The Haunting of 419 - I
Episode Name: The Haunting of 419 - I
Written By: spider
Cast: Albertz, Bela, Javits, Kepler, Ohlasa, Randal, Shamash, Spider, Starfleet and Ti'ia.
Produced By: Starfleet
Directed By: Spider
Aired On: Sun Mar 14 22:56:27 2004
Stardate: 53946.7
Time: Thu Mar 11 11:12:02 2004
Stardate: 53938.3
Ohlasa wanders out of the bedroom, a fur draped loosely about her form and carrying a few small leaves in her hand. She rubs her eyes, yawning, and heads over toward the frosted glass coffee table complete with a small terrarium containing some odd flowering plants - and a purple worm-like thing. Settling down on the couch, she opens up the terrarium and speaks to the little worm in Andorian. "Hello, Hubert. Is it leafy time? Yes it is. Oh, don't we look a nice shade of purple today." Andorian warrior woman coos over Egranu worm. Who knew?
There's a subtle creaking -- the bulkheads settling -- and silence filled by the munching of the Egranu worm on its leaf. Deck Three's walls are well-insulated, leaving this room quiet and very, very empty-seeming when it's just one Andorian and a worm. It almost feels as if one can hear individual dust particles being sucked into the enviromental system's vents.
Ohlasa waits, poised, with another leaf in hand for the worm, antennae swung toward it... it is pretty much the only thing making noise, after all. Perhaps this is why she enjoys feeding it /and/ talking to it. Perhaps not. "I don't know when Akeen is coming back today. What do you think I should do, Hubert? I could go to the fitness center. I could look up how to play chess, though it might be more fun if K'net-mauri simply teaches me instead of me reading about it." JOBS: New REQ job # 314 submitted by Donavon: Grix Records
The worm turns its stubby little antennae toward the leaf, followed by the rest of its head; a very efficient maw opens and shuts around the leaf's edge, as it begins to move one set of legs and then the next to the leaf offered by the Andorian female. Soon enough, it's clinging to the edge of the leaf like a baby animal to its mother's fur.
From the room Ohlasa just left, a soft murmuring comes, as if someone's standing just out of sight, just beyond the doorway. "... nana." A pause, and then more muttering, just on the edge of even antennae-enhanced hearing. "I have days like that... ... all butterfl... ish... ... help it."
Ohlasa's antennae flick toward the bedroom. She carefully sets the leaf down in the terrarium, gently shuts the lid, and rises from her seat. The fur is left behind on the couch as she creeps toward the bedroom, hands curled into fists.
. o O Ohlasa thinks "This is very odd. Did Akeen leave a recording playing? He is always so careful with what he leaves around."
. o O Ohlasa feels curious, with some vague annoyance.
The voice becomes a little louder, naturally, as Ohlasa creeps closer; a second voice joins in, and then there's layering, like the two voices -- three? Five? -- are talking over one another. "... getting in ... doodle-time... here." "Quantum... sext... " "... flesh... sixteen." "... scen... first... and a... "
Ohlasa's antennae twitch again, wiggling about as she tries to sort the voices. She sighs, stepping more quickly into the bedroom to look around for any devices she can turn off to get rid of the quiet babbling.
<CONTEST> Ohlasa contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
There are no visible recording devices, nor does the sound appear to be originating from anywhere in particular. It's just sort of omnipresent; suffusing the air in the bedroom entirely. "... isn't really a factor... " "... luck... " The voices rise in volume sharply all of a sudden, though their tone doesn't change. "... territory... better... " "... used to... " "... bridge the gap ... spiritual... "
. o O Ohlasa doesn't like this. At all. A sharp feeling of fear lances through her, though it is immediately tamped down upon. A warrior masters her fear.
Ohlasa frowns, then raises her voice and speaks in Standard. "Hello?"
GAME: Ohlasa spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Ohlasa (claiming advantage) contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
There's no response from the voices, per se; they don't actually answer Ohlasa. They just continue babbling on, though the Andorian's able to pin down the source now: the voices seem to be materializing from thin air, from a spot just next to one corner of the bed. There are no visual cues to go along with the voices, and they don't seem to be abating or rising in volume at this point; just continuing. "... lefty." "... just scream ... my name... " "... fervor, child." "Suppress... "
Ohlasa stalks toward the bed, then jumps on it and sticks her head by the source of origin. Hmmn. She pauses, then hollers as loudly as she can, "HELLO!"
