Sejah Meravir's page

Bharek seems about to deny Sejah's request when Elan speaks up. He scowls from behind his faceplate, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Fine, but go quickly. We will want their information while we are still on the ship. There are extra vac suits in the transport if need be." He turns to the two survivors, "I'm sure you're ready to be off this wreck anyway."

Sejah slings her plasma rifle across the webbing on her back again and heads off as quickly as one can in zero gravity, back down the elevator shaft toward the transport.

A momentary gust of air, barely half a second long, indicated her egress.

"If you wish, Elan, but we're going to have to suit back up eventually. And breathing the ambient air in here is not apt to be a...pleasant experience."

Sejah settles her stance and drops the hot-death end of her plasma rifle to point at the floor, finally, turning to Tellek. "Are there any spare vac-suits on this level? We could just evacuate you back to the transport and take care of the interviews there."

The sudden shift in treatment was striking. Gone was the aggressive impassiveness of a moment before, replaced with what one expected to see out of a Paladin of SOLAR - compassion - in the blink of an eye.

Tellek glares at Sejah. He, slowly, draws his gun and grips the slide, pulling it back until the bullet pops out the back of the gun. He holds the slug up, then flicks it out into the elevator shaft. "Happy?" He slides the gun back into it's holster.

Sejah turns to regard Bharek, letting the violent end of her plasma rifle fall to point at the ground in front of her. The action occurs with a slowness that she was clearly not entirely comfortable with in the low gravity. Her thumb works a catch near the forward grip of the weapon and a low, descending hum fills the air as it powers down.

"Orders, sir?" she asks.

"If you don't intend to kill me, then there's no reason to point a gun at me, then, is there?"

Sejah shrugs at this. "I never said I didn't. You're being evasive and refusing to completely cooperate with lawful authority."

"Oh. Good." Everyone loves the ISPD. "And will you point that gun somewhere else? I'd prefer to not get turned into a cloud of glowing vapor just because your finger itched."

"If I meant to vaporize you, I would, merc," she said disdainfully. "As I recall, you haven't completely complied with the order to disarm yourself."

Tellek continues, "I was a passenger...of sorts. I was hired on as a mercenary. A sharpshooter. I wasn't given access to anything."

"You're one of the mercenaries headed to Kirinth, then. Good. Your mission is still in place - you'll be accompanying us pending your security clearance aboard the Negotiator, and Lieutenant Jorgenson's approval."

"Be careful with those bodies. They're getting ripe. I can't really smell them anymore, myself, but judging by how little I can smell or taste at this point, they must be pretty bad."

"The air is starting to reflect a concentration of pathogens on our monitors, but it isn't too bad. Your ship's crew must have been thorough with their bioscans before you were let on. The environment is surprisingly sterile."

Sejah delivered these statements congenially enough, considering she was still staring down the length of her gently blue-glowing plasma rifle at Tellek, sharp-eyed and disciplined.

Sejah was last out of the shuttle, cinching the straps of her weapon harness tight over her torso. She stepped past Bharek as he activated the small, egg-shaped device and sealed the chamber against external space, her face hard and all-business behind the clear, flexible plasteel mask. The rebreather system quietly chuffed as she looked over the small team. Looking down the shaft-turned-corridor, she listened to the others check in, then nodded. There was no need to confirm what they could all already see - the place was safe.

Her arm reached to the small of her back and, with a heavy, mechanical clack, freed her plasma rifle from it's webbing. With short, efficient moves, she primed the minicell and her face and upper body were illuminated with the soft blue glow of the digital battery readout. In any other conditions there would have been an audible chirp as the powercell tested up to full power. Here, the first sound she made was the communicator's quiet pop as she transmitted, "Ready. Let's go."

She heard Bharek's command for Larimore to open the door, and trained the rifle at a point just ahead of the tech-priest, moving along the outside wall of the shaft from the doors they moved toward, covering him at every step.