Snooping (Part I of IV)
Location: Radon Corporation Storage Bay
Timeline: MD -4 0100
Morty was a professional, a specialist. So was Paveen and Kreb. There wasn't a computer system Kreb couldn't hack. There wasn't a lock Paveen couldn't open. And there wasn't a booby trap Morty couldn't disarm.
And this one was a beauty.
"Well?" Paveen asked. She was keen to be inside but not to be blown to bits.
"The bartender wasn't exaggerating. Its a beaut. An absolute beaut. " The human sat back on his heels. They were in the corridor outside Raddon's storage bay, looking at the door release mechanism.
"No wonder Gev is dropping bricks on this one." Kreb agreed. The bolian checked his padd. All the feeds were still looped and diverted. They were still invisible.
"Can you deal with it, or do we abort?" Paveen looked over Morty's shoulder.
"It's got its own power source, just like she said. Cut it off and it all goes boom." Morty got out his tricorder. "And a couple of other fail safes to prevent tampering. Nothing too complex." He opened his back pack, looking for the right tools. "Adding the right override diodes will be fun."
"Once we get paid," Kreb said, "You and I are going to have a conversation about what that word actually means"
Morty laughed. "Once we get paid, mate, we'll all be far too drunk to discuss semantics." He flipped open his tray of goodies and selected a couple, as well as a multi-tool to weld them in with. There were a few sparks as they were fixed in place. "Stand back. Just in case the dunny hits the windmill." Switching the power through his rewiring should deactivate it. But the alternative was a possibility. The others shuffled backwards a bit, and let Morty throw the switches.
Nobody died instantly. Morty cracked an eyebrow. All lights were green. Excellent. "Alright Pav, she's all yours."
He and Paveen swapped places. The Cardassian woman had learnt her tricks as part of the resistance to the dominion during the war. With the war over, she had found more freedom and profit in putting what she learnt as a girl to commercial use as an adult.
Tripping the locks on this door required nothing more than a few twists to the manual catches. Its security was predicated on the unfriendly booby trap, and biometric systems that Kreb had already dealt with. "Here we go!" She said, and turned the release.
With a hiss, the inner-sanctum of the cargo bay began to pressurize. It took several minutes for the process to complete, making it possible for the three scavengers to enter through the massive 15 foot tall doors and enter the storage facility.
Morty let out a long appreciative whistler. "Rainbow Bright wasn't taking the piss. This place is big."
Kreb and Paveen looked around. "And stuffed." Paveen added. "What in heaven does that human want with all this stuff."
"Gabriel told Yolanthe medical research." Kreb replied
"Medical research my arse." She pointed to one case, marked in the waveform script of Dominionese. "That says 'Class three plasma rifle'."
"Well this little Aladdin's cave ain't gonna catalogue itself, mate." Morty packed away his tool pouch and pulled out a tricorder. "Lets split up and get this done. The longer we're in here the longer the system has to work out its sensors have been scrambled and it all goes to shit."
Nodded, the other two fanned out.
The facility was filled with large crates. Some were placed on the ground while others were placed on the higher scaffolds that were suspended several dozen feet above the ground. The arrival of the scavengers caused several minor maintenance drones to activate and begin to run self-diagnostic routines and checking the integrity of the various crates throughout the facility.
Paveen looked down. "What are these? Shouldn't one of you have turned them off?"
Kreb stopped one with his foot and scanned it. "Don't sweat it, they're self contained. Just don't open anything until I'm ready, or there'll be issues."
"Issues?" Morty snorted. "And you think I have problems with language." He strolled down a row of boxes, all in institutional industrial grey, some with flashing lights, some not. "Ah, Kreb, before you fix the rodent 'issue', I think this one is yours."
On the far side of the facility was a large computer panel with a tactile interface that required a hand print to activate. The panel itself was inactive and only had the organization's trademark of "RC" sitting ominously on the screen.
The Bolian pulled out a collapsible stool and sat down, examining the interface. "This is top of the line. Bit OTT for a warehouse." He leant down and looked at the access panel, then raised an eyebrow to Morty.
"Nah, mate, have a rage. I'll crack on with the catalogue." He turned around scanning the boxes. Nothing was obviously booby trapped. "Pav, what you got?"
"Look at this." The Cardassian indicated a row of disturbingly coffin sized crates. These had a line of small green lights discreetly at the side resting on the floor. "This box has got a biological content. There's stuff in there that's reading like preservative."
"What's in it?" Morty asked, squatting down to examine the lighs, wondering if there were any other controls.
"The box says Jem'hadar; well one of the words says Jem'Hadar." Paveen shrugged. "I can't read the rest."
Morty stepped back as if the box had burnt him. "There's a Jem'hadar in there?"
"No idea." Paveen looked around. "Want me to open it it up?" She started reaching for her own tools.
Morty's sucked his teeth. He shouldn't. They should wait for Kreb. "Kreb, it it okay to crack one of these?"
There was a long pause. "Kreb?" Monty shouted out. A longer moment later the Bolian's distracted voice came. "Yeah, yeah, all good."
Monty nodded, and helped Paveen push the crate onto the horizontal. "Well, this is a turn up," she decided after a moment.
"Going to need me to do it?" Monty asked, "I've got some liquid boom?"
Paveen rolled her eyes at him. "'Subtle', remember. 'No one realises we're here', remember?" she turned around. "No. This is fairly simple really, much more so than I expected." She selected a thin pick and pried off the lock panel. "Hmm, Its just a numeric sequence lock. Primitive really. I'm disappointed." She started to work on it. "After the front door, this is depressingly easy." It only took a moment. Then she entered the number, and opened it.
To Be Continued...
Kreb, Morty & Paveen
Industrial Espionage Specialists
(NPC by Soran)