. o O Ohlasa thinks "I hope they can't hear me and Akeen here. Or maybe that's why they're tuning in. Whatever's going on. Perverts."
<CONTEST> Ohlasa contests her Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
There's no sense to the words or the sounds anymore. The only thing Ohlasa is aware of, after she shouts, is that all of the voices seem to be screaming senselessly right /at/ her antennae, INTO them somehow, THROUGH them. It's a pain so intense as to be outright exquisite; it feels almost as if her head might explode, and the screaming continues, like the senseless howling of wind over the mouth of an ice cave, but more, so much more, so much divinely more. Every hair on her body seems to stand on end of its own accord; the sensation is akin to having a million sharp needles driven into her antennae, and /through/ her antennae right into her skull.
Right.
Into.
Her.
Brain.
Ohlasa promptly screams, which likely doesn't help matters much at all. She convulses on the bed, clawing at the furs. Tears stream unbidden from her eyes; her screams turn to soundless wailings, though none the less pained.
. o O Ohlasa feels PAIN, sharp AGONY slicing into her, overwhelming all thoughts.
Time dilates and contracts, loses all meaning as Ohlasa drowns in her own auditory hell; the screams themselves cease the moment she falls back on the bed, but the ringing that follows them is so loud she might as well have someone clapping cymbals over each antennae. It takes over vision, tactile sensation. The aftermath of the voices and her own scream is so loud in her head that her eyes burst with red and purple, supernovas before the room and in the dark; they continue whether her eyes are opened or closed. Her own wailings further this repeated ringing, the bursts of sound like improbably hot snowballs splattering over her ears.
Time dilates and contracts, loses all meaning as Ohlasa drowns in her own auditory hell; the screams themselves cease the moment she falls back on the bed, but the ringing that follows them is so loud she might as well have someone clapping cymbals over each antennae. It takes over vision, tactile sensation. The aftermath of the voices and her own scream is so loud in her head that her vision bursts with red and purple, supernovas before the room and in the dark; they continue whether her eyes are opened or closed. Her own wailings further this repeated ringing, the bursts of sound like improbably hot snowballs splattering over her ears.
Ohlasa closes her eyes, but to no avail. She thrusts her fist partway into her mouth and curls up into the fetal position, whimpering despite her efforts not to compound this problem. It's taken over; instinct is to whimper. She can't manage to get together the thoughts to stop. Her antennae twitch spastically.
The ringing continues on... and on... and on... in the way of such things, it's difficult to tell when the ringing itself stops, and the crushing, blinding headache that follows sets in. Blue -- purple -- white -- in her vision, a intense pressure (like a band of steel tightening around her forehead).
By the time Ohlasa can gather the thoughts together to notice, the voices have long since stopped. There's no way to tell /when/ they stopped, but by the time the nausea sets in -- ironically around the same time she /might/ be able to sit up again -- they're gone.
Ohlasa bites into her hand, the taste of her own blood hardly registering, if at all. She lies still, breathing shallowly. At this point, she doesn't care if she pukes all over Akeen's nice furs.
Maybe, from the corner of the room, there's a soft whisper or three, formless, wordless. Maybe Ohlasa's just imagining it. Maybe it's just a phantom from her headache. Either way, the camera fades on the Andorian female, curled on her lover's bed, alone, only a crushing headache to keep her company.
< -- End First Section: The Haunting of 419 -- >
Time: Thu Mar 11 14:37:08 2004
Stardate: 53938.7
Javits is lying on his couch, still in uniform. His feet are propped up on one armrest while his head is supported be a small throw pillow. A full sized padd is held upright on his chest as he reads from the device, giving the screen an occasional tap with his thumb to advance the text. In the background, set at a muted volume, the unmistakable strains of bagpipes play, intermingled with the strident tones of brass and the beat of drums.
Somewhere in the middle of the music, there's a muddling of the sound, an odd distortion. It's not /supposed/ to sound like someone's talking and has stuffed bell mutes into the trumpets, is it?
