RP Log: Delonine V - The Expanding Enigma

Roleplay Log
Participants: McAllister Castillo	Worthington Tilar Ramirez
Location(s): USS Phoenix Bridge Delonine V Attic
Stardate: 136328.11
2025-11-13 11:19

Attic <Delonine V>

Not large, and not small, the attic is what it is, an attic. The walls slope downward at the sides, but the ceiling is tall enough in the middle to stand. A mattress lays in one corner, but it has seen better days. Two wooden chairs are also here.

A small dirt crusted window overlooks the street below.

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Sending request for communication to Lieutenant McAllister.

Cristobal says, "Sir, this is Ramirez, down on the planet. The duty officer notified me in a message that you will be joining us on the away team, and that I should brief you on the general situation and mission objectives. Is now a good time?"

[Ramirez's Commbadge] McAllister says, "Yes, if you don't mind that is. I really need to stretch my legs, I won't be taking over command either."

Cristobal chuckles. "Sir, not my command to relinquish. I'm here to provide covert assistance, investigative support, and security. Lieutenant Alue is in charge, as far as I know." He pauses, thinking. "Have you read the reports posted in the archive by Lieutenant Castillo?"

[Ramirez's Commbadge] McAllister says, "I've glanced over them but honestly not made much impression on me."

Cristobal pauses, then begins summarizing, "Well, I just wanted to understand what you know. As it stands, our mission parameters are currently very clear. We are attempting to ascertain the general medical, economic, security, and cultural situation on this planet before conducting more specific specialist missions to investigate a landing site, and a settlement that is linked to it by a road."

"Traces of what is likely impulse drive were detected in the atmosphere, they are over ten years old. The road and landing structure have not been maintained in a decade, either. There are dozens of different humanoid species down here; at least 1 of them we are fairly certain is not native to this planet. Specifically, the Nuvol."

"With me, so far?"

[Ramirez's Commbadge] McAllister says, "Yep sit and watch job."

Cristobal grins, unseen, but it can be heard in his tone. "Precisely. Currently, we've secured shelter, but there are clear signs of economic distress. Starvation. Despair. We are going to be exploring the current settlement we are in, gathering what information we can, then likely moving to the settlement with the landing site, which is some distance away."

"This planet is not yet warp capable, so full Prime Directive protocols are in place. You need to speak with Doctor Tilar, and request that she surgically alter you to be a Nuvol. Openly bring nothing more sophisticated than a knife and a bag; a concealed Type-1 phaser with no extra power cell is authorized. A concealed tricorder is authorized. Make sure it's all tucked away. Secure clothing appropriate for the planet. Once you're ready to go, beam down to my location; it is safe for transport."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] McAllister says, "Alright noted."

Cristobal says, "Other than that, I think we can figure out the rest of the plan once you've joined us."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] McAllister says, "Give me an hour or two I suppose and I'll be with you"

Cristobal says, "That sounds just fine, sir. I'm going nowhere. Just give me a warning before you beam down so that I can be certain the coast is clear, so to speak."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Quintin says, "Give me a few and I'll transport to you"

Cristobal says, say, "Yes, sir. Ramirez out."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Connection to McAllister terminated.

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Opening communications channel from McAllister.

Cristobal says, "Ramirez here."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Quintin says, "It's Quint. Is the area clear? I'm ready to transport down with Doctor Tilar."

Cristobal says, "You're clear to bean down sure. Just...watch your head and don't move until you get your bearings. You'll understand when you materialize."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Quintin says, "Understood. See you soon. Quint out."

Cristobal says, "Ramirez out."

The swirl of the transporter brightly fills the small hallway in which Cristobal, disguised as a Nuvol, stands. Two figures materialize, resolving into Lieutenants Viari Tilar and Quint McAllister.

Cristobal nods his head to Quinton, then Viara. He looks between the two of them, and is clearly performing a sort of inspection.

The doctor arrives and pauses, blinking once as she looks around the new environment. Viari looks over at Cris as he appears, giving him a once-over as well. "Everything going okay so far?"

