| Author | Message | ||
     Commander Sieven Drexler |
(continued from previous log) Sieven stood at the presentation dais in the flag conference room quietly, waiting for images and blueprints to load on the wall monitor behind him. He cleared his throat. "All right, everyone," he said, scanning the faces of the gathered flag staff. It was a small, but experienced group, and despite being hastily assembled, it remained an efficient machine bearing the admiral's badge. "Whether you remember or not, in the alternate timeline we reverse-engineered Jjaro technology from Xanadu and designed an antiproton phaser weapon that essentially allowed us to overcome to the drastic firepower disadvantage we are at here." He took a moment as the monitor displayed a Jjaro weapons port. "We need that, and we need it soon. There's no way to really know how much time we have before the Pfhor find us here." He looked at a dark-haired woman at the front. "Lieutenant, I need you to access the list of names I have in the report to contact engineers who were part of this project in the other timeline. I need you to find out if they are here in M64, and if so, get them on ansible and find out how much they remember. We need every hint we can get." The woman nodded, taking notes. Sieven looked behind her. "Mesrin, work with Commander Oswald on finding some good research technicians in her department, and then lead an away team to examine this weapons port." Sieven paused a moment. "This is why you guys are here with us: these important missions. We need to work quickly and efficiently. Time..." he said, swallowing as if the word had a deeper meaning to him, "is of the essence. Any questions?" A hand raised in the back of the room. "Chief?" "Aye, sir, I was wondering if we have access to Xanadu's database or perhaps could ask Savant for help with that." Chief Wardol was a technologies specialist and would probably be the brains behind the research operation. Sieven nodded. "Indeed, Savant should be available for that. The database on Xanadu is self-limited, but perhaps there will be some information you can use there. Use your discretion. Anything else?" There were no more questions. "I need a report every hour. Be fast, but be careful. Don't miss anything obvious. Dismissed." He sighed, glancing at the clock. Something inside troubled him, the feeling that someone was going to break up the party before it was even close to being over. He took his PADDs and stepped off the platform, watching the staff file out quickly. After a moment of reflection, he followed them out into the corridor. He walked astutely down the tight corridor. Deck nine was probably one of the busiest decks on the ship second to engineering's decks, but most of the crewmen made way for him. He entered CIC and made his way to the central holotables, sitting on one of the stools. He began configuring the nearest table with locator markers of the team that would be heading down very soon, and on the other table, he kept a tactically-oriented situation monitor of the area surrounding Coronado. That feeling was nagging at him quite strongly now, as if it were almost too dangerous to risk sending the team away from the ship. He did not rescind his orders, though, and tried hard to shake the urge to call it all off. The Pfhor deserved what was coming to them. He had to get the Jjaro weapons. The risk would be too high if he didn't. * * * (Six days later...) Chief Wardol's voice was raised in frustration. "It's the relays, John. The antiprotons are deteriorating sixty-four percent after they pass through the chamber." He waved a hand at the large oven-sized pod in the middle of the cargo bay. A mustard-toting officer scowled. "Yes," said Lieutenant Mesrin with lost patience, "but you can't bypass the second parabolic emitter unless you want to melt the entire module!" He sighed, sticking his head back into the open hatch on the side of the module. "I don't want to melt the module, John, I want to have a weapon that can melt a hole through Pfhor hull." The lankier man went to the other side, squatting and looking for something inside. He could see Mesrin through the other side of the module, but as he grimaced over at him, something caught his attention. He peeked in carefully, looking at a blue-hued circuitboard. "'ello, 'ello... what's this?" Mesrin grunted as he turned over and looked across at him, spanner in his hand. Wardol gritted his teeth, trying to slide in a little further. "...four, five... damn, eight redundancies. What did Chief Carlyle from Sterling have to say about that? Wasn't it something about the power routing? Purposely redundant for security reasons?" He held his own spanner in the clutches of his teeth and traced the circuitry up and over him. "Jjaro must've been really paranoid. This thing splits four times in twenty centimeters." He glanced down at the PADD that was wedged into a small opening above him, within the module, reading the report of Carlyle, an engineer who worked on the project in the alternate timeline. "Hm. Bastard was awfully vague." A chime sounded in the cargo bay, and echoed around on the bare walls a moment. Accent lights flashed yellow and prompted a mutter from Mesrin. "Dammit," he said, sliding carefully out of the weapon module's inner cavity. "Let's hope we aren't too late, eh, chief?" Wardol could only nod to himself, but was intent on his work, and remained in the guts of the weapon while Coronado went to yellow alert. BTC |