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Into Hemlock's Field, Part 1

Posted on Tue Mar 22nd, 2016 @ 11:27am by Lieutenant Commander Vanora Stele & 1st Lieutenant Taylor Price & Staff Sergeant Patrick Shark & Commander Khelev ch'Koro [Halan] & Lieutenant Colonel Jonathon Hayter [Hawkins]

Mission: Hemlock's Field 2391 [USS Resolute-A]
Location: Hemlock's Planet
Timeline: After "The Rise of the Legend" and "New Secret Spy Stuff"

Making her way through the Resolute carrying twin Mek'leth at her hips and a brown duster coat over the top of brown cowboy boots, jeans, a black shirt and a brown pure wool felt fedora, Keira stopped inside the landing bay, carrying a Denobulan field medical kit. She had taken the liberty of deciding to practise with more alternative treatments as well while off the Gladiator, which had always been an interest for her. They could work quite effectively and still used by Marine combat medics, even if Starfleet personnel could be a bit squeamish about it - well, they could all just suck it up and let her work.

Arriving, Keira found that she was early and sighed, her natural exuberance having led her to be ready well ahead of time. Leaning against the shuttlecraft, Keira put down the kit and chewed on some gum as she listened to some heavy metal music on earbuds.

Tayla and Anna arrived together, having gone over last minuet security issues. Tayla went right for the shuttle and started to prep it while Anna just folded her arms and looked at Keira with a bit of a smirk. "Nice tunes, you'll blow your ear drums keeping it that loud."

Keira pulled the earbuds out and grinned, "Nah, its cool, Lieutenant. They are special one I setup for appearance of my persona. Most of the sound is actually broadcast outwards, and they are at normal levels going in. Do you think its too much? My persona probably would have given you the bird too, but I thought it would have been inappropriate before we take off, Ma'am."

Arkyn arrived just a short while later. His demeanor had completely changed. He walked with a bit of a swagger, hair slicked back. He was wearing Blue Jeans, a black muscle shirt and a black leather jacket. He had twin TR-110s at his thighs and two more in holsters at his rib cage. He had a scar that wasn't there before down the right side of his face, cutting through his eye. His eyes were now a a really piercing green color. His brown hair was now black and slicked back.

Having arrived in the medium sized Hanger bay, Lisa wore a Green jacket with Camo pants, Lisa had realized that at the briefing that she had forgot to ask about the defenses that they would face upon arrival on the planet, this she had made a mental note to learn from. She moved towards the shuttle still not happy with herself for not asking in the first place, She thought ~ maybe I could ask the Captain when she get here?~ as she neared the craft.

Zera sauntered into the bay, hands in the pockets of a pair of worn but still functioning beige work pants. His nose ridges were gone, instead replaced with a crooked nose that could almost be mistaken for a witch's. He wore an old ACDC shirt, with a leather jacket on top. He reprogrammed his wristband to act as an inventory display, and with a single touch he could bring up a list of items which he could easily replicate. His knife was strapped to his lower calf, and under the jacket two pistols rested against his sides. His hair was now a dark brown and mussed up, and he allowed some stubble to speckle his hair. To top it all off, he had a pair of black work boots, scuffed with wear and tear. "Relax, lady," he said to Lisa, giving her a solid pat on the back as he passed. He added a twang to his voice as he spoke. "Y'ull give yerself a headache."

Price entered the bay behind the others, he was casual with his walk, a slow sort of careless walk that echoed some of his current demeanor. He was dressed in slacks that probably were khaki at some point, now they were closer to caramel, he had on a black short sleeve short, and a worn leather bomber jacket. If he hadn't been wearing the jacket people would have seen the scars that ran up down his arm and the size of his neck, and the tattoos that tried to cover them. Showing them might have helped his cover more. They were burn scars from his youth, the whole reason he's run from home to be upfront. There wasn't a single weapon visible, that didn't mean they weren't there. There was a wreath sheath that held a knife, a boot sheath and a garrote tucked around his waist. He was comfortable with the weapons on hand and since almost everyone on the mission figured him to be an unstable homicidal Marine, he was completely content not being overly sociable.

"This is Stele," a voice came over the general comm. "From this point forward, *only* address each other by your aliases. You're all responsible for each other, so make sure no one slips up. Mr. Miles," she called out Hayter by his false identity as a private contractor. "Get everyone on board and take the ship down."

Vanora pressed a button on her console and the shuttle bay doors opened, though the force field flickered momentarily, showing that the bay was not yet depressurized. Any outside ship or observer on the planet saw only a civilian freighter in orbit. "Bay doors open, force field controls transferred to your shuttle, you are clear for launch."

As they sat in the shuttle, Zera took a moment to close his eyes. Part of the minute action was to get into character, but it was mostly to calm his nerves. Normally he wouldn't be nervous about an undercover mission like this, but it was the fact that he was simultaneously field testing a prototype that had him on edge. He could feel the small, flat squares in his pockets, which were the extra set of clothes he brought with him in case the prototype failed, and it was the exact same outfit that he was wearing so it wouldn't raise suspicion. The clothes were tightly folded in a specific manner so that they were a little bigger than a computer chip and could fit almost anywhere, like his pocket, thus saving the need for a bag of clothes. Granted, they were a little thinner than the Mnemonic suit he was wearing, but it would do.