Javits glances up from his reading with an expression of inquisitive annoyance, "Computer, pause audio."
. o O Javits thinks "Since when did internal systems experience a degradation?"
Over in the corner, there's a sound like someone's mumbling, as if they're standing just in front of the bathroom door. "... potent weapon... " Silence. "... casual... " Pause. "... murmur fear translation."
The engineer's eyebrows creep towards his hairline as he sits up on his elbows, the padd slipping to one side as he raises up enough to peer across the back of the couch in the direction of the bathroom.
. o O Javits thinks "What the heck is that?"
"... slipped mercy, peel the... " There could be more than one voice, or it could be only one. There's only one distinct one, a quiet, female-sounding one. Or is it a child's pitch? "... fortinb... faked the whistle... "
<CONTEST> Javits (claiming advantage) contests his Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
Javits sits up completely, swinging his legs around to plant his feet firmly on the floor. The padd is left on the couch as he reaches for his tricorder, sliding the device out of its pouch and activating it quietly. Setting his tricorder to record at its highest sensitivity, he points it in the direction of the sound.
. o O Javits thinks "I swear that sounds like Miss Havaris or her daughter."
<CONTEST> Javits (claiming advantage) contests his Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
GAME: Javits spends a courage point.
GAME: Javits spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Javits (claiming advantage) contests his Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!
As quickly as they started, the voices cease; silence now reigns over the quarters, save for the beeping of Javits's tricorder.
GAME: Javits spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Javits (claiming advantage) contests his Physical Sciences (Physics) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!
Javits stands and turns towards the bathroom, active tricorder still in hand, "Miss Havaris, Nua?" He calls out in a hesitant, quiet voice.
There is no response, only the quiet beeping of the Lieutenant's tricorder.
Javits peers over at the area of the bathroom door for a moment more, an inquisitive frown set on his features, before turning his attention to his tricorder. With a few taps of in the device's interface, he saves the recorded data. Deactivating the tricorder, he stows the device back in its pouch and sits back down on the couch with a curious slow shake of his head.
. o O Javits thinks "That's just odd. The tricorder reported a possible sensor blip as Birvax Waves, but those aren't a natural phenomenon. I should talk to someone in Sciences about this."
Silence. Stillness. There are no more words, no more voices from the air. There is only the sound of the Engineer's own breathing.
< -- End Second Section: The Haunting of 419 -- >
Time: Thu Mar 11 19:38:53 2004
Stardate: 53939.2
Randal is lying on the bunk in the cell, staring idly at the ceiling. He's humming rather tunelessly to himself.
Of the three cells, there are two occupied, now that Stewart's been released: one with Randal and one with Thrix-Toralin-Antos. In his cell, Antos snores lightly, and the holding cells are about as exciting as you'd expect them to be. Silent. Oppressive. Boring.
That is, except for the random babbling which starts all of a sudden over in the corner. It doesn't fade in, though it does blip in and out in the middle of wht sound like sentences. "... unspooled intestines... " "... just thought, freedom nine... "
Randal scowls, and sits up with abruptly to look toward the corner of the room where this strange voice seems to be emanating.
There's nothing there. It's an empty corner, one blank bulkhead wall intersecting with another blank bulkhead wall. "... slipped in thorazine... " "...wicked mint... " "... thought there was... " Two voices, now, three, a loud mumbling that somehow manages to echo around the brig and still sound far away.
From Holding Cell Two, Starfleet says, "Hello."
Randal frowns, trying to comprehend what's going on. He glances toward the brig proper area to see if maybe there is a guard there mumbling for some unfathomable reason. He then glances toward the bulkhead wall, and narrows his eyes. He swings his legs off the bunk and stands.
. o O Randal thinks "What the heck... there must be some crazies in the next cell."
It's just Randal, a few walls, and a snoring Bajoran would-be-assassin. No guards. No third party.
Unless you count the voices emanating from that empty corner right across the way. " ... tonight, I... " "... wished light... " "... fear alone, the slippery... "
From Holding Cell Three, Bela goes home.
From Holding Cell Three, Bela has left.
