Mission 3 - Distractions

Henriks Ābols wrote:

Henriks grinned lazily, feeling the warmth of Chira's lips against his skin. "As you say, my lady," he replied. He was too sleepy to argue anyway. His eyes followed her as she made her way to one of the cribs to lay the sleeping babe down before stepping over to the shower and slipping out of her clothes. His eyes were just beginning to close when she called out, something about the shower not working?

"Coming," he answered. The only problem was that there was still a hulk of a cat resting on his lap. "Nost, Teo," he mumbled. Teo didn't move, purring harder than before as if that would save him. "Nost," Henriks repeated. Off. But still, the cat wouldn't move, so Henriks stood, sending the cat sprawling to the floor. He made his way over to the other crib and lay Thomas down a moment, freeing his hands to help his lovely lady.

"Was this the peep you said I'd get later?" he asked, grinning as he gave her a quick kiss. Now, to see to the shower. Henriks stared at it for a moment. Nothing was coming to mind. Technology, aside from what was used to run sickbay, had never been his strong suit. So, Henriks began to start pushing random buttons, messing with different settings as he went, to see if he could get the darned thing to start working again.

[Quarters]

"Funny guy," Chira grinned, shaking her head as she slipped into a thin robe.  While showers and bathrooms tended to be great places to get naked with your husband, it wasn't quite the same if the pair of you were trying to fix a broken shower.  "I think it might actually be...here, hold up a second."  She darted into the next room, taking a multi-purpose kit of household tools out of a wall panel.  A quick glance at the babies showed that they were still, mercifully, sleeping.

Moving back into the bathroom, Chira took out a little screwdriver.  Once the panel was removed, the purring sound increased.  Of course, it became readily apparent as to why.  "Oh, dear God," she growled.  "Our fixtures are full of tribbles."

[Engineering]

Sigma had been up since 0300 hours crawling through Jefferies tubes, knee reinforces clinking against the floor and a loose and jaunty tune on their lips. Even getting up so early wasn't enough to damper the Deltan's mood. Sigma yanked open yet another wall panel and held a spanner to the plasma coils inside. Regular tuneups by themself wasn't exactly the most exciting work, but everything seemed to be going well.

Well, that is, until they got a few more feet up the tube. Sigma paused and grimaces as an acrid smell hit their nostrils. The vague displeasure turned to alarm as they noticed tendrils of smoke winding out of the nearest wall panel. The cybernetic webbing on their hands stayed any fear of burning their hands as they immediately ripped the cover away.

"Ew. What is that?" The disgusted engineer muttered, reaching out and pulling the smoking lump inside out with two pinched fingers.

The thing dropped beside them, and Sigma stared at what was between their pinched fingers. Fur.

Fur lumps only meant one thing. The Deltan gagged and tapped their combadge.

"Petty Officer Nu to Ops. There are tribbles in the plasma coils!"

Chira Abols wrote:

[Quarters]

"Funny guy," Chira grinned, shaking her head as she slipped into a thin robe.  While showers and bathrooms tended to be great places to get naked with your husband, it wasn't quite the same if the pair of you were trying to fix a broken shower.  "I think it might actually be...here, hold up a second."  She darted into the next room, taking a multi-purpose kit of household tools out of a wall panel.  A quick glance at the babies showed that they were still, mercifully, sleeping.

Moving back into the bathroom, Chira took out a little screwdriver.  Once the panel was removed, the purring sound increased.  Of course, it became readily apparent as to why.  "Oh, dear God," she growled.  "Our fixtures are full of tribbles."

[Quarters]

Henriks continued to mess with various settings on the shower while Chira disappeared momentarily, returning with their household kit. He helped her pull off one of the panels, holding it in place so that it didn't fall as she turned the screwdriver and gently laying it aside when she was finished. Chira was not at all pleased with what they saw, and neither was he.

The fixtures were swarmed with tribbles, a purring sound that he had thought was Teo became all the louder. Henriks hated tribbles. They, along with ants and spiders, simply made his skin crawl, an irrational fear that they would multiply exponentially to the point of suffocation. And how did those things not have eyes? Henriks could deal with them when he had to, but he would rather not.

Struggling to suppress a yawn, Henriks activated the computer. "Ābols to Ops," he began, too tired to wonder if this was the right department for such a matter, "we have a tribble infestation in our quarters."

