Session 3 12

The party is reunited with Hrrin!
Michael Pearson: "Hrrin!"
Heggy: "Hrrin!"
Doctor Morello: "Hrrin?"
Wayne: "Do you know her?"
Hrrin: "Oh, we go way back."
Ingenue: "Yes. She is Hrrin."
Abraham: "Accept no substitutes."
Zinda Tegram: "You knew about this?"
Ingenue: "There are potentially substitute Hrrin?"
Hrrin: "This-?" Hrrin takes in the lab with a sweep of the arm.
Abraham: "It's possible."
Hrrin: "You'll have to be more specific, Tegram."
Hrrin grins.
Zinda Tegram: "Dammit, the whole hidden city? Wormhole experimentation? Humanoid combat frames?!"
Doctor Morello: "Drugged stim coffee…."
Michael Pearson: "Eh, stims always work weird across species boundaries…"
Heggy: "SowherehaveyoubeenHrrin,Ididn'tevenseeyouleave!ButthenIsupposeIhaven'tevenseenyousinceArmstrong."
Doctor Morello gestures at Heggy as if to say "Do you see what I mean?"
Hrrin lets Heggy ramble on, then looks aside, guilty. "A little personal research and networking let to one thread, and one thread led to another, and then the whole sweater's unraveling…"
Abraham: "I love it when that happens. Or hate it. I suppose it depends on how much I liked the sweater."
Hrrin: "Considering the sweater is a planet full of my colleagues, and an opportunity to see the sort of thing I thought would never get out of the autocad stage live and stomping down the streets?"
Hrrin: "I think I'm quite okay with this nanofibre sweater in a heap of yarn at my feet."
Abraham: "Yeah. That's one of those itchy ugly sweaters you least favorite aunt gives you for Christmas."
Hrrin: "Cabling makes terrible bulletproofing."
Abraham: "It was quite popular during the late twentieth/early twenty-first century for bulletproofing on earth actually."
Michael Pearson: "What, steel cable?"
Abraham: "Yes. I think it was called 'Clevar'. They apparently thought rather highly of it."
Zinda Tegram: "Kevlar. We used it occasionally in boarding ops when there were…supply issues."
Hrrin: "That's the stuff. Thank you."
Wayne: "Ironically, we had roughly the same thing under the same name at one point, though the circumstances of naming were different."
Hrrin: "Parallel evolution. Not just for biologists, neh?"
Wayne nods. "A series of technological improvements allowed one faction to vie for dominance. I believe the name for that period translates as 'the Kevlar Revolution'. The bid was unsuccessful, but due to political maneuvering, any charges brought against the leaders did not stick."
Wayne looks at the party. "I understand there is some irony to this, from your perspective?"
Heggy: "Idunnoaboutthat,weneverreallyusedbodyarmor."
Zinda Tegram: "Anyways, onto what we're here for."
Zinda Tegram: "I understand that the server farm is nearby?"
Wayne: "Ah, yes, it's right…" He pauses, sniffing the air.
Hrrin snerks. "Kevlar. Didn't stick."
[OOC] WC GM: Alertness checks, or other applicable skill, for anyone likewise smelling.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: 0 0 - + (Base: 4 Total: 4) (Alertness)
The other kilrathi seem to be filtering out in a certain direction.
Doctor Morello rolled up 4dF: 0 - 0 - (Base: 3 Total: 1) (Alertness)
Abraham shrugs and samples the local atmosphere.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Filtering out? Like, leaving?
Abraham rolled up 4dF: + 0 0 + (Base: 4 Total: 6) (Alertness)
[OOC] WC GM: Yes
Zinda Tegram: "Something wrong happen over there?"
Michael Pearson: "They don't look paniced."
Zinda has never smelled this scent before, but it triggers something faint in her hindbrain; she knows this is food of some sort. Abraham knows BBQ when he smells it, and can identify a couple distinctly Kilrathi spices.
Doctor Morello: "Hm?"
Wayne: "Ah, it's that time. Would you care to join us for lunch first?"
Heggy is looking distinctly twitchy, but she's still stimmed up.
Doctor Morello: "Absolutely!"
