i> crew was to meet to discuss what had and had not been found during the group breakups, Yrel decided to a breather. Information was still lacking, with only continuously there and not there fluctuations coming from everywhere. Nothing of promise was forthcoming and Yrel couldn't figure out what was going on. The biggest problem was lack of information about what they were dealing with. If she had that, she'd be able to make some reasonable assesments on the situation.

For now, Yrel was leaning up against the one of the highly glass-filled walls of the new wing, arms crossed. She looked around and watched as the locals moved about their business, attending to this and that without any care about the missing personnel that Yrel was, in part, responsible in finding. Or at the very least help find.

It was going to be that long indeed before the crew met, and Yrel get into reading some available material on the Malinche's crew. She still hadn't done anything like that so far, thanks to the mishaps of getting to her assignment in the first place. It would a good break too, something to calm the mind while she got ready to discuss possiblities and such with the senior staff. Placing her tricorder back into her bag, she pulled out a pair of PADDs that had some of the crew's bios on it. The best place to start was, obviously, the captain and commander.

She finished reading what she had on the captain when her mind started to wander. As she looked around at the people enjoying the fairly paradisial surroundings, Yrel thought back to her own home and the beauty that had marvelled Yrel for so long. Nine years since she had left home, and two years since having to spend that assignment around her own people. It had been tempting sometimes to go down to the surface, greet her parents and siblings and try to apologise for her sudden leave of her people and culture. It really was, but she held back and stuck to her duty. She wasn't willing to apologise for something she shouldn't have to apologise for. She wanted to get away and explore the galaxy, regardless of the lose of immortality. Her people's culture was, for lack of a gentler term, boring. There was nothing that made Yrel feel like staying there was worthwhile, and now more so after spending time in Starfleet.

<i>'Why should I be the one to admit I was wrong?'</i> she thought frustrated. <i>'I was following my instincts. I'm happy now...'</i>

She shook her head.

<i>'Get a grip, Yrel. This is your first assignment on a new ship, you have to make it look good. You don't want to disappoint people who are depending on you, right?'</i>

Yrel shook her head to her own comment, trying not to look insane to others around her. Luckly no one had taken much notice to her, other than a couple of men likely admiring Yrel's body above anything else, so a suspicious shake of the head went unnoticed.

<i>'I'm happy now...'</i> The thought repeated. <i>'I am...'</i>

It was twenty five minutes to spare until the meeting. She shoved away anymore annoying thoughts of the past and got down to reading personnel files on her coworkers. Next up being Commander Hunt...

<<Hotel Hallway>>
<Day 3, 1450,>

"What's your status?"

"Staying put at the moment; Captain Kersare wanted us to see what else we could come up with."

"We are on our way to you now. The search of the rooms revealed a padd from the CO stating that he and his crew were going to follow up some leads regarding vague talk of odd readings they had picked up just before going to their rooms. I am guessing what you found plus our discovery the two in some odd way could be related."

"Its a good possiblity, we'll come to you, we aren't getting anything more from where we are now."

With that said, Hunt closed the channel.

"Alright, lets go see if we can't help out our friends...come one."

They walked down toward the position that Hunt had indicated. It didn't take long before they were openning the door and saw Hunt and his team.

"Good to see you doc thomas. I trust your search was more eviting then ours was." asked Mason escourting the entire group back down the hallway.

"We managed to find something, although we aren't sure what. Thomas things that it might be some sort of force field concealing a doorway or something."

"Thomas, take a team over to the CO. I want to make sure that she and her team get to the meeting safely. You three guards come with us."

It only took one look at Jason for Amanda to know what happened to him. She quickly grabbed her medical tricorder and started scanning Jason.

"I'm fine," Jason said, through clenched teeth.

"I beg to differ."

It was at that point that Hunt started asking questions about the computer system.

OFF:

ON:
<<Hotel Direidi>>
<Hallway, 1450 HR, Day 3>

Sara had managed to slip away from Hunt so she could go grab some equipment from her room and she was about half way back from there before the guard sent to find her appeared. "Ma am commander Hunt asked for you. If you will follow me I'l lead you to him."

"I don't really need an escort warrent officer. I was just heading that way."

She frowned a bit and sighed knowing the guard wasn't about to leave.

"Sorry Ma am but commander Hunt specifically said not to let you out of sight."

With that said Sara just started walking down a hallway with the guard following nearby. After ten minutes or so Rayne finally spotted Hunt and several others with him.

"Glad you could join us Rayne. We need more information then what we were given both here on the surface and before we even entered orbit. I'm guessing what we need is stored in the database's hotel system. Do you think you might be able to make some information come our way?"

