Lockdown

Posted on Jan 16, 2016 @ 4:52pm by Commander Jacob Crichton
Edited on on Jan 16, 2016 @ 4:53pm

Mission: Promethean

= Lockdown =

(cont’d from “The Descent”)

LOCATION: LAVENZA II Facility

SCENE: Guest Area

STARDATE: [2.16] 0116.1308

Jake Crichton was still considering the sealed docking bay doors when the sharp, steady drone of alarm klaxon filled the facility. Behind him, Evaer sat bolt upright in bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes, while Brass merely muttered something and rolled onto his side, pulling his pillow up to wrap it around his considerable lobes. Crichton turned to look at them, then the blinking display on a nearby console caught his attention. He moved to inspect the console just as Evaer was coming up behind him.

“What’s happening?” the Bolian asked.

“Alarm,” Crichton said unhelpfully.

“I can *hear* that much, Crichton,” frowned Evaer. “What’s *causing* it?”

Crichton stood aside so that Evaer could inspect the readout on the console. The screen only displayed two words, blinking in urgent red text, over and over: SYSTEM LOCKDOWN.

“The system is locked down?” Evaer said stupidly. Crichton rolled his eyes.

“Good, you can read,” he said.

The metallic rattle of holosuite doors sounded behind them. Goldstadt came out, his hair even more disheveled than usual. Behind him, Trixie emerged from her own holopod, straightening her clothes and looking disappointed.

“Who cut the friggin’ power?” Goldstadt bellowed. “Crichton, if you’re playing some kind game here--”

“Shut up,” Evaer said. “Get your clothes on and get over here.”

Goldstadt’s eyes widened slightly at Evaer’s tone, but he did as he was told. A moment later, he and Trixie had joined Crichton and Evaer by the console. Behind them, Brass was beginning to stir, finally sitting up in bed and staring dumbly in their direction.

“Some kind of alarm has been tripped,” Evaer explained. He was only providing information that was readily apparent to everyone present, but it made him feel better to say it out loud. It felt like the first steps on the path towards solving this problem, whatever it was. He turned to frown at Goldstadt and Trixie. “You weren’t messing around with those holocomputers, were you?”

“Didn’t need to,” Goldstadt said with an ugly leer. “The library was robust.”

Evaer’s eyes shifted to Trixie, who smiled coquettishly at him, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“It wasn’t me,” she cooed. “I was distracted.”

Evaer accepted this - he didn’t think either of them would know the first thing about hacking into a holocomputer anyhow. He turned back to Crichton.

“Crichton, did you-”

“Don’t pin this on me,” Crichton said. “While you sleeping and those two were creaming their jeans, I was the only one on guard around here.”

“Did you touch *anything*?” Evaer continued, ignoring the engineer’s objections.

“Yeah,” Crichton said. “The replicators. Same as everyone else. I was going to start fixing up the Lament when this started.”

They were all having to shout to be heard over the alarm klaxons, so none of them heard Brass as he approached. He seemed to suddenly materialize beside Evaer, and when the Bolian noticed the Ferengi pilot in his peripheral vision, he jumped and cried out.

“What is this noise?” Brass demanded, his tone having lost none of its haughtiness for having to shout over the sound of the alarm. “I was trying to rest! My skills require precision and focus, and I-”

“Shut up, toad,” Evaer said again, rolling his eyes. The Ferengi looked like he’d been slapped.

“That… that…” Brass stammered.

“Call the captain,” Trixie suggested. “Maybe they can turn this off from wherever they’ve gone.”

“Tried to,” Crichton said, sounding annoyed. “The system’s locked down.”


“Call the turbolift,” Trixie said. “If we can’t raise them on comms, we’ll go to them.”

“What part of ‘system lockdown’ are you having trouble understanding?” Crichton snarled, whirling on her as he did. “We can’t do shit, baby doll! None of the commands are working! No phone, no lights, no goddamn motor car!”

“Careful,” Trixie cooed again, not backing down, but actually smiling. Crichton scowled down at her for a moment, then the girl actually raised on tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose, before bouncing over to stand in front of the console herself. Crichton wiped away the kiss and shook his head, muttering something.

“That…” Brass said again, still staring at Evaer with wide eyes.

“The system is locked down,” Trixie said, pouting a little as she tried several times to activate the console. Each time, it responded with an angry buzz, rejecting any command she tried to input.

“Are you kidding me?” Crichton said. “I just told-”

“That was *disrespectful*!” Brass said, finally managing to get the whole sentence out. “I am a professional! I was hired to do a job because I am the best, and now you are standing in the way of my process!”

“Shut the fuck up, Brass,” Goldstadt growled. “Crichton, can’t you at least shut off this damn alarm?”