Abraham: "Boralith. Huh. I haven't had that in years."
Zinda Tegram: "Is that what that smell is?"
Zinda Tegram: "Please understand we're on the job. We'll be happy to join you after our inspection."
Abraham: "Well, that's one thing in that smell. It's a spice the Kilrahi love."
Doctor Morello: "I don't know WHAT it is, but it smells amazing."
Zinda Tegram glares at the rest of the team.
Abraham: "I think it tastes like nutmeg personally."
Hrrin: "With a bit of allspice, perhaps."
Hrrin: "Not even a working lunch, Zinda?"
Wayne begins walking in the direction the other kilrathi are going.
Zinda Tegram: "The objective is time sensitive. There will be plenty of…Hey! HEY!"
Doctor Morello follows Wayne
Zinda Tegram: "Give us some directions at least!"
Michael Pearson has schooled his expression. He will not grin at Zinda's discomfort.
Zinda Tegram eye twitches.
Wayne waves a hand over his shoulder without looking back. "Afterward."
Zinda Tegram narrows her eyes. "Something's wrong here."
Abraham is not so suave as Michael and is grinning openly.
Zinda Tegram exhales and follows, cautiously.
Zinda Tegram rolled up 4dF: + - 0 + (Base: 4 Total: 5) (Alertness again, people are acting strangely.)
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Maybe they're just hungry, but…
A bit of analysis shows the "strange" is mostly "hungry" - but something is up. A community ritual, perhaps?
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Dropping everything to go eat is a bit odd. Meh.
Comparisons could be made to churchgoers, summoned to service.
[OOC] WC GM: There wasn't much they were dropping.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Ah, OK.
[OOC] Abraham: Depends on how long it's been since your last meal.
Hrrin is already on her way out. "If you're not joining in, I'll catch up later?"
[OOC] WC GM: Still, they do seem a bit more intense than most diners Zinda's seen.
Zinda Tegram: "Sheez, don't get between cats and their food, huh…?"
Abraham: "Not if you want to keep all your fingers, no."
Abraham follows the herd.
Michael Pearson follows his commander.
Through the door, down a few corridors, and…it can only be described as a feasting hall. Take a cavernous room. Put a park picnic bench in one corner, then extend it…and extend and extend, curving around when it reaches the end, forming aisles but one long, unbroken table. Bridges allow access over it, and above - ah, that is the source of the scent. Great pits with roaring fires, meat of various kinds searing and roasting, with sauce preparation substations scattered around.
The chefs up there seem one part performers to three parts industrial chefs, as many kilrathi filter in and sit down, here and there, chatting with one another while watching the food preparation.
Smoke wafts up, obscuring the ceiling - fortunately, away from the audience and the chefs. The meat is piped in via tubes as wide as a kilrathi or human adult; it starts off in blocks, then carved and shaped and seasoned before being loaded into the fire. In another bit of parallel evolution - but for the same optical reason - the chefs wear primarily white.
The cuts of meat are not easy to identify, but when brought on trays to the various parties, some cuts look similar to fish, chicken, lamb, or venison; pork and beef analogues are also present but less common.
Wayne leads the way to an unoccupied section of table and sits down, gesturing for the party to join him.
Abraham pauses momentarily. He has never had boralith on fish and the thought entices him forward.
Hrrin waves them over more boisterously, jaw dropped in a grin.
Doctor Morello follows, amazed by the scale of this massive dining hall
Wayne: "This is one of the newer halls. You can tell because the walls haven't built up years of soot." Indeed, the dull metal gives the place an industrial look.
Ingenue: "Why do organic creatures consume organic creatures?"
Hrrin: "Tradition. Pleasure. Community."
Doctor Morello: "Because… well, it tastes pretty good."
Zinda Tegram: "Recycle the energy content, I believe."
Wayne: "To survive."
Abraham: "Because organic creatures are horrible at photosynthesis."
Doctor Morello: "Some anthropologists say that it was eating meat that allowed humans to evolve to become as intelligent as we are."
Zinda Tegram: "We also tend to die if we don't do it. Some people only elect to consume plants for ethical reasons, but they've historically had issues with nutrition."
