What the Hell?

Posted on Wed Jun 30th, 2021 @ 1:19am by Captain Björn Kodak & Lieutenant JG Sheldon Parsons & Maje Jaha Veeth & Lieutenant Chaali & Ensign Noah Balsam

Mission: The Place of Skulls
Location: USS Sojourner; Computer Core Control Room; Main Bridge
Timeline: Mission Day 4 at 0200

[Starship Sojourner]
[Computer Control Room]
[MD4: 0200 Hours]

Noah Halman Balsam leaned back in his chair with a squeak. An artichoke and turkey sandwich, neglected by its eater, was warming on the flat of his console while he perused his PADD with dark eyes. His mouth was quirked into a bemused smile, cheeks flushed while he read this particular chapter of Barbarella Beyond, a late 21st-century reimagining of a cult classic. The coltish Cadet tilted his chair back and was about to put up his feet when his console squawked at him. "Index." He said with a stumbled. "Sh-shit." Noah had forgotten where his feet were and he knocked over a soft drink. It flooded down his pant leg and dribbled like a weak waterfall off the console and onto the floor. "Shit. Replicator. One towel, plush, sterile." He lankily crossed between his seat and the replicator in less than a full stride, snatching up the cloth. He squatted and began to quickly mop up his drink.

He blinked, realizing the androgynous, bald figure of Index was staring without expression at him. "You didn't see this, OK?" He said. Index merely blinked, awaiting a command. Noah shifted weight and then shifted the cloth in his hand to mop at the controls. It wasn't like those antiquated days that keys had mechanisms. His cola was a mere inconvenience to the transparent aluminum protection over the haptic mesh and bio-quantum dots beneath.

"Index," he said on his hands and knees for a cursory second go at the floor, "State results."

The androgyne spoke, "Diagnostic complete. System nominal. Do you wish to reintegrate?"

Noah stood up with a conscious sway to make sure he didn't wrack his head against the underside of the console. "Yes, please. Pull Rho 112 through Rho 455 offline. Reroute traffic through Recursive Sigma 112 through 455. Puh-please." Index merely blinked. Noah bent a knee and took off his boot. "Replicator. Standard uniform pants, 30 waist, 36 leg," Noah tucked his chin to his chest and undid his pants. With a flush he looked at Index. "Uh. Hide Index." The Androgyne phased out.

Noah finished undoing his trousers and got them over his feet. He dropped them with a swap in the replicator and pushed the reclamation protocol with a pinky. He was about to push a foot through the leg when his panel squawked. "Wuh-what the Hell?"

Noah peered at his console and stumbled to flick at the holographic. "Computer. Emergency isolate: Kappa-Recursive 114. Block all traffic."

"Unable to comply." The computer stated, this still the disembodied standard of a Federation computer.

Pants having been forgotten, Noah leaned down on his console, fingers going into quick motion. Sections of his holographic were starting to turn orange and then red. "Computer, activate firewall protocols Kappa 100 through Kappa 300. Maximum containment." It chirped at him, his eyes searching the information in front of him, "Time to breach?"

"Three minutes, forty seconds." The computer stated.

Noah punched fingers into his commbadge, "Cuh-computer Control to Bridge. We have an emergency situation down here. Did we just receive any kind of subspace signal? Or a sensor ping?" He pushed the comm key on his console, "Computer Control to Engineering. I've got a cascade denial-reboot basilisk trying to route through our recursive kappa protocol network. I think it came in from the dorsal sensor array but I'm having a hard time locking it down. It's using a rotational quark-based subroutine."

Ensign Gora bim Gral stood bowlegged at his tactical station, his lips perched between his tusks as he stared down at the display screen. The lights from it illuminated the underside of his bewhiskered chin. The bridge was particularly quiet, and these were the shifts the Tellarite salivated for. If there was one thing he liked more than a good steamy mud bath it was an uneventful shift. He had not joined Starfleet for the excitement, the glamor, the trekking boldly—no, he was a simple humanoid, a humanoid of convenience. He liked his needs being met and the routine of it all. His best moments were those where he was lulled by the hum of the ship’s engines.

The Ensign scoffed at the communiqué from the Computer Systems Specialist, his silence diced like a Targ to feed a horde of hungry Klingons. He placed his hand over his plump gut as if to brace himself for a response. He hoped that this supposed emergency would not lead to events of excitement. Gral loathed the thought. “This is Ensign Gral, Tactical on the bridge. State the nature of your perceived emergency. And to follow your inquiry. No. No—not that we know of. I can acknowledge your detected signal, however. While there has been no direct communication, we did—moments ago receive a ping. I can confirm that ping originated from a Klingon listening post. Nothing to get worked up about...”