Cristobal seems no worse for wear, though they building they are in probably has seen better days. Over in the corner, there is a soft *squeak* as local rat-analogue moves in the shadows, following Cristobal's motions expectantly. "So far. If you'll both follow me, we'll get sorted. And be quiet. Landlady will want to know where you came from." He passes into the small attic that serves as their base of operations.

Cristobal motions around the room. Prina Alue sleeps over in the corner, on a mattress, her clothing serving as her blanket. Several more of the rat analogues crouch in the shadows of one corner. The smell of urine and feces wafts in from the alleyway visible out the window. "Well. Welcome home." Quintin glances around and sniffs the air. "Smells like Glasgow."

Viari follows Cris up the stairs and looks around, glancing over at Alue before returning her gaze to Cris. "This is... not ideal. You were not wrong when you mentioned the lack of sanitation."

Cristobal shrugs to Viari. "I felt like my report was specific and accurate." He shakes his head. "I'm just glad we got authorization to begin in earnest." He nods to the chairs. "Feel free to sit while I fill you both in?" And then he looks to Quint. "You know...? I've never been to Glasgow. Now I'm not sure I want to go."

Quintin leans against the window, watching the outside with genuine interest. "It's not changed in four hundred years. Still a runinous pile, the English came and thought that's what the rest of God's own country looked like and went home."

"Where's that?" Viari asks, looking between the two. She does settle herself into one of the chairs, setting her bag down on the floor beside her. "Tell me what you've got so far, Cris." Cristobal chuckles at Quint's comment. The chuckle then turns to an outright laugh. His own faintly languid and mushy accent is pretty hard to pin down, but it's DEFINITELY not Glaswegian. "That certainly explains Scottish and English history."

He holds a hand up, fingers slightly curled. "England's here." He points to the bottom half of his hand. "Glasgow's here." He points sort of 2/3s of the way up to the left. "Glasgow's here. England took over Scotland a long time ago. Earth history."

Then he lowers his hand and blows out a breath. "Starvation. Which probably also means a bunch of various diseases. We've established a solid place to strike out from. W know the Nuvol are called the N'vol here, so I should be able to pass. I think." He looks to Vi. "If we need a genetic pattern, we should have Nuvol DNA on record in the Phoenix medical archives, Doctor Tilar."

Quintin glances away from the window. "So, what's the plan then?"

Viari nods slowly at the explanation Cris gives, a bit of realization hitting her when she understands that they're talking about Earth. "OH. Okay that makes a bit more sense." Then she blinks again and wrinkles her nose. "There are still places on Earth that smell like this?"

Then Cris is explaining the situation on the planet and she listens closely, lacing her fingers together and watching him. "Starvation can compromise the immune system; these people could be sick, or they could just be hungry. Do we know why there's food scarcity here yet? I already assume that no one has figured out HOW these people got here yet."

Cristobal nods between Quintin and Viari. "Recon. Prime Directive rules are in full effect. We are to take no action that could potentially compromise development of this world. At least, for now. There's pretty clearly, to me, been come contamination already, but we've no idea to what extent."

He points out the window. "There's a marketplace that way. I think our first objective should be to go to the market in a two person team." He shrugs. "Ascertain the medical and food situation; scan the locals surreptitiously to get a better idea of general health, if possible, and then figure out what we can about the people here, so we can compare them to the people closer to where our extra-planetary visitors made camp a decade ago."

He waves. "We need authorization to move further, but that's what /I/ think needs to happen." He looks between the two. "Thoughts? Suggestions?"

Quintin shakes his head. "Sounds like a solid course of action."

Viari nods slowly, looking thoughtful. "There has, but just because there are multiple species here now doesn't mean that they'd understand yet another unknown factor. We don't know if 'new people' or outsiders are commonplace. Deferring to following Prime Directive protocols is the right choice."

Her eyes flick over to the window briefly before returning to the group. "I can probably run some basic scans from here, but getting closer samples would provide more data, obviously. I can check their genetics and their level of malnutrition. I'm concerned that introducing food too quickly will cause things to actually get worse; you can't just feed someone who is starving. There's a process so that you don't kill them."

