What the Hell Was That Thing?

Posted on Sun Dec 1st, 2024 @ 6:56pm by Lieutenant Commander Emni t'Nai & Lieutenant Cassian Maritz & Lieutenant Paisley F'Rar & Andrew Munro & Ensign Brian Davies

Mission: Mean Green Queen
Location: Junior Officers' Quarters 4-13
Timeline: Mission Day 5 at 1200

[Junior Officers' Quarters]
[Mission Day 5; 1200 Hours]
[Following the Events of Red Flags ]

Room 4-13 looked like a low-budget space horror gore holo- the type that was a recent production fad out of Freecloud, Nimbus III or Tulia Prime. Its layout was virtually the same as any Junior Officers' quarters: rectangular living space, dining table for four, chairs, a couch. To the left of the door was the door to the washing room. Across the small living space were two doors that led into two-person dormitories. It was a step up from the "shelf community" that was the sleeping cubicle hall of the Enlisted. And it spoke definitively of the Sojourner's tight living spaces.

The lights flickered from above, the only source of window light and streaking stars was above from the skylight-type slotted windows. There was an unnerving arcing buzz coming from a bulkhead that was visibly dented. That dent had damaged controls- and possibly power conduits- leading to the source of the buzz- the replicator. Its LCARS panel was wildly cycling through controls stuck in a glow of reds and whites. It hadn't gotten the message that the intruder alert was over with.

The panel blinked with an error and then went back to trying to cycle through the LCARS. A discarded weapon, smelling of burnt metal and ceramic, laid on the soaked carpet. It resembled something like a portable flamethrower. The wall nearby was heavily scorched and carbonized, and the pitted marks and large blast craters of a phaser nearly exposed the right-side dormitory to the common room. Its doors had been knocked off their guides.

Then there was the odor. Blood, coppery and sick. There were several small concentrations of it: one where the flame thrower sat, the other near the dented bulkhead. But the reel reek was something wholly alien. At first its smell was sweet and sickly, like rotten citrus. It had a plasticky reek, and the odor of charred bones and crispy marrow.

The body was at the heart of the reek- if one could call it a body. It more resembled a misshapened lump of melted reddish-purple plastic, its edges carbonized black and made crumbly. Bits of the same material had exploded and pelted every wall and every piece of furniture within three meters. Strange, glassy barbs resembling wicked harpoons were embedded in the bulkheads near the door, near the replicator and in the ground near the flamethrower.

An alarming pop and sizzle came from the right-side dormitory, a flickering blue light within.

Paisley was the first one to answer the ticket that Security had sent. She had already sent most of the others out on various tasks around the ship, and that left her and the Chief available-and he was doing duty rosters. She was a hands-on leader, always willing to do the dirty work-she liked it, anyway. So she'd left the supply room restocking, grabbed a kit, and hauled her ass upstairs. She paused outside of the location she was given. WHAT IN THE PROPHETS?! She peeked in. "What the hell happened here?" She asked. "Let me go get a hazmat suit," she said, turning to find a general replicator in this corridor.

Hours. It had only been a matter of hours. Emni t'Nai stalked down the deck four corridor to the door where she had dropped off Lieutenant Junior Grade Joshua Peters mere hours ago. She had a headache. The kind that came from too many things happening all at once. And she desperately wanted lunch--or at least a fresh cup of coffee. After dropping the security chief off in his quarters she'd returned to her own where a pile of PADDs awaited including the transfer orders for more officers than she was ready to lose. Two, in particular, were in limbo and she was awaiting the final word on if they would stay or be sent back to Pathfinder Station. Just the thought of that change made her wince and, on a personal note, tinged most things with sadness.

Empathic sense on high alert, the Romulan woman slowed as she rounded a bend in the corridor. The emotional signature ahead was familiar, but only slightly and she realized it must have been someone she'd just met. Perhaps Maritz, or maybe F'Rar. She certainly hoped it wasn't the emotional signature of the creature that had pretended to be Peters. If it was then she was more than a little bit concerned about what they were walking into. The report had indicated the creature was... well... dead. But caution was always the right choice. Just to be safe, Emni drew her phaser and held it loosely at her side as she came to a halt outside of the quarters in question.