Kristen Young wrote:

Kristen understood her concern. Taking care of so many patients without adequate systems had to be difficult. "According to the last progress report I saw, it will be another day. I can do my best to have sickbay bumped to the head of the priority list?"

Myree Grell wrote:

Frowning, Myree blinked in confusion.  "Ilana, power should have been restored here first.  I mean, Sickbay's pretty much the definition of a 'critical system'."  Reaching up, she scratched her head, knocking her bun loose.  A long strand of hair fell down alongside her face, but the Orion girl didn't notice it.  She took out a padd from her side pocket, scrolling through the info.  "Yeah...you should have everything down here.  I have no idea why you don't."  

She turned toward the back bulkhead, walking toward it.  "Maybe there's a problem in the relays?" she said, more of a question than a statement.  While Myree was a natural tinkerer, she knew she didn't know half as much as Kristen probably did.

[Sickbay]

Ilana frowned slightly as she listened to the two officers discussing sickbay's power problems. She had never noticed that the power levels had ever come back up to normal, despite the fact that Myree seemed to think that they had been one of the first things to be fixed.

"I n-n-n-never n-n-noticed any ch-ch-changes in th-th-the p-p-power s-s-systems s-s-since th-th-they b-b-blew out," she offered, unsure if that would make any difference. The more they knew, the easier it would be to fix, right? Then again, there could have been changes during the times that Raynor had had her forcibly removed from sickbay in order to eat and rest, as was his habit. Even if it was annoying at times, she couldn't summon any true irritation toward the Klingon for that.

However, she was hoping that the pair of them would leave the infirmary soon. There was something about the Orion that was making her uncomfortable and uneasy. She wasn't sure what it was, but she wanted to get away from it as soon as she could.

Sigma Nu wrote:

"Petty Officer Nu to Ops. There are tribbles in the plasma coils!"

Henriks Abols wrote:

"Ābols to Ops," he began, too tired to wonder if this was the right department for such a matter, "we have a tribble infestation in our quarters."

[Operations]

Hearing the reports starting to come through on the comm channels about the presence of Tribbles on the station, Rachel began to realise that the one creature they had found in Ops was only the very tip of the iceberg. It would appear that the problem was far more widespread than she had originally thought. The main question was, of course, how did the Tribbles get onto the station in the first place? All livestock imported through official channels would have had to have the appropriate paperwork with it and she didn't remember signing off on any consignments of Tribbles. In any case, they would have had to have been neutered in order to be permitted aboard the station.

No sooner had she asked herself the question than she realised just who she could start with in order to find some answers.

"Contact Rama down on the promenade. I would like a word with him in my office at his earliest convenience." Of course, 'at his earliest convenience', when spoken by someone like Rachel, meant 'now'.

Rachel Deacon wrote:

Hearing the reports starting to come through on the comm channels about the presence of Tribbles on the station, Rachel began to realise that the one creature they had found in Ops was only the very tip of the iceberg.  It would appear that the problem was far more widespread than she had originally thought.  The main question was, of course, how did the Tribbles get onto the station in the first place?  All livestock imported through official channels would have had to have the appropriate paperwork with it and she didn't remember signing off on any consignments of Tribbles.  In any case, they would have had to have been neutered in order to be permitted aboard the station.

No sooner had she asked herself the question than she realised just who she could start with in order to find some answers.

"Contact Rama down on the promenade.  I would like a word with him in my office at his earliest convenience."  Of course, 'at his earliest convenience', when spoken by someone like Rachel, meant 'now'.

[Ops]

It was, of course, no surprise at all to Raynor when the reports started rolling in, one after the other. What else could happen when one dealt in tribbles? "I suggest we begin to use lethal force with extreme prejudice," he growled, knowing damn well that Deacon wouldn't go for it. For some reason, people thought there actually were other ways of dealing with the befurred demon-globs.

"I will personally make sure Rama is brought before you," he said, stalking off and heading directly for the Promenade.

[Promenade]

The sight of a stalking Klingon often sent people scurrying, and this time was no different. "FERENGI!" he bellowed, enjoying the sound of his voice echoing off the corridor walls. Raynor slammed his fist on the bar, rattling the glasses.