Noah's eyes scanned the holographic before him, ambers shifting to orange with an unexpectedly aggressive timetable. "Computer, isolate Iota and Lambda interface to Kappa Recursives. Set containment firewall protocols to Iota 500 and Lambda-1." He squinted, "Sir," he addressed the Ensign, "Someone or something has a denial-reboot basilisk saturating in the Kappa access protocols that control sensors, communications, and holographic projection. I'm trying to narrow down its intended target." He sniffed, "But our computer system is under attack. From someone."

Lieutenant Chaali had rounded the railing from the Ops position and come up beside the Tellarite. "What's going on?" She asked the Ensign, her hairless brows knitting with a wrinkle at her bifurcating ridge..

Gral turned around to face the young Bolian, “Computer Systems is claiming our computer is under attack. I am running a diagnostic now; but, if true it would have to be pretty evasive, our preliminary security system didn’t flag it. Sensors, communications, holographic systems may be compromised. I would suggest a Yellow alert. We received a seemingly routine ping from a Klingon listening post some ten to fifteen minutes ago. I wonder if the two are connected?” The Tellarite sighed as he turned back to his console, things had not turned out how he had hoped. If that Computer Systems Specialist was wrong, there would be hell to pay.

"Why would the Klingons attack our systems?" Chaali wondered as Gral's console flickered with a change in the diagnostic. Several LCARS keys indicated communications, sensor and holodeck access on a civilian level were blinking and reporting denial of connection and access, and a rerouting of information around them. Chaali concurred and looked up while she rounded back to her own console. She touched the intercom key, "This is the Bridge. Go to Yellow Alert. Captain Kodak to the Bridge please."

With a heightened whine, the klaxons began to glow yellow while every console beveled in golden yellow, an icon flicking the ship's status in the corner of every display. "Gral," Chaali said, "Let's review the Klingon Listening Post's sensor ping. But you're right- how does one passive ping get a foothold?"

"I wish I knew." The Tellarite said soberly. "My guess is the ping must have somehow circumvented our computer's security systems. The Klingon signal may have been used to send or rather piggyback some packet of something. This something then became embedded into our systems. How it got there might be less important than what is it attempting to do. What purpose?"

"Report," came a command from the right side of the Bridge. Captain Kodak had stepped out of the turbolift, still awake and thus quite responsive to Chaali's summons. Since he'd not gone to bed yet, there'd been no fumbling for a uniform or any groggy steps out of bed. Only one deck down, it'd taken only moments to ascend himself to the command center of the ship. Moving towards Chaali and Gral, he nodded as the pair filled him in.

The Bolian turned supplely, "Our computer system may be under attack." She gestured at the readings, "Balsam is on the Comm."

"Mr. Balsam," the Captain spoke over the open comm line, "I'm guessing you've already tried isolating the affected systems. Is it possible to simply shut them down and purge whatever it is from the core?"

There was an awkwardly long pause that seemed to have some deep breathing, "Um... uhh... yuh... yessir. Yes. Um. Yessir. I-I-I am isolating the file inside Kappa Recursive 331-343. Wuh-wuh-whatever it is, it's holographic... in-in nature. It tried for the Index uh, um... interface. But I-I... I don't recognize the linguacode."

"Gently," Chaali was smiling earlobe to earlobe, her gentle hand resting on Kodak's arm, "Otherwise he's gonna have a nosebleed... I might as well call Doctor T'Nai, just in case," she said softly between them, a chortle issuing from her, "Think about it. You were a Cadet once."

With the channel momentarily muted for Chaali's commentary, the Chameloid nodded. "You're right. Best to praise high, pressure low, and go slow." Smiling at Chaali, Kodak indicated she should unmute the comm channel. Once she did, he said, "You're doing great, cadet. Just focus on isolating it for now so it can't do any more harm. Thanks for being so on top of things down there."

"Yeh-yes, Sir," Noah replied over the Comm as Chaali gave him a very Human OK symbol- thumb and pointer together.

Down in Engineering, Ensign Parsons was working the night shift again. Giorgiou had said the assignment was because he trusted the young engineer; he was giving him an opportunity to flex his muscles and gain some positive visibility with the Captain and other senior officers. Parsons saw the logic of that but, at 0200 hours, would have gladly traded "positive visibility" for some peaceful sleep in his quarters. He was drowsy and contemplated handing the watch off to someone else but knew such would not earn him any points with the new acting Chief.

Yellow alert lights flashing dispelled such tiredness in an instant, however. "Bridge, this is Engineering," he called up with a slap of his combadge. "I've just received the report of what's going on," he said, eyes roving back and forth across Balsam and Gar's commentary on the events unfolding. "I'm taking a look at this myself right now. Please stand by." Calling up the affected subroutines, Sheldon's eyes reflected the glowing wireframe model of the Sojo's computer network diagram. He studied the affected areas carefully, eyes tracing the curved rays.