4-13. What was it about this group of officers... or maybe this quarters... that seemed to draw such unusual crises?

Paisley returned, clutching an armful of hazmat suits with her leather-like hands. "It's a mess in there," she said. While she'd been gone, the hurt and ill had been transported to Medical. That would allow them to work. "You're going to need one of these," she said, sighing deeply, but stepped into hers. "Did you look?" She asked. "Paisley F'rar, by the way. I think we met earlier," the Carjoran clarified. "Engineering." She was NOT paid enough for this kind of thing. "Does this sort of thing happen regularly on the Sojourner?" She asked.

The Romulan XO's eyebrow crept up, and a bemused smile crossed her lips. "I suppose that depends on if you mean exploding aliens or if you mean unusual encounters?" She said back, tilting her head slightly and then continuing her comment. "If you mean the former, no. I can't say we frequently have exploding aliens that require an entire hazardous materials team along with science officers and an engineering consult." She turned her head, peering back through the door again. "Unusual encounters though..." she added, drawing it out... "I'd say it's not entirely uncommon. The Delta Quadrant has her share of... unknowns."

While she'd spoken the engineer had stepped into her suit and was nearly done pulling the thing into place. With a small shrug Emni began to do the same, sliding her booted feet into the legs and then tugging things into place over her uniform. "Here's to an interesting first day?" she said, posing it as a question though the sentiment was more rhetorical.

Paisley smiled. "I did mean the former, yes," she said. "So, exploding aliens only happen when on my shifts. Got it," she said, jokingly. "Interesting, indeed. He seemed like a nice guy in his human form, but I guess you never really can tell, can you?" She said. She pulled her inky black hair back and secured the helmet. "I'll let you go first...ma'am," the Hybrid woman said.

With a half smile Emni nodded and stepped through the door and then to the side so Paisley could enter after her. Her eyes scanned the room, floor to ceiling with a stoic expression that hid the sort of well this is a new level of mess awe that she felt. For a moment she considered what Karim would make of this and then squashed that thought thoroughly. Karim was on a shuttle. It would seem more than a little unusual for her to hail a shuttle that had just left so she could talk to the Vulcan about something that only tangentially related to his skills. Pushing that aside she determinedly focused on the spot near the middle of the room that could best be described as the blast zone and pulled out a tricorder.

Cassian was the next to arrive, having rushed out and away from what he was doing so he was still trying to put his jacket back on when his senses were assaulted by the mixture of smells. Being smacked in the nose the night before didn't really compare to this and he put an arm across his nose and mouth to try and keep the smell out until he was able to get a face mask or something.

Spotting the XO and Paisley, he walked over to them while still surveying the scene before them. "I feel like I'll be needing one of those suits if I have to be here any longer." He then turned the others, "Commander, Lieutenant. What in the Gods happened here?"

With a brief incline of her head Emni acknowledged the new chief's arrival. Her mental defenses were already high in a bid to keep from being distracted by everyone's reactions as they arrived, but she still couldn't quite eliminate the intense recoiling feeling that came from Maritz at the smell. "That seems to be the question we're all here to try to answer," she commented before nodding her head toward the pile of hazmat suits just outside the door. "Probably best to suit up before we discuss. It's the kind of smell you can taste."

Paisley smiled, and hollered down the corridor. "Hey, Cassian!" She shouted. The Carjoran was loud, and bubbly, and she sometimes forgot that that other people sometimes, as a former counselor put it, "felt a little bombarded by her intense energy." She toned it down as he approached closer. "Not sure, but I AM glad I missed it," she said, wrinkling her nose to reveal a single Bajoran ridge-a thing that was nearly invisible unless she was highly anxious or excited. "You'll need a Hazmat suit. And a strong stomach," she said. Luckily for her, not much phased her, and she was ready to go. "Make sure you wear a helmet, only the Prophets know what that...schmaltz is." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Does anyone need help with their suit?" She asked. "Maybe I should get a fire extinguisher, just in case something starts to catch fire from the...goo. Oh my Prophets, do you think it was a party we missed or something?!" She asked.