Unable to reconcile the fact that these voices are impossibly close and coming from a source he can't perceive, Randal does the rational thing and jumps to the conclusion that his cellmate is talking in his sleep. "Excuse me," he says with annoyance as he takes some steps toward the source of the muttering. "Some of us are trying to languish, here. Can you keep it down?"
The disembodied voices pay no heed to Randal's request that he be required to languish in peace. It's almost as if they're not listening to him at all. "... cloud seams... forged a break... pick out Lucien... " They remain at the same volume, a low hum underlaying all of them for a second, then disappearing.
Randal glances around the cell, from one wall to the other, with a frown and a look of apprehension. "Okay... this is starting to creep me out just a bit," he mutters to himself. He steps right up to the corner of the room and extends a hand toward the edge of the wall with a moment or two of reluctance.
. o O Randal is starting to feel a twinge of fear.
. o O Randal thinks "There must be a crack in the wall. And it's carrying voices from the deck below. That must be it."
There's absolutely nothing where the voices are; putting his hand in it produces no tactile sensations different from any other time that his skin's bombarded by random air molecules, various forms of radiation, etc. The voices, however, begin to fade almost immediately, slipping into incoherence and then into silence a few moments later.
Randal pulls his hand back as the voices disappear. After a second, he reaches out and touches the edge where the walls meet, running his hand to the floor. He doesn't seem ready to admit that the voices were the product of his imagination. Or that they defy explanation at all.
The voices swell up to whisper-level for a moment after Randal pulls his hand back, but then fade again. The scoundrel's hand run down the wall reveals no visual or tactile evidence of anything put a perfect weld between the bulkheads. There's no motion of air or difference in temperature as would indicate a crack or fissure in the bulkheads.
Randal frowns. He stands back up, and steps back a couple of feet, watching the wall, and waiting to see (or hear, rather) if the voices return or not.
Nothing. Just silence, save for the rhythmic snoring of the brig's other prisoner. It's the sort of silence where one's listening so carefully that the silence itself becomes deafening; it gives the sensation that one could almost hear dust particles settle.
Randal breathes out a sigh from the breath he'd been holding, and steps over to the bunk. He makes one more glance toward the corner of the room, then lowers himself to sit on the bed. He still seems very unsettled by this.
The voices don't return, leaving Randal alone with a snoring Bajoran and his own unsettled thoughts.
< -- End Third Section: The Haunting of 419 -- >
Time: Thu Mar 11 20:32:00 2004
Stardate: 53939.3
With a quiet break within her shift, Lieutenant Kepler takes advantage of it to help become familiar with the layout of the station, in the guise of patrolling the halls. It's nice, sort of leisurely, helps take the mind of problems... like failing exams.
Usually, this section of the mall is fairly well-trafficked. At this moment, however, it's quiet. The Lieutenant is, point of fact, the only person out and about -- rather strange for this hour of the evening, but not unheard of, certainly. As Kepler passes a planter full of bright blue teardrop-shaped flowers cascading down a jungle-green tower of leaves, a voice seems to slip out from within the plant. "... liquid furtive mixer face... "
Mentally, she was trying to dredge up and internally recite the standard operating procedure for force escalation during a boarding action, so Kepler almost misses it. She heard it, but sort of in the background. It is enough to make her glance over her shoulder, in case someone was there. Because plants don't talk.
Nope. No one's there. Just the plant. Doesn't appear that there's anyone hiding in the plant, either -- it's too small for that. Still, as Kepler looks back over her shoulder, the voice (voices?) return. This time, they're incoherent, and seem to be coming from the blank air /above/ the plant. All the same, they're there.
The boarding action is fading quickly, the young security officer taking a step back, not out of any fear of a vicious floral assault, but to get a better field of view. Kepler frowns, putting her hand to the tricorder at her waist, taking a moment to glance around. It would help decide which is imagination and which is not, but she doesn't feel up to explaining to anyone why she's scanning a random plant in a hallway.
"... fox spleen warm on the ... " "... high noon, far... "
Nothing else changes. The voices slip in and out out coherence (if that can at all be termed coherence).
Hesitant, Kepler slips her tricorder from its perch, then opens it. First screwing up exams left right and centre, now going insane. Great, just great. A fingertap engages a general scan, pointed at where the sounds seem to be coming from. Next thing to scan will be her head, at this rate.
