Road Trip (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on 09 May 2018 @ 1:12pm by Lieutenant Amaranai Franklin & Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant & Lieutenant JG Manuel Lucero & Commander Allyndra illm Warraquim & Commander Marisa Wyatt
Edited on on 21 Aug 2023 @ 2:03pm

3,908 words; about a 20 minute read

Mission: Episode 16 - A Far Sun
Location: USS Schofield, Pleione Main City
Timeline: MD 01, 1910 hrs

[ON]

As a tactical officer, Amaranai made certain to study the many different resources that had been offered by the scans and started to consider what she was going to need in terms of taking care of the rest of the team. Regardless of the current technology of the society, Amaranai would have to have a phaser, set for stun, obviously, but she had to make sure the Away Team would return in one piece.

Behind Amaranai, wide double-doors slid apart automatically, allowing for passage from the corridor. Striding towards the doorway were two members of said away team, who had come through by way of Sickbay. Rather than his teal-highlighted uniform, Lake ir-Llantrisant was clad in a gray suit with high-waisted trousers and a mid-thigh length jacket. He carried a black leather briefcase, in which his medical kit was disguised. Lake adjusted the way a matching fedora sat on his head, and the abrupt movements suggested a sense of frustration at how it fit. Pushing the fedora back on his head, Lake paused in the doorway. After some rushed reconstructive surgery, the Romulan's forehead was much smoother and his ears far more rounded. His own body didn't feel right.

"Do you think it looks more appropriate like this," Lake asked, with the fedora pulled well down his forehead, and then he popped it back and said, "or like this?"

Amaranai looked to the man that had entered. Though she knew it would be Lieutenant ir-Llantrisant, it did not look like him, which, she supposed, was a good thing. The modifications were well done, though, it appeared that he was still getting used to it. When he asked his question, Amaranai smiled.

"I think it looks better the second way," she said. "People might get annoyed that they can't see your face too well."

Amaranai pulled at her dress. She had not been used to wearing dresses and when she did, they were nothing like the ones that had been worn during the time period that was evidenced on the surface. The dark blue dress was longer than she preferred - past the knees - but she supposed the people of that era were just beginning to free their modesty. Her only problem with her dress was that she had no place for her phaser, instead choosing to wrap it around her thigh over carrying a handbag.

Stepping closer to the newly minted human, Amaranai handed him a small phaser.

"You're lucky to have pockets," she said to Lake. "At least you'll have quicker access to this than I will."

Lake's hand was still on his head, fiddling with his fedora to fix it in place. Given Amarani's proffering of the type-1 phaser, Lake let his fedora be and he accepted the advanced weapon. As he dropped the phaser into a pocket, Lake asked, "How might we impact such a primitive society by even choosing to draw phasers in a hurry?"

"Too much," Marisa said, walking through the door. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt with a kick that allowed her some movement and a pair of black pumps. The sapphire-blue top was form fitting. They didn't allow her to hide much. She wore a specially designed pair of earrings that could act as both a simple tricorder and a communicator so she would blend in more. "Unfortunately, anything we do that is contrary to what they consider normal behavior will draw attention. A phaser or tricorder will definitely get us taken in for questioning."

Pivoting his head in Marisa's direction, Lake expressed concern with a furrow of his now-smooth brow and a brief pursing of his lips. "Tell me more about what normal means," Lake said, his curiosity genuine. The briefest of briefing information he'd pursued hadn't provided him enough data to even approximate a sociological profile. He asked, "What will get people, namely us, restrained and questioned?"

Amaranai listened to Marisa and nodded in agreement and then looked at Lake when he asked his own questions.

"Basically," she started. "If you think you're doing wrong, then you are."

Marisa smiled. "Each society defines normal differently. Basically, don't stand out, don't draw attention to yourself, and don't disagree with the locals--unless those locals are drawing unwelcome attention to themselves."

"Well, how's this?" Manuel's voice echoed a second before he stepped briskly into the transport room wearing black leather oxfords, a charcoal gray sports coat under a long black overcoat, with a white shirt and a silk black tie. His blond hair was smoothly combed to the right with a fine straight-line of scalp showing on the opposite side of his head. He had a simple silver timepiece on his right wrist held by brass clasps on a dark leather band, to pull the whole thing together. His deep blue eyes seemed to shine a bit brighter from the dark palette of his accoutrements, but if you stared into them long enough, you could tell from the sheer excitement that the man was far from familiar with his environment.

"Or, did I overdo it?" He said turning slowly so that everyone could see the full get-up.

"Hard to say," Marisa said. "It will depend on how the men are dressed when we beam down."