Andrew hurried along the corridor, carrying a bulky case from the biolab filled with tools and containers for extracting and preserving biological samples. He was alarmed to see a small group gathered outside familiar quarters, all dressed in protective gear. A knot of worry formed in his stomach, but his training kicked in, reminding him to find a protective suit before approaching. Thankfully, someone had left a small supply of suits a safe distance from the doorway. He set the case down next to the suits with a muted thump, signaling his presence.

"Mr. Munro," came a warm voice from behind. "Figured they'd call you down here, too," Ensign Davies said as he came to stand next to the civilian biologist, picking up a suit for himself. The garments were designed to shrink and expand as needed to accommodate whatever kind of body they were needed for. It only took a few moments for the handsome, bearded entomologist to shrug on his suit and affix the headgear in place. Now speaking from behind the clear faceplate of his helmet, Brian said, "Kind of an all hands on deck situation, it sounds like. Appreciate your help." The smile he offered Andrew was kind and inclusive before the scientist moved to head into the room.

His steps stalled, however, as the state of the room assailed his senses. Green goop was everywhere and it looked like a Tarcassian razor beast had trampled around the room kicking everything in sight. "What the hell?" Davies asked, jaw dropping.

"That does seem to be the prevailing question," Emni commented wryly as the two scientists approached. Through her protective gear her face was harder to see, but she hoped what she did offer added the tiniest bit of levity to what was, she felt confident, going to be a bizarre and confusing examination. I was actually hoping by the end of this you might at least be able to explain the what if not the rest."

She sighed then and crossed her arms. "Five officers, two security officers and three of this room's occupants, were beamed directly to sick bay less than an hour ago. From what little we have been able to glean this," she gestured through the door, "is what's left of the 6th roommate." She glanced between Maritz and F'Rar wondering if they had figured it out yet. The two of them had spent weeks with Josh Peters on the shuttle and she knew, eventually they would have to discuss if anything had seemed off about him. That discussion would have to wait until after the had evaluated the room and confirmed there was no further danger to the Sojourner's crew.

"Mr. Peters," she continued, careful to keep her tone neutral, "had only been on the ship a few hours and until this point we had understood him to be human." She looked around, lowering her mental defenses slightly to let in trickles in hopes of gauging everyone's reactions to this detail.

Cassian could feel his pulse quicken slightly at the mention of Peters' name, but he tried to school his features into neutrality, "Peters? I knew something was off about him."

Paisley nodded. "Yeah, he seemed a bit...tense...on the way in," she said. "Damn," she said. "Well. I guess it's better that he's dead NOW, huh?" She joked. Luckily for her, she'd been able to hold the man at arms' length, though he'd flirted a bit hard from the gate. She made it a rule to not date humans, though. But he wasn't quite, was he? Oh, well. "Are you ok?" She asked Cassian. They had arrived together-the three of them-and while they hadn't known each other long, they HAD shared a Kanar. Certainly, that meant something, right?! She sniffed a little. "Stinks in there."

Cassian waved his hand in a dismissive way, "Oh, I'm perfectly fine. I..." he stuck, looking for the words, "I wasn't too phased either way. The feeling I got from him on the shuttle when I said that I was going to lay down for a bit was like relief? He was being almost possessive in some ways? I dunno, but I don't think it should've gotten this far either way.

Paisley simply nodded in agreement. That much had been true enough. WEIRD.