GAME: Kepler spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Kepler (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Kepler (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
<CONTEST> Kepler (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
<CONTEST> Kepler (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Kepler contests her Physical Sciences (Physics) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
The voices fade not long after Kepler points her tricorder in their direction, and do not return. Now it's just her, standing in the Lower Mall, scanning a plant as a Bolian steps out of Electronic Solutions.
There's a pause, a beat if you will, as the Lieutenant stands there, tricorder in hand, apparently scanning a harmless fern. "Just as I thought," says Kepler, nodding if she had complete control of her senses, which is increasingly feeling like a veneer, "It needs watering."
This comment earns her an odd look from the passing Bolian female, who shakes her white-haired head slightly and murmurs to herself as she moves on, leaving Kepler with her thirsty plant.
< -- End Fourth Section: The Haunting of 419 -- >
Time: Fri Mar 12 22:36:55 2004
Stardate: 53941.9
Ti'ia pauses, "Hello, Soon-to-be-Doctor Hamish Albertz. How's the weather down there?" She smiles, brightly.
Albertz laughs, "Well...it's nae the rarified air of Ben Nevis, but I cannae complain. Wouldnae do me any good, anyway."
Ti'ia chuckles. "Probably not. So what's new in the infirmary? Any good gossip to share?"
The air down there is apparently talkative, as shortly after Ti'ia's question, about a foot behind Albertz and a half-foot to his right, a soft mumbling issues from, well, thin air. "... laid the... whiskered flame... next on... "
"Gossip?" the Scot strokes his chin thoughtfully and tries to conjure up something good. All he's able to come up with is a self-effacing laugh and a wide grin, "I not very well connected in that sortae information. The latest transfer news perhaps...but nae gossip." He blinks a couple of times at Ti'ia and cocks his head slightly, "Whiskers? Pardon? I missed that..."
Ti'ia furrows her ridged brow. "What? Whiskers?" She pauses, "Did you hear something?"
"Four and... max partition... soon the... " One? Two? Three? It's difficult to determine how many voices are overlapping one another, but there they are, not far behind Albertz, over a bare tile in the middle of a flowerbed.
"I thought ye
"I thought ye'd said sommat. But," Albertz turns at the waist, still sitting, and cranes his neck looking for the source of voices but seeing any number of people behind him. "Tha's strange..." he nods in response to Ti'ia's question, still looking for the source of the voices. "Aye. Sommat. But I cannae tell wha' it is."
Ti'ia blinks, her Bajoran-violet eyes widening a little. "All right. I'm getting a little freaked out here. This is weird." She reaches a hand toward the bare spot on the tile, where the voices seemed to originate.
. o O Ti'ia feels apprehension.
The voices dissipate, silencing the moment that Ti'ia's hand passes through the point where they seem to originate. Silence, now.
Ti'ia gives Albertz a questioning look.
Albertz raises a ginger eyebrow and mirrors Ti'ia's quizzical look. Rising to his feet he moves towards the spot over the tile, not creeping but moving slow and soft, as one might move towards an animal one's trying to avoid frightening off. He tilts an ear tileward, listening.
Ti'ia watches, wide-eyed, as her admittedly active imagination seems to be working.
Silence. Nothing. Whatever /was/ there appears to be gone, or at least not manifesting at the moment. The air seems somehow electric; it redefines the phrase 'pregnant pause.'
Ti'ia pulls back her hand, using it to nervously smooth her hair. "What /was/ that?" she asks, rhetorically.
"... swish, and... " whispers a single voice a moment after Ti'ia's hand is drawn back.
Albertz's com badge chirrups. "Lieutenant Haven to Ensign Albertz."
Ti'ia whispers, "Do you have a tricorder with you, Hamish?"
Albertz shakes his head. "I've no idea..." he says quietly. The Scot seems more curious than scared or concerned. He opens his mouth to answer Ti'ia but his answer is cut off by the voice issuing from his combadge. Tapping the silver chevron with one hand, the other reaches down blindly and unclips a tricorder from his belt. He holds the device out to Ti'ia.
Albertz taps his com badge. "Ensign Albertz here."