[Vidiian Ship]

Neither Vidiian in the small shuttle had ever encountered anything like what they had just fallen through. Some kind of tunnel, similar to a wormhole or some other kind of subspace distortion, but not quite. Their sensors had picked up unusual readings of triquantum waves and tachyon surges that matched nothing in their databanks. Of course, their exploration of spatial anomalies had taken a back seat compared to their medical research.

However, wherever the strange tunnel had let out was a completely different part of the galaxy according to their star charts. A whole new sector in which to seek the cure for the Phage. And, only a few short light years away, was a starbase teeming with humanoid life.

"Ahhh Klingon." Rama knew it was Raynor. He turned around to address the Klingon. The Ferengi wasn't sure what the Klingon wanted but if it was anything other than blood wine, the Ferengi was in trouble. "What can I get you? Blood Wine perhaps?"

Rama wrote:

"Ahhh Klingon." Rama knew it was Raynor. He turned around to address the Klingon. The Ferengi wasn't sure what the Klingon wanted but if it was anything other than blood wine, the Ferengi was in trouble. "What can I get you? Blood Wine perhaps?"

[Promenade]

Crossing his arms, Raynor cocked an upswept eyebrow, a wickedly-playful smile creeping across his face. "No bloodwine today," he answered. "I have some options for you, though. I am here on behalf of Admiral Deacon, who is respectfully requesting you meet with her. So!" His voice was deceptively, dangerously light and buoyant. "Those options - walking with me, or being carried."

Raynor leaned on the countertop, bringing his wolfish features closer to the Ferengi. "Your choice..."

Henriks Ābols wrote:

Henriks continued to mess with various settings on the shower while Chira disappeared momentarily, returning with their household kit. He helped her pull off one of the panels, holding it in place so that it didn't fall as she turned the screwdriver and gently laying it aside when she was finished. Chira was not at all pleased with what they saw, and neither was he.

The fixtures were swarmed with tribbles, a purring sound that he had thought was Teo became all the louder. Henriks hated tribbles. They, along with ants and spiders, simply made his skin crawl, an irrational fear that they would multiply exponentially to the point of suffocation. And how did those things not have eyes? Henriks could deal with them when he had to, but he would rather not.

Struggling to suppress a yawn, Henriks activated the computer. "Ābols to Ops," he began, too tired to wonder if this was the right department for such a matter, "we have a tribble infestation in our quarters."

[Quarters]

Tribbles. You have got to be freakin' *kidding* me, Chira thought, running her fingers through her loose hair. She turned to say something glib about the furry creatures, but her words froze as she caught the unmistakable look on her husband's face. As a trained clinical psychologist, Chira was adept at hearing what people said...and reading what they didn't say.

"Henriks?" she asked, taking up his and in hers. "Are you okay?"

Raynor Hughes wrote:

[Promenade]

Crossing his arms, Raynor cocked an upswept eyebrow, a wickedly-playful smile creeping across his face.  "No bloodwine today," he answered.  "I have some options for you, though.  I am here on behalf of Admiral Deacon, who is respectfully requesting you meet with her.  So!"  His voice was deceptively, dangerously light and buoyant.  "Those options - walking with me, or being carried."

Raynor leaned on the countertop, bringing his wolfish features closer to the Ferengi.  "Your choice..."

Rama stepped out from behind his bar and walked up to the Klingon. "Well, since you offered me so many wonderful choices. I guess I'll head up to operations and talk to Rachel." He started heading dorm the bar an towards the promenade ahead of Raynor. He had a suspicion of what she wanted to discuss but he would certainly stick to charm and denial. Rama had noticed the Tribbles that had begun to pop up all over the station.

[Vidiian Ship]

Having already encountered the Federation on several occasions, the Vidiians knew enough about their technology to slip closer to the station. The lure of so many humanoids, all healthy, their organs easily made compatible with their own failing bodies...

Aralen carefully piloted the small craft closer, staying under the belly of a larger, rather run down cargo freighter as it drew up to the station to dock and, as the freighter pulled into dock the Vidiian shuttle latched on to one of the free ports, locking itself into place and appearing to be part of the bigger ship. Picking up their scanners, both of the aliens slipped onto the freighter, starting to make their way, as unseen as possible, to the station.

Chira Abols wrote:

[Quarters]

Tribbles.  You have got to be freakin' *kidding* me, Chira thought, running her fingers through her loose hair.  She turned to say something glib about the furry creatures, but her words froze as she caught the unmistakable look on her husband's face.  As a trained clinical psychologist, Chira was adept at hearing what people said...and reading what they didn't say.