The reactions that came from each crewman was what she'd expected and knowing that Emni lowered her mental walls a bit further, relaxing back into the norm of using her empathic sense more like a 6th actual sense than any kind of really powerful telepathic skill. "Ok," she said after they'd had a moment to process, "who wants to go in first?" She said it with enthusiasm, but so much that it was hard to miss then joking tone behind it. She wouldn't make any of them start in reality so before anyone else could respond she stepped into the room and then to the side, eyes scanning everything while her mind tried to make sense of the scene.

Paisley nodded at Cassian. "Yeah, he was...a lot," she said. "Damn, too bad. It would've been fun to lock him in the Jefferies' Tubes for a few days, and "accidentally" lose the code," she said. She was half joking. But only half. She was about to volunteer to enter when Emni started ahead. "Ma'am, do you think it's..." she stopped speaking before she said "safe" because boy, would that be a dumb thing to say. Instead, she followed the Romulan.. "I guess I'll start assessing fire damage," she said, wrinkling her nose to reveal two nearly-invisible ridges that indicated that she was, indeed, a hybrid and had at least a BIT of her mothers' genetics. "Helmets," she said, gently reminding the others. As the helmet went over her head, she continued to speak, the heat from her breath fogging the view screen. "I will also check the refresher room and the adjacent quarters. Are they all empty? I assume everyone was sent to either auxiliary quarters or sickbay?"

Emni was already inspecting a person-sized mark on one wall where, she assumed, someone had been tossed. "They should be empty," she said, not looking up from the dent. "We sent some dots in for a sweep afterward and no lifesigns were detected along with no video evidence of anyone remaining. Still worth proceeding with caution," she said, looking up at the last comment and offering a kind nod toward the new engineer.

As the other officers initiated their investigation, Andrew sighed, reflecting on the challenging task ahead. Residue covered nearly every visible surface, and there was little, if any, visual distinction between different splatters. The sample containers he had brought were equipped with advanced features, including the ability to replace the internal atmosphere and control temperature to prevent sample degradation. However, while scans would provide some initial information, the task of determining the optimal preservation setup would require hands-on experimentation. Additionally, they needed to ensure they had enough viable samples for comprehensive analysis back in the lab. It had been a while since he had done such extensive sample collection himself.

"I suppose I should start gathering some of this... material," he said to Ensign Davies.

"I'll help," the exuberant entomologist replied, moving forward to assist. Davies worked with Munro in Science Lab 1 and, over the last few months, had developed a good working rapport -- at least, when Brian wasn't bringing gruesome (to others) insects out of transporter storage for study and the occasional feeding. But sharing a lab had bred familiarity with the civilian doctor and more than a modicum of respect for the talents the man brought both to the table. He hadn't been lying when he said he was glad Andrew had been summoned to the scene as well. Affixing his eyes forward, the ensign began picking his way through the room, on the look out for samples big enough to collect and study. "Is that...a unicorn slipper?" Davies suddenly asked, pointing at something even further into the room and on the floor.

The once pristine white unicorn slipper -- one of a pair, though who knew where its mate was -- lay engulfed in a large blob of acid-green alien goop that hissed and bubbled faintly on the floor. The slipper’s fuzzy material had been soaked through, half-dissolved by the corrosive substance, leaving jagged, uneven edges where the fabric had once been whole. Its rainbow mane, which no doubt used to stand as a cheerful tuft of vibrant color, now drooped limply, some strands completely melted away while others were stained a sickly yellow-green from the goo. One of the unicorn’s glassy eyes remained, staring vacantly, while the other had been completely eaten away by the alien slime, leaving behind a sad, hollow socket.

The unicorn’s cheek lights -- normally a happy dance of ROY G BIV hues -- flickered erratically, like the twitching of a dying creature, flashing off and on with an uneven, spastic rhythm. The dim light seemed to fight for life amidst the spreading ooze, its intermittent pulsing eerily reminiscent of the failing motor functions of something on the verge of shutting down for good.