Ti'ia takes the tricorder, flips it open, and scans the area where the voices are heard.
Over Albertz's com badge, Haven says, "Hey, Hamish.. When you have a free moment, I need it. It doesn't need to be right *now* but soon. Alright?"
GAME: Ti'ia spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Ti'ia (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!
<CONTEST> Ti'ia (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
<CONTEST> Ti'ia (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
<CONTEST> Ti'ia (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
Ti'ia shakes her head. "Not finding anything unusual, Hamish." She still whispers, for some reason.
Into his com badge, Albertz answers in a terribly distracted, faraway voice. "Certainly doctor. I'll be in the infirmary...shortly?"
. o O Ti'ia feels Sort of a gleeful inner-child being frightened by a ghost story.
"... with the... hissing kiss... " The voice begins to fade even as Ti'ia scans, and is almost drowned out by the tricorder's bleeping.
. o O Ti'ia thinks "Ooh, my inner child is scared.... tee hee...."
Over Albertz's com badge, Haven frowns, you could, if paying attention, hear it in her voice. "Doesn't need to be right now.. just soon. Hope you're.. okay. You sound terribly off. Anyway.. just soon. Haven out.
Albertz's com badge clicks as Haven drops off channel. The channel closes.
Albertz speaks with Haven but is far more interested in Ti'ia and the tricorder. Angling himself accordingly so he can look over her shoulder and at the tricorder readouts. "There it goes again...shut off the tricorder a moment!" he's whispering now too.
Ti'ia flips off the tricorder.
Nothing. Silence. Whatever the voices /were,/ they seem to be gone now, leaving the half-Bajoran and human staring at a tile.
Ti'ia waits for a few moments, until it seems that whatever happened, isn't going to happen again. She hands the tricorder back to Albertz. "That was really odd," She says, with a delighted grin. "My inner child got a little scared."
< -- End Fifth Section: The Haunting of 419 -- >
Time: Sun Mar 14 21:46:01 2004
Stardate: 53946.6
Shamash is sitting in front of a computer console the seat partly reclined, with a PADD in one hand and a mug with an undefined beverage near his other. With his leisurely typing on the console or on occasion on the PADD, he gives the impression of doing routine work or catching up on past data mining.
The woosh of an opening door is Kepler's sign of entry, the young Lieutenant stepping in as if she'd made her way here with great purpose, coming to a stop like she wasn't sure what she'd do when she got here. "Um, Agrim?" quoth she, hoping to make sure it's really who she's looking for.
Shamash flops the Padd rather unceremoniously onto the desk as he resumes an upright position, "Evening, Katarzyna... what brings you here in these evening hours?"
"I had..." Kepler trails off. Words failing to satisfy, attempts to come up with new ones coming up with little. "Um, busy?" Don't want to disturb, nope.
Shamash smiles while folding his hands on the desk after indicating the seat on the other side, "At ease, I won't bite. At least, not know. Want to sit down, or were you asking me to close down the shop, eh?" beat "At this time of day, I usually do some catching up, so you disturbed nothing important, honest."
"I recorded some strange... uh... readings," Kepler starts, somewhat hesitantly. Watching in case the good doctor starts giving her a 'you're nuts' sort of look. "The other day. I wasn't able to figure out what they ment."
Shamash makes a circular movement with one hand, simply interpreted as go on, "aaand?", he smirks "You know, I don't generally like having to pull facts out of your nose. You are not an Ensign anymore, no need to be so hesitant.", another smirk "I promise I won't chew you out, okaY?"
A bit of a rueful smile, the Lieutenant glancing away. "Sorry. I've sort of been second guessing myself a great deal the last while. I've been having a rough couple of weeks." Kepler hands over her tricorder, unhitching it from whatever holds it at her waist, "It was in the Mall, just sort of randomly."
Shamash takes the tricorder from his fellow officer, and sets it to data copy mode to view the data recording on the large viewscreen. he gives back the tricorder after doing so and starts to study the data.
Shamash blinks, blinks a second time, then pulls up a second data block
Shamash taps his com badge. "Lieutenant JG Shamash to Lieutenant Javits."
Over Shamash's com badge, someone says, "Lieutenant Javits here."