Michael Pearson: "Uh. They're probably wrong about that, Commander."
Abraham: "Zinda is correct. It takes careful study and a wide variety of plants for humans to survive as vegetarians."
Michael Pearson nods towards his wife.
Wayne eyes Heggy. "Ah…I'm pretty sure I know what humans can eat, but I am unfamiliar with lago diets. They'll give us a higher portion of plants because you're here - will that be enough?"
Heggy: "Ithink so? That shouldbe fine."
Doctor Morello: "It's probable that Lagos took a very different evolutionary path than us."
Abraham: "I believe that theory is still controversial."
Wayne: "Quite so. And humans from us, too. For instance, you can't digest other people without health consequences. Not…that anything sentient is on the menu. We've banned that practice here."
Abraham: "A wise policy."
[OOC] WC GM: Anyone with Culture/Tech Kilrathi, or anything close, knows the Kilrathi are famous as predators, able to eat any spacefaring species they have come across to date - so far as records go, anyway. There are no reliable records of whether they could eat Nephilim.
Ingenue: "These creature were not capable of sensory perception?"
[OOC] Ingenue: Clearly further study is warranted. We need some Neph POWs, stat.
[OOC] Abraham: I would pay to see Hrrin eat a Nephilim.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: That would be… one use for them… I suppose.
[OOC] WC GM: This has played a significant role in their ritual hunts of various minor species. From what you've seen, this would be part of the warrior culture they are trying to get away from.
[OOC] Michael Pearson: I wouldn't. The suicide acid would probably cause burns.
[OOC] Ingenue: Probably no worse than the acid in the kilrah stomach.
[OOC] Michael Pearson: And nothing's worse than an apex predator in a lot of pain in a confined space.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Or maybe it will cook them like… Ah, I can't remember the name of that dish… it's sea food cooked in acid
[OOC] Michael Pearson: Lutefisk.
Wayne: "This meat came from the factories you saw. This wasn't 'creatures' at all."
[OOC] Doctor Morello: I think that's cooked in lye
[OOC] WC GM: It is.
[OOC] WC GM: Although "cooked" is used loosely.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Which is a base, right? I'm thinking of the latin american dish
[OOC] Ingenue: Ceviche?
[OOC] Doctor Morello: yeah!
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Nephilim Ceviche
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Lutefisk is scandinavian I believe.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: Swedish, specifically
[OOC] Abraham: Now you're cooking with acid, and I ain't lyeing.
[OOC] WC GM: Yes. And I've had quite a bit of personal exposure to it via family. If you want details, ask after session.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: I hear it's like…fish Jelly.
[OOC] Zinda Tegram: And awful.
[OOC] Ingenue: Yum. And by that I mean eww.
[OOC] WC GM: You hear correctly on both counts. I can tell you tales…later. :P
The first dishes arrive, lowered from the bridges by a sous-chef. A heaping pile of steaks in various dimensions - finger-sized up to arm-length - with white mash to either side, identifiable as mashed potato analogues, or possibly actual mashed potatoes.
Michael Pearson is grimacing slightly at the smells.
Zinda Tegram: "Do you have, uh, Mynock?"
Hrrin laughs, and points. "There. Next to the 'slaw."
Zinda Tegram: "J-just a bit…"
Wayne: "Dig in, dig in! That is the phrase, yes?" He picks up one of the larger steaks and begins chomping away.
Doctor Morello looks around for utensils
You notice there are no plates or silverware, aside from the trays the food was served on.
Doctor Morello shrugs, and picks up a chunk of meat with his cybernetic hand.
Abraham dives (not digs) in, grabbing something that might have been a trout in bad light speckled with the light blue boralith.
Michael Pearson stares at the food, not sure what to do.
Zinda Tegram is used to this, and nibbles her mynock wing quietly.
The tablecloth looks like it can be used as a napkin. Judging by the stretch marks in places, it has been, though there are no stains - apparently either it cleans itself, or is cleaned between meals.
Hrrin offers Spyboy a brisket from her double armload.
Abraham rips a chunk off of the piece in his hand with his teeth, chewing thoughtfully and swallows. "Interesting. Tastes like catfish… except crunchy."