Holding his leather briefcase ahead of him, Lake trod the steps up the transporter platform. As he found his way to a circular transporter pad at the rear, Lake tartly remarked, "Somewhere down there... we have a new Borg Collective in the making, evidently."

"I hope not," Marisa said, grinning. "I'm more concerned with their version of McCarthyism. I'm no Judy Holliday." She carefully took her place next to Lake.

"I think I should've done a bit more research..." Manuel took a long step onto the transporter pad closest to him.


1930 hours

As the away team materialized in a back alleyway they were greeted with the distinct smell of gasoline fumes, noise from internal combustion vehicles, the sound of horns honking and the hustle and bustle of a city. Down the alley way toward the street people could be seen walking along.

As the annular confinement beam released its grip on Lake ir-Llantrisant, it took all of Lake's self-control not to palm a tricorder. Scanning the environment was what one did on an away team --that was the social norm-- but Lake was determined to pretend normalcy. Normal. He lasted all of seven seconds. As the aroma from the street reached him, Lake scrunched up his face in disgust. Between the orchards on Romulus, the farms on Tracken II, and self-cleaning Starfleet facilities, Lake had never smelled the like. "Oh nouhha," he cursed, lowering his voice as he did so. "What died?"

Amaranai stood and waited for the transport to finish. When she had fully materialized in the alleyway, she had to take a moment for her eyes to adjust to the natural light as well as the sudden noise of the world. The noise was the problem and though Lake mentioned the smell, it wasn't all that bad.

"Sorry," she said. "I couldn't really hear you. It's a bit noisy."

"Wow," Marisa said, looking around eagerly. She'd only seen holodeck recreations of this ear. The reality was not quite the same. That, or this planet had their own version of the 1950s. She tugged on her earring to activate the tricorder and record as much as she could for later. "Where to begin? Do we go down the alley to the street and try to blend in?"

San had been drinking, a lot. At first it was just to take the reality of being laid off, a failed career, failed marriage and basically a set of circumstances that seemed to cause everything to go down the toilet. Now though with the sun acting up and everyone trying to pretend it was going to be alright, it was even more a necessity to get through the day and night. Disheveled he stumbled down the ally way from his comfortable box behind a dumpster. He saw a group of people standing there. They were dressed awfully fine if a bit odd for daytime but that did not matter. The cut of their clothing screamed they had money.

"Shaayyy gents..." he addressed the guys with only a bit of touch to his stained and beat up hat to the ladies. "Could you all help a boy down on his luck?"

Marisa raised an eyebrow and looked at the two men. "Do you have some spare change?"

Manuel put a fist to his mouth and let out a suggestive cough with a swift head nod in Lake's direction.

In his quest to approximate Human normalcy, Lake thought back to his oldest and crustiest professors at Starfleet Academy. They had always been saying strange anachronisms that most Cadets had accepted as normal, despite sounding like gibberish to Lake's Romulan ears. "I'm sorry," Lake said to San, looking him directly in the eyes. There was an overtone of compassion in his voice, but an undercurrent of matter-of-fact. "Money doesn't grow on trees," he affirmed.

Tilting his head towards Marisa, Lake lowered his voice to mutter, "Especially when we're uncertain of the exact dimensions and mineral composition of the currency."

Marisa raised an eyebrow at Lake and gave him a half nod.

"Ah come on pal, just a couple of draks. You all look like stepped off a movie set with them duds on. Gotta have a few you can spare," San begged but was getting a little belligerent as well.

It seemed to Amaranai that this gentleman might cause some trouble for the Away Team if they weren't careful, so she stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, friend," she said as gently as possible. "You've misunderstood. We've just arrived in town using the last of our money."

She patted the man on the back and turned him toward the street.

"If we're not careful, we'll have to resort to begging as well." She paused as she pushed him further. "Good luck to you and to us as well."

Amaranai turned back to the others, hoping the man would get the hint.

Marisa fumbled around in her clutch. She didn't have much money, but she had replicated a few coins. "My friends are correct. We thought if we dressed up we'd have better luck once we got here. I can give you this. It might be enough for a cup of coffee, but that's all, I'm afraid." She gave him what amounted to a nickel.

San looked at the coin. It looked right but did not feel quite right. Well it was better than his current state and he touched his well-worn hat. "Thanks, well protectors bless. Though..." he looked up shading his eyes. "Not that it matters, everyone saying on the tele that star is acting up and all but not to worry. I don't believe them, few do. They wouldn't keep having the sirens go off. Ladies, gents," he said and then sauntered off toward the street.

"That was a close one," Amaranai said under her breath to the others." She paused as the man left their vicinity. "Did you hear what he said, though?" she continued. "About the star acting up but not to worry? That means they at least know something's going on."