Crichton didn’t reply. He pushed Trixie away from the console and felt underneath it for the release clip. He found it, pressed it, and the front of the base of the console slid aside, revealing a tangled network of isolinear chips and cabling. Crichton reached in, yanking out chips, disconnecting and reconnecting cables, until finally finding the correct combination. The console screen finally stopped blinking the “SYSTEM LOCKDOWN” message, replacing it with calmer green text that read simply “STANDING BY…”

“You did it!” Trixie said, bouncing in place and clapping her hands.

Evaer stepped up to Crichton’s side as the engineer rose again and reached down to use the console’s controls. “What did you do?” the Bolian asked.

“Ran a bypass,” Crichton said. “This console should be back online now.”

“Shut off the alarms!” Goldstadt said. He’d brought his hands up now to clamp tightly over his ears. Crichton accessed the console’s command menu, toggled through a few subsystems before finding what he wanted. He activated the console, and a moment later, the shrill blaring of the alarm system halted. SIlence poured back in like a crushing wave, making the guest area seem cavernous, even foreboding, but for the moment the crew of the Annabelle’s Lament were too busy trying to shake the ringing from their ears to notice.

“Good work,” Evaer nodded to Crichton.

“Don’t be so quick to thank me,” Crichton said. “The alarm is still going. All I did was cut power to the speakers.”

“Whatever,” Goldstadt is. “At least I can hear myself think again.”

“What a terrifying experience that must be for you,” Brass chortled. Goldstadt turned, his fists balling up as he advanced on the Ferengi.

“What did you say, you little--” the former marine started.

“Cut it out,” Evaer said. When Goldstadt didn’t reply or slow down, Evaer stepped into the former marine’s path. “Goldstadt! Stand down!”

“You heard what he said!” Goldstadt said, glaring over Evaer’s shoulder at Brass.

“The Ferengi is protected,” Evaer said sternly. “Anything happens to him, *you* pay for it. You understand?”

“That ain’t--”

“Do you understand?” Evaer repeated, more forcefully than before. Goldstadt stared Brass down for another moment before cursing and turning away. Evaer nodded once, then turned back to Crichton.

“What systems do you have access to now?” he asked.

“None of the good ones,” Crichton said. “This console was for guests only, it had limited functionality even before the lockdown. There’s no turbolift control, no docking bay control, no backdoors into the primary facility systems.”

“What can you do about it?”

“Doodly-squat,” Crichton shrugged. “The console’s just literally not built for it.”

“What about comms?” Trixie asked. “Can we call the captain now?”

“Be my guest,” Crichton said. “If the console’s locked down on their end, they have no way to answer.”

Undeterred, Trixie stepped to the console. She pushed Crichton away just as he had done to her a few minutes before, and bent slightly lower over the console than she strictly had to, leaving her body at an enticing angle. Behind her, Brass stared, mouth slightly agape.

“Guest quarters to Captain Rainner,” Trixie purred. “Are you reading me?”

No answer. Trixie tried again.

“Cassidy, this is Trixie,” she said. “An alarm has been tripped in the facility. Are you okay?”

Still no reply.

“Nobody’s home,” Goldstadt said ominously.

“Doctor Conniston,” Trixie tried, sounding a little more desperate now. “Please respond. Doctor Conniston, respond! Anyone, respond please!”

Suddenly, the console’s indicator light switched from pulsing orange to steady green, indicating that the transmission had been picked up from somewhere else in the facility. Trixie’s eyes lit up, and Evaer was at her side at once, ready to take over the conversation if she got distracted, which she often did.

“Hello?” Trixie said. “Can you hear me?”

A moment of silence, then: [[This is Commander Aerdan Jos of the USS PHOENIX. Are you receiving?]]

Trixie’s eyes went wide, and she turned to look at Evaer. The Bolian looked similarly stricken. The crew exchanged worried glances as Evaer reached out to mute the transmission on their end.

“Told you they were following us,” Crichton said.

“That explains the alarm,” Evaer nodded. “They’re here for the data we stole.”

“And to arrest us,” Goldstadt said.

“Unacceptable,” Brass said. “My freedom is paramount. Per the terms of my employment, Evaer, I will expect you to do everything in your power to ensure-”

[[Are you receiving?]] came the voice again. [[Please respond.]]

“I’ll handle this,” Trixie said, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She turned and unmuted the transmission. When she spoke again, she sounded as desperate as ever, on the verge of tears.

“Hello?” Trixie cried. “Can you hear me? Please, I’m all alone, I… I don’t know what to do!”

[[Where are you?]] asked Commander Aerdan Jos. [[Are you able to deactivate the lockdown?]]

“No,” Trixie mewled. “Nothing is working! I barely got the comms back online!”

[[Don’t panic,]] the voice of Aerdan Jos said evenly. [[We can come to you. What is your location?]]

“I’m not sure,” Trixie siad. “I think I’m on the upper level. The pirate crew, they kept me locked up, but they never tell me where we’re going.”

[[Where are they now?]]