She leans back in her seat, arms folding loosely over her chest. "As for the marketplace... those are often central hubs for civilizations. We can likely get a great deal of information there. What's the cover story? Where are we from? What are we looking for?"

Cristobal nods to Vi, grinning a wry and lopsided smirk. "Plenty of fecal and urine samples out in the alley for you, Doctor." His eyes sparkle in humor. Then he nods. "We're small-time traders from a village far to the southwest. We're trying out hand at overland travel to do better n our trade."

He motions expansively. "I had heard there was some concern about food quality? I suggest we get Phoenix to replicate some low quality flatbread from some grain type we'll obtain a sample of in the market. We barter for a sample -- we can trade one of the knives away -- and beam it back to Phoenix for analysis. In this way, we avoid contamination."

His eyes look to Vi. "Acceptable?"

Quintin nods. "Good plan."

Viari makes a face at Cris as he mentions the samples in the alley. "I don't know who those came from," she counters, giving him a similarly wry smirk. "What do we trade? Food?"

She nods in agreement at the mention of food quality. "Yes, I was concerned about providing anything particularly nutrient rich for the reasons I've stated; it can actually harm people more than help them. And we don't want to have a surplus because that may draw some unwanted attention. Desperate people do desperate things. I would recommend seeing what KIND of food they have first, then have the Phoenix replicate something similar."

Quintin says, "We could aquire a sample of some kind and send that back as well?"

Cristobal looks to Quint, grinning. "Your part comes later, Lieutenant. You think you can perform a professional analysis of a landing structure that was designed to handle impulse engine-powered freighter traffic? And yes. I agree. We should do the same with the landing structure. Samples, I mean."

He looks back to Viari, nodding once. "Yes, that would seem like the wisest course, Doctor. So we'll do it your way. We'll trade a knife for a sample of some food, and beam it back to Phoenix. Then we know for sure we're not going to kill anyone or create some kind of bubble market or health event."

A single nod. "Again. This is just MY plan. It'll have to be approved. But we lose nothing gathering information and samples."

Quintin picks up a small rock from the windowledge, rolling it in the palm of his hand and then tossing it lightly into the air. Catching it in his left hand he clenches it into a fist, shakes it and then opens it to show an empty palm. "Now imagine if that was a small titbit of food eh?"

Viari nods in agreement, seeming pleased with the arrangement. "Yes, I think that's a good plan. I have a lot of questions, and very few answers at this time. I don't suppose you happen to know if new people come through here? I don't know if that's come up in any conversations you've had so far."

Cristobal watches Quint, and chuckles. "Great way to get knifed, maybe. Caution, sir." He grins. And then looks back to Vi. "Not explicitly. However, the old woman who runs this boarding house seemed to be just fine with strangers looking for a room. The implication is that happens often. no?"

There is a knock at the door, the woman who rented the room asks, "Do you have more bread, or money? You said there would be another loaf." She sounds hopeful, but also desperate.

"It's not rare at least," Viari agrees with a nod. "That does help. That means that us being from 'not here' isn't going to necessarily be an issue." Her fingertips press together, steepling somewhat in front of her. Hearing the knock at the door, Viari goes quiet, brows lifting slightly as she turns her head over to look at Cris.

Quintin looks back from the window and nod to Cris in the direction of the door.

Cristobal looks over his shoulder to the other two, then at Prina sleeping, checking to make sure no tech-related gear is out. Then he opens the door, body language open. A squeak from the hinges accentuates the motion of the door. As he opens the door, he pulls out a loaf of the same bread from before, holding it in hand so that it is the first thing she sees.

Cristobal's new friends might be a surprise, given they didn't come in through the front door. "I made a deal, madam." He again offers a smile he hopes doesn't come off as intimidating. "For you." He pauses, then, "You know, I never did get your name. Perhaps you could give me that, and tell me and my friends what can be found in the marketplace?"