The security officer looked to Marisa.

"What's our next step?"

"Find out more about the sirens and the protectors," Marisa said. "I agree with you. There's more going on here than we initially thought."

Although Lake had been listening to the discussion between the away team, he kept his eyes on San. He watched as San moved towards the sound of passing people and internal-combustion-engines driving by. Only once San was out of sight did Lake ask, "Isn't that always the way?"

Marisa chuckled. "I believe it's a rule somewhere." She nodded in the direction that San had gone. "I think we should follow suit and go out to the street. From there we can better decide which way to go to get the lay of the land."

Manuel had taken a step closer to Marisa and kept his voice low while tilting his head so that she could better hear. "Isn't it peculiar that the inhabitants have the tech to detect the small aberration in stellar behavior that would preempt a flare? I'm curious to see what these guys are working with."

Marisa, who had the hearing of her Vulcan ancestors, had no trouble hearing what he said. "They don't know. It's their Protectors we need to find out about."

"Ah, you're right. I didn't even think of how well integrated these Protectors must be. Fascinating... Definitely far beyond any theology that I've ever seen across a population."


2000 hours

As the Schofield away team reached another intersection at the end of a block of squat towers, Lake ir-Llantrisant took the opportunity to crane his neck around and observe his surroundings. While they were walking along the paving slabs, he made an effort to portray his body language as if he was traveling with a purpose. (Above all else, he didn't want to look like a tourist.) However, he noticed the locals stopped to observe their surroundings before crossing the roadway used by mechanical vehicles, and Lake leaned right into that opportunity. More than anything else, his eyes were drawn to the massive pyramid structure at city-centre. It looked out of place, cobbled together in a pre-industrial fashion, and obscenely towering over all of the other buildings in the city. But he couldn't allow himself to look at it for too long, because that's not something the locals did.

A small chirp emitted from one of the concealed communicators.

=^=Away team,=^= she called, =^=Taking the ship into high orbit so we can keep a watch on the flares. We will be out of transporter range in two more hours’ time.=^=

"Acknowledged," Sandoval said, adjusting her earring.

She turned to the others. "Schofield will be out of touch for two hours." She hoped it was innocuous enough to not cause attention.

Lake had lifted his briefcase, slightly, to hold it closer to a local, who was wearing a suit that looked more lived-in than the one Lake was wearing. Lake had left his medical tricorder running inside the briefcase, and hoped to collect more data about the locals biology as they wandered around. After the other man walked away, Lake remarked to Marissa, "Two hours can be a long time," with a hint of dread.

"Yes. A very long time," Marisa said. "Perhaps we should head out of town and see what we can find?" she suggested. She wasn't exactly sure what the best course of action would be. She was torn between taking the time to learn more about these people and their culture and finding out what lay beyond the city.

"I think we should get in the middle of things and see just exactly how these people live," Manuel made a sweeping indication at the town around them. "A look into the daily lives and routines of the populace will be crucial to gathering information necessary to... Well... Gathering information. 'When in Rome', that sort of thing. We'll be able to ascertain fairly quickly where they get their news, what the sociopolitical climate entails, or who runs what and where."

"We need to be subtle," Marisa said. "If we're not careful, we'll stand out like a horta in a beauty contest."

Tilting his head in Manuel's direction, Lake suggested, "We may stand out more in a region less populated than this one. We can't be the only hortas in an urban centre."

Manuel nodded and started to further the discussion when, suddenly, sirens began to blare from rooftops all across the city. They drowned out every other noise in their volume. The rest of the people looked up briefly and then begin to head in purposeful directions toward various buildings. Even the people in the vehicles turned them off, got out and begin to hurry toward select buildings. As one man walked by he spared the group a glance. "Best get to a shelter," he said and hurried off.

"Come on," Marisa said, following the nearest group.

Amaranai followed the lieutenant and fell into line with the crowd as they rushed toward someplace that would shelter the people from, what Amaranai had to assume, was the solar flare that the Schofield had just mentioned.

People were jostling as they streamed into the buildings with others waving them on and directing with helmets and uniforms on. "Hurry, hurry, this way everyone, flare warning." People bumped each other in the hurry to get to the deep basement of the building and above a heavy metal doorway was marked "Civil Defense Shelter". It did not help with all the movement that the bricks were rough.

Though Amaranai was fit and wore heels on very rare occasions, there was something about the amount of people that were around and the heels she was wearing different than the ones she had worn previously. Because of this, as Amaranai reached the doorway, she was bumped and lost her footing, sending her into the metal. Having exposed arms made her a fresh target for stray metal and her arm was cut. However, the locals didn't seem to care and continued pushing past her in order to get into shelter before it was too late.