“Gone,” Trixie said. “I don’t know where, but they’re gone.”

[[Stay where you are,]] Jos said. [[We’re trying to access the facility’s main systems. Our engineer thinks it will take some doing.]]

Crichton looked up at the mention of their engineer. Nobody else seemed to notice.

“How many of you are there?” Trixie asked. “Because the pirates, they’ll kill you if they find you.”

[[Don’t worry about them,]] Aerdan Jos said. [[Remain where you are.]]

“I can’t stay here,” Trixie said. “I’m locked in, what if they never come back? I don’t want to die in here-”

[[Don’t panic,]] Aerdan Jos repeated. [[We’re coming. We’ll raise you on comms when we’ve made progress. Jos out.]]

The transmission was cut a moment later. Trixie raised up from the console, looking disappointed.

“He’s smart,” she said. “I think he knows I was pumping him for information.”

“And all you did was tell them where we are,” Crichton said, shaking his head. “Great job, Lolita.”

“We know where they’ll be,” Trixie said. “It give us a chance to be somewhere else.”

“Oh, sure,” Crichton said. “We’ll just make our escape through one of the many open doors and windows and… oh, right! There aren’t any!”

“Can you cut power to the turbolift doors?” she asked, undeterred by his mocking tone.

“How the hell is that going to help us?”

“Can you or can’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Crichton shrugged. “So what?”

“So after you’ve cut the power, all you strapping young men can force those doors open. If we can’t catch a ride to the lower levels, then we can climb.”

“That-” Crichton started, but then the words started to sink in and he trailed off for a moment. “...could work,” he finished.

“It’s our only way out,” Evaer said. “Do it, Crichton.”

Crichton sighed, but he went over to the turbolift, and the rest of the Lament’s crew trailed behind him. A moment’s work saw the control panel pulled open, its inner wiring spilled out like intestines. Crichton stepped back. “Power’s dead,” he reported grimly.

Evaer nodded. “Goldstadt, Brass. Help Crichton pull the doors open.”

“I do not do manual labor,” Brass complained instantly. “My contract clearly stipulates--”

“Maybe we can all just hang out in here until we suffocate?” Crichton suggested. “Sound like a plan, Dumbo?”

“Do it, Brass,” Evaer said. “We’ll worry about your contract later.”

“We certainly will,” Brass said, scowling at Evaer. “My uncle will hear of this.”

Despite his complaints, Brass took up a position near the doors next to Crichton. Goldstadt stood opposite them. The men worked their fingers into the doors and began to pull. Slowly, the doors parted, the sounds of scraping durasteel complaining loudly all the while. Eventually, the gap was wide enough for them to squeeze through. Crichton started down the turbolift shaft into inky darkness below. Beside him, Goldstadt was admiring the same view. The medic snorted, swirled a mouthful of phlegm around for a moment, then let the wad drop, sailing down the shaft and disappearing from sight.

“Disgusting,” said Brass.

“Just checking the depth,” Goldstadt sneered.

Crichton straightened and turned to look at Evaer and Trixie. “You got your way out,” he said. “But are you sure about this? I say we stay put, set a trap for the fleeters whenever they arrive. They think it’s just Trixie up here, they won’t be expecting a firing squad.”

“They want the data,” Evaer said. “Rainner took it with her, which means they’ll be coming for her. If they get their hands on it, we don’t get paid.”

“Unacceptable,” Brass said.

“The goblin’s got a point,” Goldstadt said. “I’m not gonna sit back and let them walk away with our payday. We go after them.”

Crichton didn’t look enthused, but he finally nodded. “Fine. We go.”

“Wasn’t ever your call,” Goldstadt said.

They took stock of their equipment before braving the shaft, not wanting to leave anything valuable behind in anticipation of their confrontation with the PHOENIX crew. Each carried a blaster, and Trixie had secreted away more than a few blades in the folds of her frilled dress. Crichton had his toolkit, slung in a brown rucksack over his shoulder. Unable to help himself, Goldstadt had returned to the replicators, but returned looking disappointed when he discovered that they were no longer functional. A moment later, they had gathered around the propped open turbolift doors again.

“I go first,” Trixie said, stepping up to the lip of the shaft. “I wouldn’t want any of you to get distracted from looking up my dress.”

=[/\]=

NRPG: This got longer than I expected, and didn't exactly go in the direction I had initially planned, so I'll call it here. The Lament’s crew have escaped from the guest area and are climbing down into the facility. Is there something waiting for them in the turbolift shaft? Also, did the PHOENIX crew buy Trixie’s play acting? Who’s more dangerous, the pirates or the creepy-crawlies? And remember, nobody knows about those yet, except for Cassidy and Conniston of course.

Shawn Putnam

a.k.a

Jake Crichton

Chief Engineering Officer

USS PHOENIX

and

Jake Crichton

Chief Engineering Officer

The Annabelle’s Lament