Abraham continues to eat the chunk in his hand.
Glasses with water are soon lowered near the party. Again, similar evolution from similar function: transparent containers of liquid, and water is a basic liquid digestible by most organic life.
Abraham pauses before taking a sip. Kilrathi have some funny ideas what constitutes drinkable water. But since this is a science facility it's probably deionized water anyway.
This is some of the purest water Abraham has ever tasted.
Hrrin 's face is covered in meat juices, a little blood, and now water. She's a messy eater in her native culture, evidently.
Doctor Morello finishes his first chunk of meat. Smoke rises from his fingers as the remnants of the food still sticking to his hand are burned off.
Every water source has a taint of its origin. Minerals from "natural spring" water. A tang of runoff from water sources near agriculture…and a slightly different, though very muted, tang of recycled shipboard water. This? Abraham is having trouble identifying any contaminants in it.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Who needs wet naps when you can just burn the food off of your hands?
[OOC] Abraham: You do for the soot and ash.
Finally, SOMETHING green is lowered. Fruit, apparently, and leaves of…it is close enough to lettuce that it might as well be lettuce.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Well… hopefully that would just flake off, or else it wouldn't be a very good thermal sterilzer, would it?
Michael Pearson snags most of the vegetables and shares them with his wife.
Wayne looks at Ingenue. "You are not eating?"
Zinda Tegram: "Metis will eat when she chooses."
Zinda Tegram smiles at her daughter.
Zinda Tegram: "Though I understand that she is fond of ice cream."
Wayne raises an eyebrow. "I thought that humans could only consume ice cream in small quantities?"
[OOC] Ingenue: So, the leaves are basically green water?
Ingenue: "This unit does not require consumption of protein to generate energy or repair system functions. Further, this process seems to involve acidic components that could degrade the heat dissipation functions of this unit's skin."
Zinda Tegram: "Well, Metis, at least try it. Who knows, you may like it."
Hrrin laughs. "Humans /should/ only consume ice cream in small quantities."
Zinda Tegram: "Experience is a type of data too, isn't it?"
Hrrin: "Frequently, they do not."
Abraham: "Wait? We should?"
Hrrin: "According to human dieticians."
Ingenue: "Indeed. However, this unit has acquired the data of the components of this meal already, and is processing and recombining the data to simulate the meal arrayed, without the unnecessary… mess."
Abraham half heartedly mutters 'conspiracy'.
The sous-chefs ahems. Lowered in front of Ingenue is…at first glance it looks like a scoop of ice cream. At second glance it looks like a ball-shaped steak. Further inspection reveals it is strands of meat woven through a cream matrix - essentially, a steak-ice cream hybrid.
Ingenue: "Also, this unit does not have a 'stomach', and its waste disposal system involves plasma. It is necessary to limit intake of ooooooh?"
Zinda Tegram: "Metis, I insist. As your mother, I have authority in these things…oh god."
[OOC] WC GM: C'mon, you didn't think they did SCIENCE! to their food too?
Abraham: "This is either the holy grail of deserts or a blasphemy unto all religions in known space. And I eagerly look forward to learning which."
Doctor Morello: "Can't be worse than bacon ice cream."
A few more scoops are lowered. "Rarely get yourrr tongues here," the sous-chef offers. "Master chef wants your opinion."
[OOC] Ingenue: So, protein strands in a cream sauce, then frozen? Or is it not cold?
Hrrin nudges Zinda.
Hrrin: "Try it."
[OOC] WC GM: Frozen, yes. Meat is cooked before combining into ice cream - essentially, strand-steaks woven into ice cream.
[OOC] WC GM: Not dissimilar to bacon ice cream in concept.
Zinda Tegram gulps.
Zinda Tegram: "Do I, uh, have to?"
[OOC] Michael Pearson: Isn't bacon ice cream usually made with candied bacon?
Abraham: "It's part of setting a good example for your children, Zinda."
Ingenue: "Of course. Is not experience a type of data, mother?"
[OOC] WC GM: Thus why I said "in concept" rather than "in practice". ;)
Ingenue pauses, noting the absence of spoon, then leans forward to take a small lick. "Processing…"
[OOC] Abraham: The room collectively holds it's breath.