"That is what I do best sir, any idea of what to look for exactly?"

<Tag Hunt>

"I'll get right on it."

With that Sara left once again to her room within the Hotel leaving the guard behind with Hunt. Figuring it would be best to notify Lt. Grayson about what the commander had asked for she tapped her commbadge.

=/\= Ensign Rayne to Lt. Grayson=/\=

Sara waited about five seconds before once again tapping her commbadge only to hear no reply again.

"How odd...Maybe I should figure out where he is after I get the information the commander asked for." she said silently to herself as she entered her room and imediatly set to work.


OFF: Tags Hunt

<<Hotel Direidi, New Wing, 1647, Day 3>>

After a half hour of scanning the new wing, Isabel was beginning to believe it was a lost cause. The same fluctuations were showing up here that had appeared in the other wing of the hotel. Unfortunately, they were showing up with the same results - there one minute, gone the next.

Isabel's fingers moved to adjust the settings on her tricorder for one last sweep when something hit her. What if the fluctuations weren't entirely random? What if the Direidi had used them to lure the Sirion crew somewhere? She still held firmly to the belief that the Direidi weren't hostile and didn't intend any harm.

But what if?

Perhaps the Direidi knew something about the ship, something so bad that if the Sirion survey team had tried to return, they would've been hurt or killed? It was conceivable that the Direidi had somehow gotten some form of information similar to this and wanted to protect them... To do so, they produced these random fluctuations to lead the survey team somewhere they'd be safe until another more powerful Federation starship could arrive...the USS Malinche!

Then again, she could be totally wrong. Perhaps the Direidi just had one of their 'situations' ready for the Sirion crew. Maybe that's where they were. Or maybe the fluctuations were real and the survey team was actually lost somewhere.

Isabel sighed; too many theories. Right now all she had were a few hypotheses, no proof. But still, none were outside the realm of possibility. The only problem with working by yourself, as Isabel was at the moment, was that you went in circles with your reasoning.

That, however, could get resolved shortly, at the meeting. In fact...Isabel glanced around and noticed the time. Her crew was probably heading to the conference room in the original Hotel Direidi right now. Isabel's eyes passed over the room, noticing that Yrel was already gone. She did, however, see Soren on his side of the room, apparently still scanning.

Catching Soren's eye, Isabel tapped her wrist and pointed back towards the original wing of the hotel. Time to go back. Seeing him nod, Isabel turned and left through the revolving doors.

Isabel had slowed down as her mind mulled over her thoughts on the fluctuations. Pausing for a moment, she noticed her slackened pace and hurriedly continued in the direction of the conference room.

OFF: Tag Soren, Crew!

<<Hotel Direidi>
<Hallway, 1455, Day 3>>

"Look for anything that would help us in finding a cause to these unexplained readings both teams have found, maps layouts. Do be careful Ensign."

While Rayne was off carrying out Mason's orders, Mason was talking with Darkhelm and the others. They moved over into a quiet room, Hunt scanned it to make sure no one or thing would be listening.

"Doctor how is he?"

<Tag Darkhelm>

Mason was concerned the impact of what Barrett went threw must have been staggering. He moved over to him tapping him on the shoulder.

"Jason, you don't look well. Perhaps it might be good for you to return your room and get some rest." said Hunt concern about the ops chief.

<Tag Barrett>

"Alright, doctor please stay close to him. When Thomas ran his scans was he able to determine a location on this possible doorway he believes is there? Thundera use your tricorder to scan the area and see if there any portable generators something to explain these EM readings and to confirm Mr. Thomas's theory."

<Tag Thundera>

Hunt grabbed a chair near the opening where they entered the room. Everyone looked around taking a breath, rolling his neck around he noticed a green spark that was shining every few seconds just under one of the floor plates. With a slient wave of a finger, he ordered Thundera to follow with her weapon drawn and tricorder flipped open.

The green spark seemed to pick up in pace as the federation team moved in. Hunt picked up the piece of carpet to his dismay he saw a green circular object that set off a slight humming sound. It was one that no one in the entire team had heard before.

"Thundera take a look at this, it looks like some sort of sensor device." replied Hunt moving back so she could have a look."

<Tag Thundera>

During the discussion, Darkhelm's tricorder bleeped aloud rapidly catching everyone's attention. The XO walked over to her in haste.

"What is it doctor?" asked Mason.

<Tag Darkhelm>

Thundera raised her voice grabbing Mason's attention.