Yeah, they, uh, were..." Andrew's voice broke, trailing off. A knot of anxiety, pushed aside until now, surged forward, twisting his thoughts in a tangle of fear and doubt as his gaze fixed on the damaged slipper. The sight unraveled his composure, pulling his mind into a loop of nagging questions: Was Iry here? Was Noah? Is Shelly... alive?

He’d been with them when the previous doppelganger crisis struck, side-by-side, facing down the terror of those holographic imposters. But now, irrational as it seemed, a guilt gnawed at him for not being here this time. His hands twitched to finish his work, but Davies’s expectant look held him, nudging him to regain control.

Shelly's slippers would have been here whether or not he was, he reminded himself, fighting to quell the nagging unease. The only concrete evidence of death here lay in the dissolving alien remains at his feet, their acrid residue steadily eating through the slipper. That alone should tell him something useful.

The rate of dissolution was meaningful, he noted, as was any degradation in the alien’s remains. He couldn't afford to let his mind wander, not now. Focus, Andrew, he thought, grounding himself in the task.

“They are Ensign Parsons’s slippers,” he stated finally, his voice steady and controlled, as if his own resolve had crystallized with those words.

"Nothing," came Paisley's shout from the Refresher room. "It looks like the majority of the mess is in the living spaces," she said, moving on to the next area. "Ooh, in here, too," she called out. Ew. She was stepping gingerly, careful to avoid spreading as much of the...goo.... as possible. A look of pure distaste crossed her face. She sighed, and returned to the first room. "The attached room is equally bad, but the refresher seems like it was just...caught in the middle, as they say," she said. "I will begin to pull wires, make sure nothing is still hiding in the bulkheads," she said, moving towards her kit to remove a spanner and decoupler. She was going to check, first, behind the computer panels in the walls. If those were ok, she was inclined to just transport all this stuff out into deep space and explode it, and start over.

Though she had felt the surge of emotion from Andrew Munro, Emni had studiously continued her examination of the bulk head. She'd long ago learned that folks tended not to react positively when she suddenly seemed aware of their heightened emotions. Instead she waited for things to settle before moving towards the slipper that the two scientists had been discussing. It did, indeed, offer gruesome evidence of the creature's abilities... even posthumously. An errant though led her to wonder if the thing was... in fact... dead... or merely in some kind of stasis. She found herself fiercely hoping it was the former.

"Once we've gotten everything we want we should transport the rest off ship," she said matter-of-factly. "Just... to be safe..." She sighed and stooped, inspecting the slipper more closely and feeling a moment of relief that the occupants of these quarters had already been sent off to sick bay where, hopefully, they would find themselves quickly back to normal.

"I don't have a great deal of information," she said absently, more to the general space than to any one in particular, "but I gather Mr. Parsons was the one who actually stopped the thing with a makeshift flame gun." She looked up and around at the walls, estimating the distance from the slipper to the center of the goop. "Apparently at fairly close range."

Paisley acknowledged Emni with a nod. "That's what my gut says-let science get what they need, and then we beam this junk outta here and make it go 'splody out in deep space," she said, from her spot on the floor, where she lay supine, cutting a small hole into the bulkhead. "Crap, Parson's flame gun trick, while brilliant, also melted some of the wiring. I figured as much when I saw the burn patterns on the bulkheads and decks," she sighed. "Well. This whole section of quarters will need to be evacuated and redone," she said, hopping to her knees then to her feet. "I can get a team in here once it's cleaned," she said. "Which I am also inclined to say-burn it all down, and let me rebuild it from ground up," she said. Ew.

Emni nodded and looked around the room again, considering the hours of work ahead and the call she needed to make to the Quartermaster who would, certainly, not be thrilled about finding a temporary berthing for the displaced crew members.

"Agreed," she said with a nod to the engineer and then, with a sigh, she added, "We might as well get to it."

=/\= A Mission Post By =/\=

Lieutenant Commander Emni t'Nai
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Cassian Maritz
Security Chief

Lieutenant Paisley F'Rar
Engineering Chief

Ensign Brian Davies
Science Officer

Andrew Munro
Biologist