Ingenue: "Inconclusive. Further samples required."
Ingenue lick. Lick. Lick.
Ingenue Ingenue pause. "This portion may not be a sufficient sample. Are further samples available?"
The meat loses a bit of flavor being cold, and being in such small strands it has but internal texture. The weaving makes a valiant effort to repair or replace that structure, but the result is limited. That said, it is ice cream - barbeque sauce flavored, complimenting the meat.
Abraham: Seeing that Ingenue didn't explode or go 'Cogo Erata Sum. Now I destroy all sentient life in the universe', he takes a taste.
[OOC] Ingenue: That would be drawing a conclusion before full analysis can be made, which would not be thorough. Clearly, the only logical decision is to acquire more. Clearly.
SousChef: "Yes, is more. Opinions first."
[OOC] Ingenue: There is no gain in destroying all sentient life in the universe. You must vivisect them first. Duh.
Ingenue: "This unit has not processed the culinary data archives of this area yet. However, comparisons to terran foodstuffs is possible. This unit detects 'smoke' within the ice cream, a soft 'bite' from what may be cayenne pepper mixed with… red wine vinegar and molasses? It is uncertain if the Kilrathi has these compounds. However, the taste is unique, and pleasant."
[OOC] Ingenue: And it is impossible for ice cream to be bad, so says the tiny android. The End.
[OOC] Abraham: ^
[OOC] Doctor Morello: I dunno, I once had a terrible cake batter milk shake…
The sous-chef holds one hand to his ear. "Hmm…autotranslator error, but opinion recorded. Thank. Opinions of the rest?"
Zinda Tegram coughs. "It's…different."
Suddenly, the sous-chef on the bridge above cocks his head, listening to a transmission. He nods as another plate slides up to him on a track on the bridge railing. "For you, lago, special treat. Second master chef try constituting from dataprints, want your evaluation." He lowers it in front of Heggy; the contents are…at least orange and in the right general shape. "You can has carrot?"
Abraham: "I liked it. The creme melds on the tongue, leaving the meat strands to sit in the residue of the barbeque sauce, allowing the flavors to blend."
Heggy reaches out and takes the carrot, quizzically.
Hrrin: "I'd give feedback, but I believe my several minutes of excited and inarticulate noises were already on record."
[OOC] Abraham: It's a weapon. You shoot people with it. So says the great warrior, Bugs.
SousChef: "Ah." He - you think it is a he - smiles. "Yes, yes. That mixture intended result."
[OOC] Michael Pearson: Also Jazz.
Heggy takes a small nibble, then a larger bite.
Heggy: "It's a bit…soft, but that could be cooking. Something is off about the taste, though, not sure what."
Michael Pearson: "Here, let me try."
Michael Pearson takes a bite
Michael Pearson: "….tastes fine to me."
[OOC] WC GM: You were going to type up more?
[OOC] Michael Pearson: Not really? I'd have to make up words if she's gonna describe that it's lacking certain smells.
[OOC] WC GM: Which is what I thought you were going to do. :P Anyway, moving on…
SousChef: "Recorded. Thank. And now, more." Three more scoops of meat ice cream are lowered in front of Ingenue, and a few more for the rest of the party.
Wayne frowns for a moment, then gestures to Spyboy. "How well do you know our language? There may be translation issues, when we get to the server."
Hrrin scoops the meaty ice cream ball up with her hands, slurps and chomps away, and then licks her hands.
Michael Pearson: "I always meant to learn but never got around to it."
Michael Pearson shakes his head.
Ingenue lick lick lick. "I am fluent in Kilrah. Hrrin taught me." Lick. "The use of the tongue as a primary mechanism for consumption raises severe structural questions." Lick.
SousChef: "What would use instead?"
Ingenue: "Spoon. Essentially a miniaturized shovel."
SousChef: "Can make spoon with tongue."
[OOC] Abraham: You might want to point SousChef at #aeons since we waxed poetic about spoons not too long ago.
Zinda Tegram hides her smile at Metis's licking.
SousChef: "Can dig with hands."