"Henriks?" she asked, taking up his and in hers.  "Are you okay?"

[Quarters]

The tension in his back eased a bit as he felt his wife's hand slide into his. She just always had an undeniable calming effect, part of why he loved her so much. But that did not change his dislike of tribbles. "Jā," he replied, with a small, nervous chuckle. "I know it's kind of weird, but these things just give me the creeps." His urge to cringe was beginning to overpower his constant desire to yawn.

"They kind of look like something Teo would cough up, except they move..." He almost jumped when he heard an unusually loud purr, but it was just the cat, who must have heard his name and came to rub against his human's leg. "Teo seems fine with them. Maybe he thinks they're kittens. And are you alright, mana saulīte?" He brought her hand to his lips for a quick kiss, hoping to ease her stress.

Rama wrote:

Rama stepped out from behind his bar and walked up to the Klingon. "Well, since you offered me so many wonderful choices. I guess I'll head up to operations and talk to Rachel." He started heading dorm the bar an towards the promenade ahead of Raynor. He had a suspicion of what she wanted to discuss but he would certainly stick to charm and denial. Rama had noticed the Tribbles that had begun to pop up all over the station.

[Promenade]

Unfortunately, the Ferengi had opted not to resist. Raynor normally wasn't so aggressive, but the idea of a tribble infestation put him on a razor's edge. It was almost as if the furred demons were drawing out his Klingon nature.

[Ops]

After an awkward ride back to Ops, Raynor reached down, gripping Rama's collar as he "assisted" the Ferengi into the main area. "Admiral Deacon," he growled, "I have found Mr. Rama."

Henriks Ābols wrote:

The tension in his back eased a bit as he felt his wife's hand slide into his. She just always had an undeniable calming effect, part of why he loved her so much. But that did not change his dislike of tribbles. "Jā," he replied, with a small, nervous chuckle. "I know it's kind of weird, but these things just give me the creeps." His urge to cringe was beginning to overpower his constant desire to yawn.

"They kind of look like something Teo would cough up, except they move..." He almost jumped when he heard an unusually loud purr, but it was just the cat, who must have heard his name and came to rub against his human's leg. "Teo seems fine with them. Maybe he thinks they're kittens. And are you alright, mana saulīte?" He brought her hand to his lips for a quick kiss, hoping to ease her stress.

[Quarters]

While it seemed incredible to believe that someone could possibly be afraid of adorable little tribbles, Chira also knew how important it was to never mock someone's fears, especially phobias. They weren't something that could be rationalized. "I guess they are kinda weird," she grinned, returning his kiss. "I'm fine. I don't mind tribbles, but I certainly don't want them pouring out of the walls."

She scooped Teo up, leading Henriks back to their bedroom. Chira deposited the cat on their bed so that he could take his usual place near the foot. She smiled at the still-sleeping forms of their children. "I was wondering why Tommy and Kristina suddenly decided to calm down and sleep. It might have something to do with ambient tribble purrs..."

Chira Abols wrote:

[Quarters]

While it seemed incredible to believe that someone could possibly be afraid of adorable little tribbles, Chira also knew how important it was to never mock someone's fears, especially phobias.  They weren't something that could be rationalized.  "I guess they are kinda weird," she grinned, returning his kiss.  "I'm fine.  I don't mind tribbles, but I certainly don't want them pouring out of the walls."

She scooped Teo up, leading Henriks back to their bedroom.  Chira deposited the cat on their bed so that he could take his usual place near the foot.  She smiled at the still-sleeping forms of their children.  "I was wondering why Tommy and Kristina suddenly decided to calm down and sleep.  It might have something to do with ambient tribble purrs..."

[Quarters]

Henriks followed Chira and Teo back into the bedroom, where their children lay sound asleep. It hadn't occurred to him that the tribbles were the cause of their peace. Henriks had thought that perhaps the twins had finally wailed themselves to exhaustion, so he supposed he should thank the tribbles for that. "No, out of the walls would not be good." It was bad enough that they were int he walls at all, like rats. For some reason, the idea of rats didn't bother him nearly as much as tribbles. Hopefully the whole situation would get sorted soon, but until then he would make sure his family did not get swarmed. Keeping one eye focussed in the general direction of the shower, he turned back to Chira and asked with a grin, "Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?"