The woman stands at the entryway, and gladly accepts the load of bread, "So you do have money, if you are going to the market. You can get anything you want there, food, drink, clothes, jewelry, trinkets. I've been able to barter for a few things for food, but for the rest, you will need money. My name is Vuzze". She sees two more strangers, "Are you of the N'Vol?"

Viari offers the woman a small smile, then shakes her head. "I am not, no. It's nice to meet you, Vuzze. Thanks for watching my friend here. I hope he hasn't given you any trouble." Her tone is teasing as she gestures in Cris' direction. She doesn't immediately rise from her position on the chair, instead just watching their guest. "I haven't been to this area before. You seem to know quite a bit. Is the market here just a gathering of people selling their wares, or is there someone in charge over the whole thing?"

Quintin remains quiet, allowing the others to speak but still offers a pleasant smile to the woman. Cristobal lets the others answer for themselves, having already briefed them. Once they do, he interjects, "We've no money, Vuzze." Very carefully and slowly, he reaches for his knife, holding the other hand out so she knows it's not in anger. He shows her the blade. "We were hoping to trade for some money. Is there someone there who would buy good, new steel?" And then he quiets, letting her answer the fusillade of questions.

The woman stares at Viari, confusion evident in her expression, "You openly admit to not be of the N'Vol?" After a long pause to contemplate Viari's response she shakes her head, "All are Uaye, subservient to the protectorate. Buyers and sellers come from all over to sell their wares." She looks the knife over, "You may be able to sell that for money." Just then a chime sounds from somewhere distant, somewhat like a church bell. Vuzze turns to leave with her loaf of bread, "I must pray. Be careful who you tell you are not of the N'Vol, some will not understand." She leaves.

"Thank you for the advice, I will be careful who I tell," Viari tells the woman, pressing her palms together and bowing her head in a gesture of thanks and humility. She waits until the woman leaves and the door closes, one brow rising as she looks at Cris. "That would have been good to know before. Any further personnel that might join, regardless of appearance, will need to be of N'Vol. It also makes me wonder moreso what role the Nuvol have here. Or had, if they aren't here any longer."

Cristobal frowns, nodding to the old woman. "We come from far away, Vuzze." He smiles. "Before you go? It is a game, we play. My friends and I. What do you think our names are?" He motions to his companions. "I love to hear what names people give us. A past time. Just give us the first name that pops into mind, before you go to pray.

Vuzze responds quickly, "You are like me, like all, Uaye. I do not know your names beyond that. The First waits for me, I must pray." She disappears down the stairs.

Cristobal shuts the door with a squeak-click. Over in the corner, the rat-analogue circus squeaks back in response. Then he turns to the others. "So, let's review. Being of the N'Vol matters. Maybe it has nothing to do with the Nuvol, who knows. We are all of the Uaye. The First is a religious figure, god, whatever. As Uaye, we are subservient to the protectorate. We have no idea what the protectorate is." He pauses. "Did I miss anything?"

"Prayers appear to be done on a schedule." Viari lifts one finger. "There was a bell. A chime. I don't know what that schedule looks like. It'd be worth noting the frequency at which it rings. We may want to follow any public rituals that we see if it happens while we're in public."

Quintin returns his gaze out of the window, eyes looking around for signs of potential information. "I must admit I thought we were done then when you said we weren't. How many times have you heard that bell since you've been here?"

Cristobal nods, then notes, "My tricorder is running a complete mission audio log. We should be able to confirm it, but my recollection is once a day, around this time." He considers. "We don't want to be moving when it rings, or we stick out. Yes, we need to figure out what local ritual looks like. Alternately, good cover to do something, potentially."

He looks to Quint. "Quint, can you stay with Prina while I escort Vi to the market to see about getting some information, and some money? I'd prefer no one moves around alone."

Viari shakes her head at the mention of moving around when the bell rings. "No, we definitely don't want to be out and about when that happens. That would definitely draw the wrong kind of attention, especially after that reaction." She nods towards the door. "It would be worth eventually figuring out what their prayer rituals look like, but I'd also recommend waiting a little bit before heading out to the market; we don't know how long this prayer is supposed to take. We might not want to be caught outside if we're supposed to be in prayer."