<Tag Thundera>

Mason frowned at what she had just told him. This was something that was playing around with Barrett. He was begining to think if someone was trying to pick them off one by one so they would tuck tail and go back to the Malinche. A security guard brought over a container and carefully placed the green object inside.

"There seems to be a residue of transporter energy here. I would say someone must have beamed this here just seconds before we entered the room. We had better get out of here now and meet up with the Captain. I'm sure she would love to see this." said Mason.

<Meeting Room, 1647, Day 3>

Two hours had passed it took the team awhile to head for the meeting room with the temperatures being uncomfortable and Barrett recovering from his ordeal. Everyone sat down taking their seats waiting for Kersare and her party to arrive.

OFF: Tag Thundera, Barrett, Darkhelm and crew!!!

<<ON: Fightercraft Arrowhawk. Day 3. 1445>>

Lieutenant Abubakar Jaran set his metal mug of ex-coffee down on the control panel from which it immediately slipped, clatterting to the tight confines of the fighters floor. There was barely enough room to sit in the cramped cockpit let alone bend down to pick the damn thing up, luckily for him he had installed a replicator panel in the cockpit soon after he had 'requisitioned' the ship from Starfleet and his last mission.

To install it, he'd had to get around and remove some minor systems, autopilot, speed regualtion and flight stability control override systems... at least now he could actually 'fly' the thing, and this new fighter was born to fly, properly.

This craft was not built, Abubakar was convinced, it was concieved, grown, and born.

Unlike conventional fighters, the Arrowhawks wings were curved over the top of the fusalage, wide and spread like eagles wings, it allowed for phonomenal atmospheric handling.

A small panel lit up informing him he was about to crash into his destination, he quickly de-activated the warp drive, the Arrowhawk shuddering slightly as it dropped out from warp 9.6, hardly possible for a fighter - or so most of Starfleet and the other major powers thought.

Its hull made it undetectable at warp, surely now causing a few raised eyebrows on the Malinche bridge as he barrell rolled up through the four glowing nacelles and then changed his trajectory sharply and screamed down the sloping saucer at a paralell angle.

Banking to the right and towards the planet, he made a standard barrell roll to port to avoid any incoming weapons fire or tractor beams and then accelerated towards the planet surface.

"Computer, scan for Captain Isabele Kersare from bio-file Alpha Sigma One"

Almost as he finished his order, the cockpit now glowing orange from the atmosphere blazing upside the craft, the computer beeped back at him.

In a more metallic voice than usual; it said "Target found. Transport lock established, weapons lock confirmed"

Her exact location along with relevant flight directions came up on a holographic display on the cockpit window. He dove sharply, seeing as she was fortunately at what was ID'd as a hotel almost directly underneath him.

Why the hell the Malinche hadn't tried to blast him by now was beyond him, even with the experimental crafts new anti-scan tecnology, Malinche should still be able to establish a rough weapons lock even if the planets sensors couldn't detect him.

The ground was racing towards him, he executed a slowing spiral to bring to a horizontal position above the hotels roof.

Hovering as close as he could to the roof so as not to be seen from anyone on the ground, he unclipped the best part of the Arrowhawk, he also picked up a tricorder and clipped it to his belt on his civillian clothing.

"Computer, transfer target aquisition to tricorder and execute pilot transport to five metres negative."

Near-instantaneously, he was standing on a very windy hotel roof underneath an enormous and incredibly loud fighter. Abubakar unclipped the control pad he had taken from Arrowhawk and pressed one of the more prominent buttons on it, in a few short seconds the Arrowhawk, the wind, and the noise, crackled out of existence.

That was the best part, the ship could be stored in its own transporter buffer, extremely useful for his last mission, and utterly incredible.

Abubakar quickly started for the rooftop door, opening it and charging down the hallway toward the centre of the building, the most logical place for an elevation system.

A porter held a lift door open, smiling but giving Abubakar a curious look at the same time. "Where to, sir?"

Abubakar flipped out his tricorder and read the display, he showed it to the porter, "Take me here" Abubakar told him, his voice rough.

A few minutes of walking corridors following his tricorder, Abubakar arrived at an intersection, to the left of him was the corridor that Captain Kersare was in, and walking towards him.

Captain Kersare had not seen him since he ran into the caves on Celtron V and came out heavily injured, he owed the Captain an apology, if not an explanation. Now with transfer orders in hand, he would certainly have the time to explain what had happened in the caves now he was re-assigned to the Malinche.

It was a shame, that he couldn't talk about his mission between then and now, once again taking secondment with Special Forces.

He turned the corridor just as Kersare walked up to the turn, "Hello Captain" he said, his face flat and emotionless as usual.

OFF