Shamash looks over to Kepler, "Look at this, those two scans are almost identical...
Into his com badge, Shamash says, "Nick, if you got a minute, could you come over to the Sci lab one? I have to show you something about the data you gave me"
Over Shamash's com badge, Javits says, "I take it the analysis is complete?"
Into his com badge, Shamash says, "it is, and there is more. we had a second incident"
Oh. It's nonplussing, when when you were thinking you might just be insane, to find that you're probably not. "Oh. Uh. Yeah." Kepler glances over at the scans and nods softly, but it all means little to her. "This happened to someone else?"
Over Shamash's com badge, Javits says, "Well, I suppose that's a relief. I'll be there in a moment. Javits out."
Shamash's com badge clicks as Javits drops off channel. The channel closes.
Javits comes in from the central Labs area.
Javits has arrived.
Javits glances about as he enters the lab, focusing on Kepler for a second before turning to Shamash, "Lieutenant, didn't expect to find you here." He smiles, then looks to Shamash, his expression turning inquisitive, "What was this about a second incident, Agrim?"
The officer is recognized, Kepler offering Javits an absent sort of smile in greeting, but this is a science matter, so it seems, so security shall defer to Shamash.
Shamash sits behind his desk, two viewscreens behind him show different data, but a few key areas are highlighted, and are identical. When Javits enters, he looks around again, "Hi Nick. Kat, I hope you don't mind, but I sure can tell you, you are not nuts." grin. "I think you two should tell what you heard exactly, but it seems both of you experienced a technically similar occurance."
<CONTEST> Shamash (claiming advantage) contests his Physical Sciences (Physics) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!
Javits frowns a moment, then speaks slowly, glancing from Shamash to Kepler, "It sounded far more distinct than mere voices. I heard what sounded like snatches of a conversation, random words spoken by Miss Havaris Jiasha and her daughter Nua. I've no idea what the conversation was about, nor did I detect anything hinting at stress in the words either."
Javits adds with a deepening frown, "I do recall one phrase, 'potent weapon'."
"It's not a whole lot to tell, Kepler starts, glancing at Javits as she reattaches the tricorder to its perch at her hip, "I was patrolling the Mall, and I heard some random chatter from a plant." She shirks her shoulders gently, "Well, near a planet. I didn't recognize the voices, and I didn't understand anything that was said. I happened to have my tricorder, so I pointed it at the sounds and took a reading I didn't understand."
Shamash nods softly between the two officers, then turns around to the display, pointing out a few things here and there. "While this data alone, Nick, would have been too fuzzy, you can see here, here, and there, that the wave pattern are still quite similar. Let me add a perfect speciemen as overlay, and you can see how similar they are. What both of you recorded wer Birvax waves, after the discoverer. So far, those waves have never occured naturall, and I doubt it would have been now the first time to do so." he turns back at the two, waiting a moment for effect (and to write more)
Shamash sighs, "But those waves are utterly useless and no major studies have been undertaken for close to a decade as what you experienced is the only thing noteworthy: when the waves cross, they create an audio phenomenon within the human hearing range. ..so my first thought would be a practical joke.." another shrug, then he falls silent.
Javits nods slowly to Shamash, with a another glance to Kepler, "Correct. The only recorded instances in which Birvax waves have been generated are controlled lab conditions. This station, however, is far more than a simple strategic installation. The anomaly could be a source, or the source could be from another lab outside the station."
"Random conversations spreading over the station is a bit of a security concern," Kepler notes mildly, crossing her arms as she listens, "Even if it seems to be merely a talking plant. We should perhaps put out some sort of quiet notice, to see if anyone else has experienced something similar."
Shamash looks over to Javits. "Outside the station? Well, the waves are easily to nullify so we have two choices here, try to find out where they come from, ore we can change the stations internal sensor frequencies and the next regular sweep will clear the station."
. o O Javits thinks "Shame it's all locked to a level seven clearance. Otherwise I'd be willing to discuss the temporal events surrounding the anomaly. Well, some of them at least."
<CONTEST> Javits contests his Systems Engineering (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
Javits regards Shamash with a frown, as if in thought, then pulls out his padd and activates the device. After a few taps on its display, he looks back to the science officer, "Birvax wave detection can be added to the internal sensors scanning sequence. It shouldn't be all that difficult to detect them. I'll have to send a request off to Lieutenant Medes for the changes to be made."