Quintin nods. "Yea sure."

Cristobal considers Viari's suggestion, then gives her a slow, considered nod. "You're right. Leaving now without any idea of what local custom is would be risky, for no good reason. This marketplace sounds like it will be busy." He shrugs. "Let's organize notes, and report in to Lieutenant Castillo, and inform her of the plan?"

"Busy isn't necessarily bad, but I'd be more concerned about wandering when we shouldn't be." Viari rubs lightly at the side of her neck and puffs out a breath between her lips, nodding to him. "Sure, that sounds like a good idea."

You tap your commbadge and speak into it.
[Ramirez's Commbadge] Sending request for communication to USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A.
[Ramirez's Commbadge] Communications channel to USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A open.
[Ramirez's Commbadge] Castillo says, "USS Phoenix."

Cristobal takes a breath, collecting his thoughts, "Excellent. I'll start with the general security and situation update. Per the message I got from the duty officer, I secured the beam-in site, provided the situation and Prime Directive protocol brief, and then Lieutenants Tilar and McAllister beamed in on Stardate: 136327.09. They were given a status update."

He speaks as if reading from a mental list. "A full audio log is attached to the sidechannel of this transmission. Just after Tilar and McAllister arrived, the host arrived. We gathered some additional information. At this time, I am turning the report over to Lieutenant Tilar for her anthropological and cultural analysis."

"I haven't yet had the opportunity to do any scans, so all of this is based on observation so far." Tilar takes a breath, taking a moment to organize her thoughts before continuing. "Everyone, regardless of species, is 'of N'vol,' though I have yet to determine exactly what that means. Stating that you are not is apparently not advisable, though I'm unclear on the consequences of that at this time. The populace says that they are Uaye; still determining what exactly that means as well, but we are expected to be subservient to The Protectorate, which we have also not yet identified. There is a chime that rings once daily where the populace seems to be expected to offer prayers to The First. I've advised that we make sure we are out of sight during that time, or find some way to mimic the rituals so as not to draw suspicion. The very little exposure that I've had so far leads me to believe that at least some of these people are in dire straits, but we've yet to determine why. I am very curious about the cause behind the food scarcity here."

She pauses for a moment, thinking before continuing. "I would like to take some preliminary scans from this space, out of sight, to see what kind of situation this is from a medical perspective. I have also discussed the food plan in further detail with Lieutenant Ramirez to make sure no harm is done to the populace."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] "Is there anything else?" Castillo asks in the broadest sense. She takes a deep breath. "More specifically, any additional evidence that would suggest the population, has or has not been exposed to warp technology?"

"Aside from the mention of the Nuvol, none that I've observed yet." Tilar shakes her head, the tone likely reflecting that. "That is something that I am going to keep looking for, but given the state of things, I think it's possible the general populace has no idea. The Protectorate, however, is a wholly different... possibly caste? And it's possible that they have more resources than they are willing to share, also for reasons unknown at this time."

Cristobal picks up the verbal baton passed by Tilar, smoothly catching the thread of conversation. "In order to minimize contamination, we intend to only use a two-person team to collect additional intelligence in the market area; Vuzze, the female that is hosting us in this place, indicated that the market here is a major trade hub. She believes it is possible for us to trade knives for money. We are not familiar with the rate of exchange however."

"As to the extent of exposure to warp technology, we need to get more information to begin to make that determination. Our trip to the market, therefore, has the following goals:"

"One, we will obtain a sample of local grain and bread so that it can be analyzed and replicated aboard Phoenix, to address Doctor Tilar's concerns."

"Two, we will trade one of our knives for money, and also determine the rate of exchange we can expect."

"Three, we will ask nuanced and general questions with the intent to get a read on the Protectorate, Uaye, N'Vol, and to determine to the extent possible how much evidence there is of warp technology contamination. Four, we will try to determine the safest overland route from here to the impulse freighter landing site based on the trade caravans that were in evidence here. Five, we will collect biological, technological, and linguistic samples if possible from the market, for later analysis."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Castillo is standing in the center of the bridge, speaking at the viewscreen with the away team members. She turns to look at Worthington as he enters, before glancing back at the console. "Please standby." Her request given with a monotone delivery. A step or two towards the nearest console is made before muting the viewscreen.

