= Outpost R-12 - Station Section 34 =
Wearing an oxygen mask, a phaser pistol in her right hand mounted with a flashlight and a tricorder in her left hand, Lieutenant Dacour and her team of two marines walked through the corridors of the station, sweeping the derelict structure deck by deck, gathering info but also making sure there were no hostiles hiding anywhere.
They'd come to Section 23 when Pazla picked up a very faint energy signature on her tricorder and the set off down the maze of corridors to investigate just what exactly was giving off the energy signature. It was so faint that the tricorder couldn't make out effectively what kind of energy it was.
"We're getting closer," Pazla said as they continued forward. "I think it's in this next section."
The team entered Section 35 and walked down a corridor into a large engineering room that contained the station's secondary fushion generators.
"Those generators aren't powered," Sergeant Treor noted.
"Maybe it's residual energy," Corporal Manchen suggested.
"It's not residual and it's not coming from the generators," Pazla said as she studied her tricorder. "See that cylinder there? It's coming from that."
Treor shone his light on the cylinder and stepped closer to get a better look. "This doesn't look like Starfleet technology to me. Romulan, maybe?"
"I don't think it's Romulan either, boys," Pazla said as she leaned closer. Her commbadge chirruped and she almost jumped. "Dacour here," she tapped it.
"Lieutenant Dacour, this is the Rapier. Commander Telsons requests that you return to the Rapier. The Jameson has tractored the shipyard and we are ready for departure," the ops officer's voice said.
"Please put me through to the captain," she requested, still looking at the device.
"Telson here," came the commander's response after a few seconds. "Something the matter, lieutenant?"
"I'm sorry my inspections gone into overtime, sir, but I think we've found something... some sort of device in the station's auxiliary reactor room. We can't determine it's origin, but it's definitely not Federation and..."
There was a sudden loud noise as the doors behind them closed out of their own accord. Pazla looked back at the device and it appeared to be pulsating.
"Lieutenant? Pazla, come in..."
"Sir, we're locked in and the device just started pulsating. I have no idea what—"
"Stand by, I'm beaming you out of there."
Hank had hardly spoken when the blue transporter lights enveloped the group. A moment later they were standing in Transporter Room 1 back on the Rapier. Wasting no time, Pazla stepped off the pad and headed towards the door but light tremors suddenly appeared and then a powerful jolt nearly sent her flying to the ground.
She grabbed the railing bar against the transporter console as the lights flickered and the transporter pad went dead. A moment later emergency lighting came on.
"What the hell was that?" the half-Klingon officer said as she hurried to a wall terminal while Treor and Manchen helped each other up.
Reading the incoming damage report, Pazla felt shocked and relieved at the same time. The device they'd been staring at only a few minutes earlier had turned out to be a bomb of some kind. It had exploded and knocked out the Rapier's shields. Luckily there was no damage to the hull and the other three ships suffered no damage. If the shipyard had still been attached to the station, then it would have been destroyed as well.
"That was close," Treor said as he read over her shoulder.
"Too close," Pazla muttered under her breath.
= End Log =
A-Lieutenant Pazla Dacour
Executive Officer
USS Rapier NCC 61582