"I'm not completely understanding this whole wave deal," Kepler muses, standing there and probably very pleased she isn't certifiable, "Besides throwing voices around, is there anything else it did? Could it pose a risk to anyone?"
Shamash nods to Javits, "That would at least satisfy some curiosity as to where they might come from, yes. " he shifts his attention back to Kepler "Well, there have been no in depth studies to the nature of these waves, Kat, simply because no one deemed them all too useful, but I would imagine that they were at least analysed for possible dangers."
Javits looks to Shamash with a nod, then to Kepler, "The information I found in my research classified them as benign." With a glance to Shamash, he turns back to Kepler, "A quiet survey regarding inexplicable events aboard the station should be undertaken, particularly in regards to the events we have witnessed. There's already a rumor running about the station about this. I'm fairly certain that I'm the source of it."
She leans against the desk, half-sitting on it really, arms still crossed as she tries to make sense of things. "Well. Fine, I guess. I'm glad we have you science guys around to keep mind of these things, but I think I'll be happier when we have some sort of explaination. Kepler glances at the readout for a moment, and its arcane graphics, "I like when I understand what's going on."
Shamash holds both hands up in a defending gesture "Hey, it wasn't me Nick and if you can squish that rumor by trying to get to the grounds of this, by all means, do. But I told you as much as I know about the Birvax waves, anything else would need more time." pause "And then there is the point if that would be worth it, you know?"
Javits grins at Shamash with a shake of his head as he continues tapping at his padd, "Oh no, I'm not worried about that. I'm hoping that the rumor will start people to talking. Perhaps others have experienced something similar and will come forward with their reports as well." He taps one last sequence on his padd, "As for reports, one has been opened for engineering in regards to the sensor recalibration, with an explanation." Looking first to Kepler, then back to Shamash, he continues, "Agrim, you may want to open a public report about this matter, with an explanation and a request that those who have recently had similar experiences come to you. We'll need to notify Lieutenant Laco as well."
Shamash smiles to Kepler "Well, Thanks for bringing that data to me, Kat. Even if I could not really help you here other than telling you, your findings were correct?" attention back on Javits, "An engineering file? Can't say I have access to those, sorry, even if it would have interested me quite a bit." beat "A general file? From me? You'll owe me, Nick, but okay, I see no harm in that."
Javits shrugs unsurely to Shamash as he deactivates and stows his padd, "I could post one, but you're the focal point as the head of the physical sciences section. This matter is not one that security or engineering can handle, aside from providing information and material support."
. o O Javits thinks "Take initiative, Agrim. This is yours to make or break as you see fit."
"Thanks for pointing that out, Lieutenant," Kepler says, smiling faintly, "I was going to ask if it was something that I'd have to write something up on. I don't think it's anything that Security can do much about anyway."
Shamash bobs his head left and right as if not all too comfortable with having that job fall in his lap, but he manages a chuckle, "So I am going to try to write a tactful way of telling station personel that if they hear voices, they are not insane but should report to me. Station Counselor will love me for it. - I think i have to be careful of how I word that particular request." He taps a few keys on the console behind him, clearing of the display, then returns to his fellow officers, "So... "
Javits brings his hands together with a smile to Shamash, "If you like, I could write it with a note referring all inquiries to you. I'm interested to know if this phenomenon extend beyond two isolated incidents. If there are others, it would certainly help to alleviate their concerns of mental imbalance."
. o O Javits thinks "This is a matter which warrants analysis. Why are you waffling?"
"And I suppose I could make mention of it within the Security logs. It'll certainly make people careful about chatting about confidential stuff, I guess," Kepler says, smiling, "I can see people starting to pass notes back and forth."
Shamash softly chuckles "I do not have a problem in requesting something from a fellow fleeter, but when it comes to Civis, I have the tact and diplomacy of a sledgehammer. So if you can help me to avoid a panic, by all means, be my ghostwriter." A look betwen Javits and Kepler, "I think we have everything settled?"
< -- End Sixth Section: The Haunting of 419 -- >