He glanced over at Arkyn and Price, both of whom he had informed of the field test as recommended by Vanora. They came up with a simple code phrase that would alert him if the suit malfunctioned without his knowledge, and he would create a response which would excuse him to go change elsewhere. Telling himself that it would be fine, he opened his eyes as the shuttle powered up.

Lisa sat in the shuttle still wondering what she was here for, as she wore a blue tank top with yellow pants, which she used to wear when she had been dating Paula and hadn't had a use for them until now, However;she was here and ready to do whatever was asked of her.

Tayla, under the name of Hana Zixja sat in the copilots chair next to Hayter. "Hold on to your butts." she called back to the away team. "Here we go." she said as she smoothed her silk loose red halter top, which she wore over her black jeans. The top barely seemed to hang on to her body, however if they got into a fight she need only to pull one string behind her head to tighten the garment up and not impaled her fight. Her hair was done up nicely, although the tips of her hair sprayed out in different directions. Sometimes a little skin never hurt, and being a trill her spots would catch eyes, distraction was as much powerful as anything in deals like this.

In her hair she had vorhl sticks, which looked like chop sticks, but were flexible, sharp and potentially deadly. around her neck and wrist she wore a beaded necklace. Each bead was chunky and large, but attractive, and was a mini grenade. They went undetected because the explosive reaction did not happen unless she ripped them off the thin chain.

Around her biceps she had silver swirls, the were also flexible, much like the Vohrl sticks in her hair. She could yank them back and they would straighten and become a weapon. Other items on her person included a flowery hair clip which hid intense illness inducing patches, which she could touch to the skin of a victim and they would be brought to their needs. Three patches would be fatal, but one or two would just make for a miserable few days. Some of the rings on her fingers could do several things, including taking dna samples or injecting a poison, or truth serum, depending on which one she activated. She smirked to herself.

Never trust a beautiful woman.

Over the years she'd collected knowledge about unusual weapons and disguised weaponry, but she'd needed an experienced resource, Luckily, she'd talked to one recently. She'd enjoyed spending some time with Commander Kavi a few months earlier and learning more about these sorts of weapons, more than she had remembered from her Symbiant. Mercia had helped her acquire these times for the mission, and helped her remember how to use them. They were trade secrets of Black Widows, which Mercia had once been.


Percival Trumble paced anxiously as he watched the shuttle coming down toward a landing zone near the main marketplace. Under Hemlock's leadership, this backwater had become a vibrant port for smugglers and pirates. All of whom were being gradually pulled into his control, whether by blackmail, coercion, or actual conversion to the struggle. Trumble was one of his lieutenants, so to speak, though the gang didn't have formal ranks. Those who proved themselves capable were rewarded; those who were found too weak or unenthusiastic were "taken care of." Which of those categories Devin Miles and his recruits fell into was yet to be seen.

When the shuttle doors opened Tayla stepped out along side of Hayter and spotted Trumble. She smiled brightly and strolled ahead, her eyes focused on him. She noticed a few enforcers close by, but she had to keep a face on and rely on her team to watch her back. "Percival correct?" she purred with a bright and welcoming tone. She held her hand out to shake his. "Hana Zixja, this is Devin Miles." she said playing her part. "And Khelev ch'Koro, our ships first mate." Pursers made contracts and contacts. They were often pretty females full of charm spirit, with a backbone. Tayla fit the bill for sure. "And this is the core of our crew." she said motioning to the group gathering in behind her.

John stood before the group with his cigar in his mouth chewing slightly on it as he wore a long black trench coat and black sun glasses on. He nodded with a slight grin as he looked at Hana. "I was told you were the person to talk to."

"You want to meet Hemlock," Trumble said carefully as he gave each member of the crew a once over. "What do you bring in way of tribute, to earn such a privilege?" Percival wasn't sure this was always the right strategy to recruit for the cause, but Hemlock had insisted.

Hana laughed and smacked his arm playfully, and ran her fingers down his arm, "Oh our skills are plenty tribute. But in-case he wants more, we brought some interesting weaponry to negotiate with." she purred.

"Yeah, what my slave girl said," John shrugged slightly as he looked at her before Trumble. "They are expecting us. We had already planned this out and got the green light. Otherwise, we wouldn't waste our time coming here. So ya want to do your thing or should we just shoot you now and leave your body here for the rats to eat up?"

Tayla shot John a look, "And you can see why I am the one who talks to contacts." she laughed. "The point though is, we did not leave our potential contracts, to be deiverted and messed with. We came to meet Hemlock, and we have pleanty to offer." she said quickly.

Khelev had be relatively silent up until this point, it was calculated but he decided he really needed to push this over the top and they needed to get in with these guys. He stepped around and in front of Tayla and looked down at Trumble. "Maybe you don't recognize the name, but I was one of the Chief architects on the phantom core and if it gets your boss out here I volunteer as tribute. Now go get him before I start feeling violent."



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