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Connection to USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A muted.

Cristobal glances over to Tilar as they wait. "Bottom of the totem pole. That's us."

Tilar chucks quietly and shrugs. "Not necessarily. We're just boots on the ground. It's harder to coordinate when there's distance and potentially missed context."

Cristobal mmms. "There's some of that, yes." It's pretty clear he thinks there's more to it, by his tone, but he doesn't elaborate.

Her brows lift slightly, questioning look on her face. "We can talk about it later, if you want." Tilar rises, moving over to the window to peer out into the street. "Have you had much time to watch the people go by? Any kinds of enforcement? Street violence?"

Cristobal shakes his head. "The window overlooks an alleyway. You can smell it from up here. Down there, on the ground, it's much worse. My take? Local drunks and indigents use it as a latrine. No one really seems to walk back there, otherwise."

"Likely," Tilar agrees with a slow nod, humming thoughtfully. "Unfortunate." She sighs heavily, frowning. "I need more data."

Cristobal motions to the silent communicator with growing impatience and irritation. "Yes."

Tilar steps away from the window, crossing the room over to him. "How much interaction have you had with our host? She seems a pleasant enough person, though desperate."

Cristobal nods. "We've spoken with her twice. Once when we bargained for the attic. Then now, to collect the other piece of bread I promised. Unfortunately, that bread is high protein, high-caloric content bread tailored for me. It only looks like local food. I burn maybe 3.5 kcals per day. So this is, obviously, not a long-term solution."

Tilar's nose wrinkles slightly at that. "Cris, that might make her sick," she warns. "It really depends how malnourished she was before you gave it to her. Hopefully we can get a better solution for that. I think sending samples back to the Phoenix is definitely the best bet." She lifts one hand, touching each finger as she lists off the to-do list. "Sell the knife to get some money. Find some food samples to send back for analysis and replication. Figure out how these people got here, which could be connected to the Nuvol, the Protectorate, or The First. Or all three. And, if we can, figure out how and where food is usually produced."

Cristobal shrugs. "I had limited tools with which to work, Vi. There was no perfect solution, and we needed to get off the street. We have a better solution pending. I would make the same decision, given what I had to work with at the time. Going forward, we have a better plan, in part thanks to you." He pauses, and again motions to the still-silent commbadge. "Them keeping us in the dark is really beginning to irritate me."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Connection to USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A reopened.

"No no, I know." Tilar lifts one hand and shakes her head. "Your options were very limited. Bread is better than some other options, honestly."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Worthington nods to Castillo. "Please do so," he says, turning to the screen. "How are things planetside?"

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Castillo rapidly taps at her console to make a transcript of the log available for Worthington to view.

Cristobal clears his throat. "Unchanged from both previous reports. Lieutenant Alue is sleeping, Lieutenant McAllister is teamed up with her. Lieutenant Tilar and myself are preparing to go into the market, as soon as their prayer period ends. And, assuming our proposed plan of action and goals aren't a problem for you all?"

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Worthington nods to the screen. "Proceed lieutenant. Exercise caution and discretion of course, and continue to report your findings. Good luck down there."

Cristobal nods. "Acknowledged, sir." There is a pause, and he asks, "Lieutenant Tilar, do you have anything to add before we close this up?"

Tilar shakes her head. "No, I have nothing to add at this time."

Cristobal says, "Very well. We'll report back after we return, Commander. Lieutenants Alue and McAllister will hold our base of operations. While we are out, I am setting our commbadges to emergency-only, to lower contamination risk."

[Ramirez's Commbadge] Castillo looks to Worthington, waiting to see if he wants the channel closed.
[Ramirez's Commbadge] Worthington nods to the screen. "Very well," he says, nodding to Castillo. "Phoenix out."
[Ramirez's Commbadge] Connection to USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A terminated.