Raynor Hughes wrote:

[Promenade]

Unfortunately, the Ferengi had opted not to resist.  Raynor normally wasn't so aggressive, but the idea of a tribble infestation put him on a razor's edge.  It was almost as if the furred demons were drawing out his Klingon nature.

[Ops]

After an awkward ride back to Ops, Raynor reached down, gripping Rama's collar as he "assisted" the Ferengi into the main area.  "Admiral Deacon," he growled, "I have found Mr. Rama."

[Ops]

Rama looked behind him and flashed a glare to the Klingon who had escorted him to the operations center. He stepped up to the Admiral and placed his wrists together and gave a slight bow. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Admiral Rachel?"

Raynor Hughes wrote:

After an awkward ride back to Ops, Raynor reached down, gripping Rama's collar as he "assisted" the Ferengi into the main area.  "Admiral Deacon," he growled, "I have found Mr. Rama."

Rama wrote:

Rama looked behind him and flashed a glare to the Klingon who had escorted him to the operations center. He stepped up to the Admiral and placed his wrists together and gave a slight bow. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Admiral Rachel?"

[Ops]

Turning as she heard the Klingon's distintive footsteps on the deck plates of the command centre, Rachel nodded to the large Klingon. She hadn't doubted that he would make quick work of finding the Ferengi, not when it concerned something that apparently irritated him to no end.

Ignoring the Ferengi for a moment, especially since he had decided to use her first name rather than the more appropriate surname and rank combination, she looked to Raynor. "A security patrol signalled strange organic readings from a maintenance conduit on deck 12, section 11. Since it showed up as dead on their scans, they have decided that someone from the sciences should probably take a look." It was a little used part of the station, where very few people ever went given that they were still relatively quiet in terms of interstellar traffic.

Finally turning to look at Rama, her expression turned distinctly unamused. "Mr Rama, first of all, you will respect the formalities of Ops and address me as Admiral Deacon. Secondly-" she plucked the stray Tribble from the console in front of her and tossed it to the Ferengi, hoping, for his sake, that she didn't need to ask for an explanation before he gave her one.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana frowned slightly as she listened to the two officers discussing sickbay's power problems.  She had never noticed that the power levels had ever come back up to normal, despite the fact that Myree seemed to think that they had been one of the first things to be fixed.

"I n-n-n-never n-n-noticed any ch-ch-changes in th-th-the p-p-power s-s-systems s-s-since th-th-they b-b-blew out," she offered, unsure if that would make any difference.  The more they knew, the easier it would be to fix, right?  Then again, there could have been changes during the times that Raynor had had her forcibly removed from sickbay in order to eat and rest, as was his habit.  Even if it was annoying at times, she couldn't summon any true irritation toward the Klingon for that.

However, she was hoping that the pair of them would leave the infirmary soon.  There was something about the Orion that was making her uncomfortable and uneasy.  She wasn't sure what it was, but she wanted to get away from it as soon as she could.

[Sickbay]

"Huh." It seemed like the most appropriate response. Though she was talented in messing around with mechanical things, it was far from her specialty. Myree was rapidly running out of the knowledge base her hobbyist mindset provided her. "That's definitely a problem, then. It's in the delivery systems themselves...sounds like a problem for Engineering." She smiled at Ilana, and then Kristen. "I think I know just who to ask about it! Let's go."

[Engineering]

Myree didn't check to see if Kristen was following her, but she assumed her friend was. There was a problem to be worked, and she tended to get excited when such things presented themselves. Sometimes too excited.

The Orion opened her mouth to speak as the bay doors of Engineering opened, but soon her nostrils were assailed by the smell of charred...fur? "Oh, gods," she spat, holding her sleeve over her nose. "Is something burning in here?"

Rachel Deacon wrote:

Ignoring the Ferengi for a moment, especially since he had decided to use her first name rather than the more appropriate surname and rank combination, she looked to Raynor.  "A security patrol signalled strange organic readings from a maintenance conduit on deck 12, section 11.  Since it showed up as dead on their scans, they have decided that someone from the sciences should probably take a look."  It was a little used part of the station, where very few people ever went given that they were still relatively quiet in terms of interstellar traffic.