Wayne holds up a hand, and the sous-chef stops before his rant can truly get underway.
Ingenue: "Messy. Inefficient. Compromises the structural stability of the…." pause. "Using the hands directly would work. However, empirical evidence suggests that humans dislike the appearance of the hands."
SousChef: "Is better general purpose implement?"
Abraham looks at the front, then the back, of his hands. "What? I like how my hands look just fine."
Zinda Tegram: "I don't think it'll be a problem right now Metis."
By now the fire above has gone out, and the last of the meat is being distributed.
Ingenue: "Are you certain? You and the doctor are the only humans who have seen this unit's hands without passing out… though the sample size is small. This may fall within expected parameters."
SousChef: "I see hands, though I no human."
Wayne, having finished his meal, cleans his fingers and face on the tablecloth. "Thank you for the meal," he offers up, then tilts his head back down to face the party. "You wished to see the server?"
Abraham: "Very much, please."
Zinda Tegram: "Yes. We do."
Wayne jumps over the table, to stand by the exit. "When you are ready."
Doctor Morello grabs a drumstick shaped thing for the road
Hrrin picks the last bit of marrow out of something, and stands.
Michael Pearson blinks at the impressive jump as he finishes up his apploid.
Abraham grabs one last lost and lonely steak before following Wayne.
Ingenue rises. "More server access, yes please."
Wayne: "This way." He leads down a few more corridors. "I've never been there myself, but I believe it should be right over…"
Michael Pearson and Heggy follow with the group Michael already has his computer out and is running a few searches.
The air warms as the party progresses.
Michael Pearson: "Your Excellency, is this server wired-only? I'm not getting any signal."
Ingenue pause. "[Warning: Rising heat levels approaching dangerous levels for human, lago, and kilrah tolerances.]"
Michael Pearson: "I see."
Michael Pearson: "Sorry, guys, someone's cleaned up the evidence."
Wayne: "Eh? No, it's…what, what do you see?"
Michael Pearson: "You feel that heat? Someone's fried the server, I'd say 95% confidence."
Wayne looks at Michael, puzzled, as he puts his hand on the door panel - then retracts it with a yelp.
Doctor Morello grabs his medical kit
Zinda Tegram cusses. "Why the hell aren't I surprised?"
Doctor Morello: "Let me take a look at that… paw."
The door begins to glow.
Ingenue: "…repeating verbally: Warning: Rising heat levels approaching dangerous levels for human, lago and kilrah tolerances…"
Zinda Tegram: "Get clear!"
Zinda Tegram turns around and sprints around the corner.
Doctor Morello looks to the rest of the group.
Ingenue: "Doctor, please move with all haste."
Doctor Morello follows Zinda
Michael Pearson pushes Heggy back, though given that she's faster than he is it's really more that he's towed.
Zinda Tegram yanks Doctor Morella around the corner when he gets close enough.
Michael Pearson: "Fire….suppression…systems?"
Alarm klaxons begin to sound, as a loudspeaker pipes up. "#WARNING: INFERNO DETECTED. WARNING: INFERNO DETECTED.#"
Wayne: "…"
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Inferno detected? How dramatic….
Abraham: "That sounds bad."
Wayne looks to Michael.
Wayne: "You're right. HIT THE FLOOR!"
Wayne makes himself as short as possible.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: I'd imagine that's not so short.
Heggy drops to the floor. Michael does so, too - but also pulls his pistol and checks the charge.
Hrrin has already dropped flat and is scrabbling at her side for a sidearm.
Michael Pearson does a passive sweep for neutrino sources, leveraging Ingenue's sensors if necessary.
The door EXPLODES as something combusts just behind it - but before the shockwave can hit the party, it is met and countered by a stream of what you suppose is fire suppressant flooding the top half of the corridor.
No neutrino sources are to be found. Whatever this is, the Nephilim are apparently not to blame - this time.
Ingenue: "[Initiating structural scan.]"
Zinda Tegram: "Metis, is it safe to go in there?"
Zinda Tegram: "Wayne! Is there a backup?"
The fire suppressant briefly beam-clashses with the overpressure, but soon wins out.
Ingenue: "Assessing."