"Hey," she said to anyone. "A little help?"

Marisa pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around Amaranai's arm to stop the bleeding and helped her hurry into the shelter. "We can't be out when the flare hits." Secretly she was relieved it was Ameranai that was bleeding and not her. She didn't think they locals would react well to green blood.

Amaranai smiled and nodded at Marisa as she bandaged her. She realized that chivalry in this society must not exist - or, at least the people were more worried about the flare than other people. The lieutenant started moving down the stairs again, hoping they would get to the bottom eventually.

A man pushed forward with a dark leather bag. "Here let me take a look at that miss. Doctor Lensher," he introduced himself. "From the looks you are out of town and I do apologize people are running scared ever since the star started getting crazy. They say it is a sign of the end times, that the protectors are embattled." He had opened his bag and gotten out gaze and bandage and put something on that he said was a disinfectant and wrapped the wrist. "There we go, should be good."

Amaranai watched as the man had stopped and looked at her. He noted that she wasn't from town and Amaranai nodded casually. She listened as he mentioned the star and the end times. All the while, he checked her wrist and bandaged it. When he was finished, Amaranai thanked him and smiled.

"Doctor," she called to him. "You've no need to apologize for people wanting to be safe. A little careless and heartless when someone is injured, but understandable." She paused a moment. "What is your opinion of what's happening?

"My opinion miss?" He looked at her. "I do not believe in fairy tales about some sort of mythical beings that kept us safe. Unfortunately I think there is science and logic." He looked around and then almost whispered, "and the later tells me that we are probably doomed if the star keeps acting up. Best keep that between us though, the authorities would arrest us on the spot. They are trying to keep the public assured that all is going to be well. I can't blame them though."

Marisa moved back when the doctor showed up to observe. She wanted to know about the Protectors and what they had to do with the solar flares. Could they be an advanced race? Or some sort of artifact? Could be anything, actually, but she couldn't come right out and ask. So, she eavesdropped and watched. The doctor's comment was most telling. She wished they could talk to him. Amaranai's accident was turning out to e a blessing.

Manuel pushed through the rushing crowd to where Marisa was standing behind Amarani and the indigenous Doctor. He seemed focused on preventing the group from being trampled while keeping a close eye on the soldiers who were directing the flow of traffic into the shelter whilst the Doctor carried on.

Marisa glanced at Manuel and back to Amaranai, then looked for Lake. Right now, it was vital to keep everyone together and not draw attention to themselves. From where she was standing, Lake was nowhere to be seen.

Doctor Lensher moved to check on a few others in the shelter. People for the most part were quite waiting patiently with just a bit of murmur of conversation. The lights blinked, went out plunging the place into darkness for a few moments. That elicited a few cries of distress but guardsmen flicked on battery lights and begin to pass more from a storage area.

The room sat in semi-darkness it seemed like forever but was probably only about an hour or so. It was warm and stuff by the time the main lights came back on and then sirens wailed again.

"All Clear! Everyone, return you lanterns and go about your business!" One of the guardsmen shouted. The crowd began to shift toward the exit. Doctor Lensher came by once again and said, "If you wish I could show you around a little"

Amaranai was certain that having the doctor show them around the city would be a good idea, but she wasn't the one in charge. She turned to look at Marisa, hoping for her to answer.

"Could you please? We're new to town," Marisa said, smiling at the Doctor.

He touched his hat and indicated with his free hand for them to head back up. Already the vehicles were starting and moving accompanied by honking of horns. The hustle and bustle of a city was back as though little had happened.

Waiting for them, just outside the entrance, was Lake ir-Llantrisant. Wanting to avoid anything resembling violence, he hadn't been able to force his way through the crowd of people that had come between him and the away team. After a stressful hour of sitting on his own in the dark, Lake had darted his way out of the shelter among the very first to leave, and lurked at the entrance to catch up with his shipmates. Quickly learning of their intent to go touring with their new friend, Lake asked, "Where shall we go?"

"Well I suppose you are here like many to see the old part of town and the temple to the protectors. It is what draws most. This way then," the doctor said and again waited for the ladies to start.

"We are," Marisa said. "We've been looking forward to it for quite some time."

“This way then,” Lensher indicated.

Continued...

[OFF]

--

Doctor Lensher and Interrogator
Pleione Citizens
[NPC Warraquim]

Lieutenant Amaranai Franklin
Assistant Chief Security / Tactical
USS Schofield

Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant
Chief Counselor
USS Schofield

Lieutenant (j.g.) Manuel Robert Lucero, V
Asst. Chief Science Officer
USS Schofield

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