[Ops]

"Understood," Raynor replied, nodding quickly. He appreciated Deacon's logic in sending him. If there was a problem to be studied, he was very capable of handling it. However, if there turned out to be a problem...well, he was capable of handling that, too. "Mister Rama..." Raynor said, grinning wolfishly as he passed the Ferengi. "Have a great day."

[Deck Twelve]

Things got quieter as Raynor moved deeper into the bowels of the station. Things were still bright and well-lit, of course - this was a Federation installation, after all. His Klingon nature sometimes wished things were darker and smokier. For some reason.

Raynor's footfalls were almost nonexistent now, which was a skill he had cultivated just the same as thunderous tromping. The only noise was from the tricorder in his hand, taking energy readings. The Klingon's predatory senses picked up the movement of someone else at the same time the tricorder told him he wasn't alone. Quickly, silently, carefully, Raynor reached behind his belt and pulled out his d'k tahg. The twin hinged blades popped out of the handle with a small chk sound.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

[Ops]

"Understood," Raynor replied, nodding quickly.  He appreciated Deacon's logic in sending him.  If there was a problem to be studied, he was very capable of handling it.  However, if there turned out to be a problem...well, he was capable of handling that, too.  "Mister Rama..." Raynor said, grinning wolfishly as he passed the Ferengi.  "Have a great day."

[Deck Twelve]

Things got quieter as Raynor moved deeper into the bowels of the station.  Things were still bright and well-lit, of course - this was a Federation installation, after all.  His Klingon nature sometimes wished things were darker and smokier.  For some reason.

Raynor's footfalls were almost nonexistent now, which was a skill he had cultivated just the same as thunderous tromping.  The only noise was from the tricorder in his hand, taking energy readings.  The Klingon's predatory senses picked up the movement of someone else at the same time the tricorder told him he wasn't alone.  Quickly, silently, carefully, Raynor reached behind his belt and pulled out his d'k tahg.  The twin hinged blades popped out of the handle with a small chk sound.

[Jefferies tubes, level 12]

Sigma hadn't received a response from Ops. Honestly, they hadn't expected one. Honestly, it seemed like their ears were off, at least to a petty officer with a Tribble in the conduits. "Vermin... In the tubes," the Deltan grumbled, peering irritably at the mass of charred the in their hand. "There's more where you came from, I'm sure of it."

With that, the Deltan stuffed the dead thing in their pocket and continued shuffling their way along. Theyd keep the creature for later, to keep as evidence for their grievances. It wasn't long until their movement in the corridor began to get... Dimmer, and as sigma looked ahead they saw why. A form was slumped there and was blocking the light from ahead.

Sleeping on the job? Sigma tutted and shuffled forward to prod them awake. Their metallic fingers pressed into the crewman's shoulder repeatedly, but he didn't stir. Sigma didn't bother to check for a pulse, by instead whipped out their tricorder. He definitely wasn't sleeping, but that wasn't what got to sigma.

What did that was the fact that the body was missing several of its internal organs.

"BaQa!" sigma swore loudly in surprise, jumping backward far enough to see the glint of a weapon out of a nearby hatch. Not good.

Sigma Nu wrote:

"BaQa!" sigma swore loudly in surprise, jumping backward far enough to see the glint of a weapon out of a nearby hatch. Not good.

[Section Twelve]

Hunched by the close quarters as he was, Raynor still was ready to spring into action.  The only thing that stayed his instincts was the very familiar sound of swearing...in Klingonese?  Raynor cocked an eyebrow, lowering his blade as he stepped out of the side-tunnel.  

He recognized the goldshirt as Sigma Nu, a rather odd Deltan who worked in Operations.  Raynor didn't know much beyond name and job, but he knew that the officer didn't claim to be either male or female.  He knew that rumor said it was a personal choice on Nu's part.  Raynor may not have known those details, but he did know that he and Nu weren't alone.

"Skulking around in corridors with corpses is a good way to end up like this one," he nodded to the dead body.  "What's happened?"  Raynor had lowered the weapon, but not put it away.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

[Section Twelve]

Hunched by the close quarters as he was, Raynor still was ready to spring into action.  The only thing that stayed his instincts was the very familiar sound of swearing...in Klingonese?  Raynor cocked an eyebrow, lowering his blade as he stepped out of the side-tunnel.  

He recognized the goldshirt as Sigma Nu, a rather odd Deltan who worked in Operations.  Raynor didn't know much beyond name and job, but he knew that the officer didn't claim to be either male or female.  He knew that rumor said it was a personal choice on Nu's part.  Raynor may not have known those details, but he did know that he and Nu weren't alone.