As he did, the most curious sensation passed over him. Rather than feeling alarmed or -- as was the case more often than not -- exceptionally anxious, a strange calm had settled in instead. "Huh," Parsons said, lost in the wireframe computer model, completely unaware that he should be feeling much more concerned than he was. "Bridge, this is Parsons again. This is definitely a problem but I don't know that this is any kind of malicious attack. The ping may have just sent us some errant data that the computer can't make heads or tails of. On top of purging it from the system, I might suggest turning off automatic ping handshakes while we're in Klingon space?"

Chaali nodded, "Balsam's got it cornered for now... whatever it is. We just passed Ch'Graat-Lor Ichvaj Listening Post. I'm not sure how the Klingons will welcome a ship in their space that doesn't self-identify. That is the Captain's call."

And a call it was to make, for sure. "I'd feel more comfortable if we weren't bucking the Klingons' rules," Kodak preambled. "They were gracious -- in their own way -- in giving us permission to come study these ruins. Let's leave the auto-ping system turned on for now. But if this happens again," he noted, "we'll turn it off immediately and do things the old fashioned way." To those who were listening, he clarified with, "Making courtesy calls as we pass by, of course."

"Understood, Captain," came Parson's reply over the comm. "Someone needs to get that Noah kid a plate of cheese sticks. Seriously, who's up at 2am on the lookout for this stuff? I'm impressed."

"Um...Mr. Parsons? Your channel is still active," Kodak smirked, his eyes thoroughly colored with bemusement.

"Oh my gosh, so it is! So sorry. Engineering out," the Ensign replied, clicking off this time.

Chaali raised a brow, "A cheese... stick? Like from a tree, or like a breadstick?"

"It's...well, it's hard to explain," Kodak chuckled softly. "Think of a finger-width and length of cheese that's tossed and fried in oil until golden brown. Then you dip them in a tomato based sauce. They're actually quite good...if you like hot, gooey cheese encased in crunchy breading. May have had some for dinner the other night," his smirk turned into a wide smile.

Chaali's hairless brows rose, her mouth bowing into a soundless, "Ah," of understanding.

"Alright, the kid's got it cordoned off for now. Gral, Chaali...do you think we should keep the yellow alert going?" Kodak could have used his own judgment and simply given an order but he wanted to hear what his officers had to say on the matter first: give them an opportunity to voice their thoughts ahead of any decision making taking place.

"Seems like the worst is behind us for now. I'll be curious to see what this... thing... is, if we can see it safely." Chaali said. She looked at the Tellarite.

Regardless if the yellow alert signal was terminated or not, Gral would certainly remain at yellow alert. This was all too much excitement, and as far as he was concerned, his night had already been ruined. "If I can be candid Captain, this incident has left a bad taste in my mouth. While the yellow alert can certainly end, I have a bad feeling that whatever this was...we haven't seen the last of it. I wouldn't suggest we act on my gut, or cater to my worries; but, I'd certainly feel a lot better if we assign a team to work with the computer specialist and do a comprehensive investigation. The last thing we need is the holo system to start playing with us or our scanners to be unreliable in Klingon space..." Gral was not necessarily the suspicious type - no, that led to work; but, he had a feeling that he just couldn't shake. Gral wasn't content to just lay this one to bed.

"Completely agreed with both of you," Kodak nodded slowly. "Alright then. Computer," he formally intoned, "cancel Red Alert. Chaali, I'd like you to coordinate with Mr. Balsam and Chief Engineer Giorgiou. He'll be beaming down to the planet with us tomorrow but I'm sure he can assign someone else to help as needed. Mr. Gral," the Chameloid turned to the gruff Tactical officer, "keep those instincts of yours sharp. Condition Green doesn't mean everything is perfectly fine. If you notice anything out of the ordinary with our systems, I want to know about it."

Seeing nods of response come from both officers, the Captain offered them both a wan smile. "Who says nothing exciting ever happens in the dead of night? Certainly not me," he rasped softly. "I'm going to try to get some sleep before tomorrow's excitement. Thank you for being so vigilant." With a wave of his hand, Kodak was off, striding across the Bridge and back into the turbolift. Excitement indeed, he thought to himself as the doors sealed before him.


=/\= A joint post by... =/\=

Midshipman Noah Balsam
Computer Specialist
USS Sojourner

and

Lieutenant JG Chaali
Acting Chief Operations Officer
USS Sojourner

and

Ensign Gora bim Gral
Tactical Officer
USS Sojourner

and

Captain Björn Kodak
Commanding Officer
USS Sojourner

and

Ensign Sheldon Parsons
Engineering Officer
USS Sojourner