Making Contact

Posted on Mon Oct 7th, 2013 @ 3:29pm by Lieutenant JG Zam Stott [Byrne] & Commander Gaius Ra-Xialii & Lieutenant Ciaran McIntyre & Lieutenant Rose Cooper & Lieutenant JG Ethan Kessel

Mission: Remnant Part 1
Location: Research Station
Timeline: Immediately after "Distress Call"

Gaius always hated transporters, the tingle as his entire body was dematerialized and rematerialized into what he felt was a new body. Still came with all the aches the old one had, the one thing that concerned Gaius more than anything, was the split second of non conciousness. It was like dying and being reborn. He left his metaphysical thoughts behind as his vision cleared, revealing drab Starfleet decor. He put his hand on his holster, just in case.

As Stott materialised, carrying his Starfleet Security-issue Type-III rifle, he was still silently thrilled at the fact that he was finally not only joining an away team with members of the senior staff, but doing it in a capacity that meant he was critical to the safety of the mission. Rather than simply being there to fix things or make computers work, he was now there as part of the essential security escort. He couldn't decide whether the feeling he was getting from it was appreciation for the power that gave him or for the worth it made him feel towards his presence, but he decided that it would sound better if it was the latter if anyone asked him about it.

McIntyre materialised on one knee, primed and ready to propose a marriage of anti-matter and bio-matter at the first sign of trouble. His rifle swept around the room and he hissed the all-clear.

The Security officer stood and slung his rifle back over his shoulder before taking in the away team. It was a force of habit to run through a quick head count, ever since the transporter had seen fit to end the life of a junior officer on a previous assignment. All present and correct.

"McIntyre, Cooper, Kessel, get to Operations, see if you can ascertain why they havent got comms. Stott you are with me, lets check out their power core. Phasers on stun, open comms, report any findings," Gaius ordered, then moving down a walnut emblazoned corridor. Gaius mused at the idea that he could be over reacting to the current scenario, with their being no signs of damage.

"Got it." McIntyre acknowledged the order and immediately peeled off in the direction of what he thought would be a turbolift. He kept the pace at something short of a run but he knew that the faster they moved, the better.

He didn't have a good read of the situation so far. His tricorder was telling him that there were plenty of healthy, localised life-signs but, in his experience, that didn't mean that their prototype wasn't an 80ft metal colossus that fired torpedoes from its sunken eye sockets.

McIntyre shook the image out of his head and turned to check on the progress of his companions.

Rose hurried after him, with a medical kit and tricorder in her hands. She agreed that the faster they moved, the better, as long as they didn't have any idea of what was happening. Being on time might be important. And if not, they at least wouldn't have wasted any.

Stott nodded silently to the commander, before moving off with him, rifle raised. From what he could tell from the systems around them, the power core would at least be operating, but he could understand the commander wanting to check on it - they might even be able to boost the power to the communications array to break through the local interference.

The doors to Operations swung open in front of the away team as they tentatively made their way into the bustle of the gleaming white room. Uniformed staff went about their business, decked out in the private ranking system of their company.

"I'm Lieutenant Ciaran McIntyre of the USS Endeavour. We received your distress call but were unable to establish communications." The room's inhabitants continued their work tenaciously. "Hello?"

The whole room turned round in response to McIntyre's affronted salutation. Still, no-one spoke in kind. His hand fell to his sidearm. "Doctor, what's going on here?"

Rose shrugged, after checking her tricorder. "They seem to be healthy. Not deaf or mute or anything." She looked at the people staring at them, trying not to get creeped out by it. She had read horror stories which started like this, but tried to push that thought aside. "I am Doctor Rose Cooper, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Endeavour," she repeated. "We are here to help."

"His eyes are following my hand." The Scot waved his hand in front of the face of the nearest scientist and kept the other firmly on his side arm. "Right. Kessel, get whatever information you can from these consoles. Maybe there's some kind of message or clue or something that we can use."

"On it." Kessel said. After a few moments, he looked up again.

"The Sytem is on an auto-encryption loop. Everyweek, the whole system is encrypted and uploaded to a secure server. Logs, communication, records, reports, the works. Only the most recent week is accessible." He typed on the weekboard. A few moments later he paused.

"Well. Well, well well. that's interesting." He said.

McIntyre allowed the statement to hang in the air for a moment before realising that Kessel wasn't elaborating on the statement. He sidled across to the Engineer. "What have you got, Ethan?"

"I am not entirely sure - but they were working on some pretty advanced stuff here. Its all code worded. "Project Hyperion". "Crystal Dawn". "Pyroanimus - That means Firesoul..." Physists... Never trust to name thing. I knew a researcher who had named his project after his ex-wife. 'Liable to explode at any given moment, and terribly expensive.' he said. I don't have access to those, and I rather suspect attempts to breach them would result in a less than favorable reaction from these workers here... Aside from the Projects, there are some logs I can sift through.... He take a look at these." He pointed to the console.

As the two stood close to one of the consoles, one of the scientists, who had thus far been watching the Starfleet officers like the others, seemed to gain some sense that he wasn't imagining the first visitors they had had at the station in a long time.

"O que você está fazendo?" he asked, his tone full of concern - more likely for the console and it's data than anything or anyone else. "Você vai quebrar alguma coisa!"

Ethan paused.

"Anyone have any idea what he just said? Languages isn't my strong point." Kessel said. Then he paused.

"It's Portuguese." McIntyre replied, keeping his voice low in the hope that his week spent on Copacabana beach wouldn't be wasted.

"Shouldn't the universal translators have picked that up?" he asked.

"Usually they should have," Rose replied. "I think all human languages are in the program. Though I don't really speak any other languages either. Is there something here that interferes with our programming?" she asked, looking at Kessel.

Another of the scientists started speaking before the engineer could answer. "Etwas scheint mit der Universal Translator stören. Ich kann nicht verstehen, jeder von euch."

"There was a word in there. He said Universal Translator." McIntyre repeated the word to the scientist and nodded. "There must be something wrong with it. Ethan, can you do anything?"

"I'll see if I can filter through the spectrum and isolate what could be causing the problem," the engineer said, as he started working at the console.

"Come on, Ethan." McIntyre prompted the Engineer as more and more words broke through the language barrier in Federation Standard. "We're making progress."

"Got it!" Ethan called out, as a faint confirmation chirp issued from the console. "There was some low-level radiation - nothing harmful - that was interfering with the UT's signals - it was also likely what was causing the communications issues with the ship. I've been able to modify the station's shields to block it out."

"Very good, Lieutenant," the engineer who had first spoken to them said, stepping forwards. "I apologise for not realising the problem and seeing to it sooner; our Universal Translators here are networked locally with each-other; as there was no communication barrier between ourselves, we forgot that the Federation's standard devices do not function in the same way."

"Commander," Ethan said, tapping his com-badge. "We've been able to make contact with the scientists, and are about ready to try opening a channel to the ship now, if you'd care to join us."