Abraham: "More importantly, Metis, is anyone still alive in there?"
Michael Pearson: "And do the logs get copied there?"
Ingenue: "The structural integrity of this corridor is within acceptable parameters. Beyond this point, sensory analysis is difficult due to extreme temperatures. Further progress is not advised."
Doctor Morello: "Was there anyone inside?!"
Wayne: "Probably not. They were all with us just now."
Ingenue: "Scans inconclusive. This unit will proceed with a search when temperatures diminish to tolerance levels."
Wayne crawls back toward the party.
Michael Pearson: "What was in there, Wayne?"
Doctor Morello: "Wayne, are you okay?"
Michael Pearson: "Biological experiments, perhaps?"
Wayne: "I don't know! I told you, I have never been there before."
Hrrin: "What -else- did our server do? Do you know?"
Doctor Morello runs up to Wayne
Doctor Morello: "Are you okay?"
Michael Pearson: "I'm a little worried. A place this built up should have a LOT more wireless traffic than I'm seeing."
Wayne: "I'm fine…" He flexes his hand. "…but I may have burned myself. Let's get out of the way." He crawls back to the next junction, getting out from under the suppressant stream.
Doctor Morello crawls back with Wayne
Indeed, the doctor can easily see signs of a minor burn. Treatable with supplies on hand, though.
Doctor Morello deftly applies burn cream and gauze to the wound.
Ingenue: "Suggestion: Acquisition of pressure suits would be advisable to deal with lowering oxygen levels. In addition, the blaze makes it difficult to scan for aerial pollutants from burning circuit boards."
The source of the suppressant - some kind of large cannon and generator on wheels, manned by a trio of battlesuited kilrathi - trudges up the corridor, past the party.
Abraham: "Wayne, do you have any pressure suits about?"
Wayne: "I-I'm not sure…"
One of the firefighters looks at the party. "You. Admiral with the Ripping Claw. Swear that you did not cause this?"
[OOC] Michael Pearson: Hey, WC. Can I roll Assets to have a rebreather on hand?
[OOC] WC GM: Sure.
Doctor Morello scans Wayne with his fancy new neutrino scanning device.
Ingenue: "Ooooh….." Initiates a scan on the cannon, the battlesuits and… well, everything.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: Hmm… I may have one or two in my bag….
[OOC] Doctor Morello: I guess it would be part of first responder's equipment?
Michael Pearson rolled up 4dF: 0 - + 0 (Base: 3 Total: 3) (Assets to have a rebreather on hand)
[OOC] Ingenue: If that first responder might have to go into a depressurized/contaminated area to drag people out? Yes, yes it would be.
The battlesuits are nothing fancy. The cannon, on the other hand, seems to be generating suppressant from air at a remarkable speed - some kind of very high paced, but basic, molecular forge.
[OOC] Doctor Morello: So it is probable that I have a rebreather handy?
Michael has a rebreather in his pocket. Heggy has one too. The doctor has enough for everyone else save Ingenue.
Abraham rolled up 4dF: 0 - 0 0 (Base: 3 Total: 2) (Assets for Rebreather)
Doctor Morello distributes rebreathers to the rest of the group
Ingenue: "[That might be useful later…. storing data for later analysis.]"
Michael Pearson pulls the mask on and doublechecks to ensure Heggy's is secured.
Doctor Morello: "… The bag may not fully inflate, but oxygen should still be flowing."
Zinda Tegram accepts the rebreather and fumbles a bit putting it on.
Doctor Morello puts his own rebreather on before assisting the rest of the group. It's protocol.
Abraham turns to the firefighters. "I solemnly swear we did not cause this."
Zinda Tegram: "Wasn't us. We wanted to do data inspection on the server, but it blew before we got there."
Zinda Tegram: "If I may offer a guess, I think someone tried to destroy the evidence."
The firefighter nods. "Take your word. Think experiment went out of control."
Firefighter: "Possible. But also emulation of old terran architecture. Figured was bad idea."
Firefighter: "No offense, but some things, kilrathi way just better."
Doctor Morello: "Emulation of terran architecture?"
Firefighter: "Halt and Catch Fire."

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