"Skulking around in corridors with corpses is a good way to end up like this one," he nodded to the dead body.  "What's happened?"  Raynor had lowered the weapon, but not put it away.

[Section twelve]

The weapon was attached to a Klingon, and thankfully, one that Sigma recognized. Raynor was known by name if not in person by them, and they somehow didn't figure him for one to surgically remove a handful of organs at once... Well maybe a heart, but no so precisely...

Right. Focus on the current situation.

"Pardon my saying so, lieutenant, but I'm not sure I'm the one here sulking around corridors," The Deltan said with a nod to the rather... sulky Klingon. Their heart was back to beating normally, but that didn't mean they weren't scared.

"I'm just here for normal plasma coil maintenance. I found one of these-" here Sigma paused to remove the charred tribbles corpse from their pocket briefly "-vermin in the coils. I was getting back to work when this unfortunate bastard showed up in my way. He's been gutted, from the inside. See?" The Deltan turned their tricorder toward the Klingon.

"Fascinating as it may be, it's also unnerving. Someone did this, and I don't know if they're still here."

Sigma Nu wrote:

The weapon was attached to a Klingon, and thankfully, one that Sigma recognized. Raynor was known by name if not in person by them, and they somehow didn't figure him for one to surgically remove a handful of organs at once... Well maybe a heart, but no so precisely...

Right. Focus on the current situation.

"Pardon my saying so, lieutenant, but I'm not sure I'm the one here sulking around corridors," The Deltan said with a nod to the rather... sulky Klingon. Their heart was back to beating normally, but that didn't mean they weren't scared.

"I'm just here for normal plasma coil maintenance. I found one of these-" here Sigma paused to remove the charred tribbles corpse from their pocket briefly "-vermin in the coils. I was getting back to work when this unfortunate bastard showed up in my way. He's been gutted, from the inside. See?" The Deltan turned their tricorder toward the Klingon.

"Fascinating as it may be, it's also unnerving. Someone did this, and I don't know if they're still here."

[Section 12 - Maintenance Corridors]

"You're right," Raynor said, his grin quite lupine. "You weren't skulking. An aged kolar could have heard you from thirty meters away." His grin faded to more of a rictus snarl as Sigma produced a tribble. The fact that the little beast was dead and well-done offered small comfort.

He glanced at the tricorder readings, wishing he could have a better look at the body. However, that would likely contaminate the scene more than they already had, and Shora would have his head for it.

=^="Hughes to Deacon. We need a security detail dispatched to this section, as well as everything sealed. There has been murder committed this day."=^=

Raynor turned back to the Deltan, cocking his head and giving the being a considering look. "Whoever did this must still be close by. This was done recently. Do you have any weaponry on you?"

Raynor Hughes wrote:

[Section 12 - Maintenance Corridors]

"You're right," Raynor said, his grin quite lupine.  "You weren't skulking.  An aged kolar could have heard you from thirty meters away."  His grin faded to more of a rictus snarl as Sigma produced a tribble.  The fact that the little beast was dead and well-done offered small comfort.  

He glanced at the tricorder readings, wishing he could have a better look at the body.  However, that would likely contaminate the scene more than they already had, and Shora would have his head for it.  

=^="Hughes to Deacon.  We need a security detail dispatched to this section, as well as everything sealed.  There has been murder committed this day."=^=

Raynor turned back to the Deltan, cocking his head and giving the being a considering look.  "Whoever did this must still be close by.  This was done recently.  Do you have any weaponry on you?"

[Deck 12]

Sigma would have liked to stay and go over their readings. Far from afraid now, the Deltan was fascinated as to how someone could steal that many organs without a trace. A marvelous little mystery. Still, the look on the Klingons face told them that there was still the matter of danger to contend with.

They couldn't tell if Raynor's question was meant to ask if they were prepared to defend themself if attacked, or to offhandedly pry into whether the Deltan had committed the murder.

Sigma answered quickly. "No technical weapons, unless you think I killed someone with a coil spanner." They were trying to be causal-- they had, after all, had nothing to do with the dead man until a few seconds ago. Sigma produced the coil spanner to show Raynor.

"Engineering crewmen aren't really in the habit of carrying phasers."