Science lab and office

[FMar J Weslynes]

This was started at the request of an officer on the ship. All science posting except for logs will be entered her.

[Lewis Reid]

Lew had taken Clydes weapon apart. He'd begun his examination and so far it was not what he hoped it owuld be. He wished he had Inid's training or at least the book. For all his bravado, she was after all a trained marine. She could have stripped the weapon blind folded and told him what was wrong with it by touch. He didn't have that training so he used what he did have. He would analyze each compenent down to the micro circuit in hopes of finding his answers.

[Lieutenant Collins]

Marshal Collins stood alone in the empty Biochemistry lab for what felt like an eternity, staring at the blank terminal before him. For once he was not there to experiment or study some unknown substance. Instead his task that night was much more personal in nature, and involved much more risk than handling hazardous materials.

He took a deep breath and let it out. Idly he wondered why he chose to make the call in the lab. The science officer rationalized it was because he knew it would be deserted and therefore he would not be bothered, but part of him knew there was something more to it. He was comfortable in that room, more than anywhere else on the ship, even in his own quarters, and especially more than in the very large and sparse executive officer's office, which by rights was now his to use. He had yet to step foot in it, and he suspected that after he was done that night, he never would.

Finally bracing himself he put on his biggest smile and flipped on the communications terminal. He waited while the line connected and then routed him through to the appropriate office.

"Lieutenant Commander Heather Malloy, Starfleet Xenoarchaeological Studies" said the attractive auburn-haired woman on the other end of the line, "how can I help you, Lieutenant?"

You can let me buy you a drink sometime when I am back in San Fransisco. He gave her a little wink and was rewarded with a smile from the woman on the other line.

"I may hold you to that," she said, "but what can I do for you today?"

I am calling on behalf of my CO, Collins replied smoothly. A few weeks back Starfleet Command recovered a piece of equipment from a historical site at the Capitol Building Museum in Washington DC, North America. The artifact was labeled Z367F-991. I was told it was transferred to this division for further studying and testing. We are going to need all the data you were able to pull off the artifact.

The woman's eyes unfocused on Collins as she looked past him to the data on her terminal. "That item is labeled as classified, Lieutenant."

Please call me Marshal, he said and favored her with his best grin, and I have command clearance. I am the executive officer of the USS Aryes, NCC 81204, Clearance Code Delta-884.

"Then you can call me Heather," she said.

So you're saying I can call you sometime?

She giggled a little as she entered in his clearance code. Her expression changed to a slight frown at what appeared on her screen. "I am sorry, Marshal, but the artifact is registered as a command clearance of rank CO or above. I cannot allow you access to our data files."

Marshal fought to keep his face even. He had been afraid of that, but thankfully he had planned for it as well. Aw shucks, said Collins with a feigned look of disappointment, if only I had command authorization from my CO, oh wait I do. He gave her another wink and was rewarded with another smile.

Transferring now, said Collins as he punched in a few keys and transferred the forged command authorization that he had created. It was a nearly perfect replica right down to the digital signature of Commander Helen Grace. Silently he prayed that he had not left any flaws in the coding.

"Received," said Heather on the other end and she processed the request through the Starfleet system. "Request accepted," she said with a smile a moment later. "I am beginning the data transfer to you now."

Excellent, said Collins with an inward sigh of relief., Now let's talk about important matters, Heather. Bajoran Gin or Andorian Ale?

"I've always preferred a good stout," she said.

A girl after my own heart. Now you will definitely have to let me buy you one.

"For that request you do not need a command clearance." This time she winked, and it was Collins turn to smile.

The screen in front of her indicated a tone. "Transfer complete," she said. "I also included my personal comm-channel frequency. Make sure to use it the next time you are on Earth."

You can bet on it, said Collins. The screen cut out and the science officer was again left staring at a blank screen... ...assuming that I'm not court martialed or worse by then.

Marshal Collins took a moment to compose himself before collecting the received data. He skimmed through it briefly and almost yelled for joy. The archaeological information contained almost everything he could hope for. Shran had left them enough biometric and trans-dimensional data in his abandoned comm-badge for him to use.

Suddenly, whatever risks he had just taken seemed long forgotten. The consequences were left to the uncertainty of the future, but with the excitement of the new data he was certain about one thing, Shran could be found.