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Guest Laarell

"Deciphering the Core"

Four hours with the Boganary computer core, and Laarell had learned the useful, exciting fact that Boganary liked to use a slimy, rotting root called d'tesh in their stews. Good goddesses of technology, she was ready to kill things.

 

She wasn't sure whether or not the raktajino was responsible for her shortness of patience or that she had any patience left, but she was about to go get her seventh. At first the task had seemed easy -- she'd been able to plug in the universal translator and set it parsing the data into something readable without too much trouble. That had seemed to indicate that the data was intact. Mostly, anyway.

 

But no, that would have made the Orion... far too lucky. And for the last few months or so, she'd apparently been paying back karma for something, though she wasn't sure what. Maybe it was for stealing the vampire's little suck-buddy...

 

Wait... Laarell... punished... for stealing a boyfriend? By every god, she did need more caffeine.

 

One visit to the replicator later, she returned to the console that was tied into the Bog core, resettling and recollecting her thoughts and data. She'd mostly been looking for "star charts", "map", "cartography graphics"... anything that could give them a general idea on where or how to get through the Thicket -- and give them a general sense of the area. Nada. Nihil. Zilch. Zero.

 

Then came communications logs -- which were easier to find, at least. The problem there was that they were encrypted with the kinds of fractals that had cost her quite a few points on the final exams her senior year... and that she'd hoped she'd never encounter again. So there really was a point to that torture...

 

Aha! A blink and a beep indicated the first -- and most intricate -- layer of the cipher was cracked. Only another hour, now, or two.... Laarell settled in again, cradling her mug protectively, and started scouring through the more inoffensive-looking files for stellar-cart readings. Nothing. Big surprise.

 

The Orion moved on to the individual files of the raiding squad, frowning as she looked through the immense pile she had to sort through. Good gods, this would take forever and a year...

 

"Um... hello?" A vaguely familiar face lingered in the doorway, and Laarell squinted through the darkness of the lab unilluminated by the console's light to see who had interrupted her train of thought.

 

"Can I help you?" she asked, taking another sip of the raktajino.

 

"Um..." She shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Someone on the Bridge said you needed help down here, and I didn't really have anything to do... and... Science is usually quiet." Something in her voice suggested she meant it literally, and the way she was massaging her temples indicated her point. "I'm a little... headached."

 

"Ah." Laarell tried to remember why that might be. It didn't take much imagination. She'd just gotten past what she suspected was... about the same headache herself. "Well, yes, it's quiet... go grab a seat, and we can divvy up these files." The Orion shrugged, waiting as the other woman dragged a chair noisily around her desk. "There's a hell of a lot of them, but just start looking for filepaths that might seem like something... I don't know... pertinent..."

 

"Pertinent. Right. I can do that." The younger woman stretched out her arms, cracking her knuckles loud enough to make Laarell feel sympathetic pain. "Pertinent to what?"

 

"Star charts, for one. Personal communications saved. Maybe something regarding their culture or raids... hells if I know. Use your judgment."

 

"Judgment. Roger that." Gold eyes peered intently at the monitor as the files transferred to her console, and then they narrowed as she started scrolling through the files. "How to Make a Million Ti'yu'ri in Ten Minutes a Day?" she read off.

 

"Can be skipped," Laarell answered, passing through her own list more rapidly.

 

"It looks like a book." She clicked it anyway, revealing a cover that boasted a gap-toothed, green, pointy-eared Boganary holding up purple-colored bills that resembled currency. "Must be a supposed money-making guide."

 

"We couldn't figure that out from the title. Don't click things unless they look like they'll help," Laarell directed.

 

"You said culture," her assistant answered slightly crossly, considering the image more closely. "You know, Boganary really look a lot like your people."

 

The commander's eyes widened in horror, and she stared at the yeoman. "They don't look anything like Orions!" she answered, gaping.

 

"The color's really really close. And aside from the ears..."

 

"And everything else!" Laarell huffed, glancing at the book-cover again before reaching over and exiting that particular application. "Get back to work, trainee."

 

"I am, I am," she sighed, continuing through. "I guess you don't want A Million Ways to Bribe Auntie either."

 

"No, we..." Laarell considered a moment. "Actually, glance through it and search to see if it's for a specific auntie or just a general reference."

 

A nod, and a few more taps at the console. "Let's see... no... looks more general."

 

The Orion nodded. "Well, at least we know for a fact there's more than one auntie who's fairly powerful." She looked at a few files of her own. "Ah, look... a few more localized maps. Better than nothing, though. Downloading now."

 

"Awesome!" The Xenexian beside her suddenly had the same, quiet, frowning expression, and Laarell raised her eyebrows in prompt. "Well this filefolder... it has a password!" she announced excitedly, practically bouncing in her chair. "Maybe he's their intelligence officer or something!" Laarell took that moment not to point out that the Boganary likely didn't even have designated intel officers assigned to their vessels, instead opting for a more positive note.

 

"Oh? Well, what's the name of it?"

 

"Umm... 'Lots of Stuff'. It shouldn't be too hard to hack... lemme set the password-eater on it..." The yeoman picked the appropriate program, still bouncing as it unlocked it with ease. "Yay!"

 

"Let me know if you find anything," Laarell said with a sigh.

 

The Xenexian's fervor turned to a bit of a frown. "These don't really look like star-charts or anything..."

 

"Mmhmm?" Another layer of encryption off the comm logs -- which riveted her attention more than the over-zealous yeoman's findings.

 

"I don't know. This file's called Desires in the Thicket... could that be, like, something on their raids?" Clearly excited that she'd found an explanation for the strange filename, Condacin clicked on it. And almost a full minute passed...

 

... and Teykier nearly fell out of her chair at the expression on her companion's face.

 

"Oh my god!!"

 

"Yes?" Laarell asked, trying not to utterly die laughing.

 

"There's... there's... it's... the whole folder is like this!"

 

"Well..." Laarell started, in between choked giggles, "it was passworded..."

 

"But... but..." The yeoman stared at the three Boganary on the screen, her face frozen with horror. "They're in dishabille!"

 

The Orion toyed with a strand of loose hair, getting way too much fun out of this. "That's usually how it's done, Odile," she commented dryly.

 

"But it's so wrong!"

 

"You've never seen pornography before?"

 

"Of course I have!" she answered, instantly defensive. "There's lots of it on Xenex. Lots and lots and lots."

 

"And have you watched any?"

 

A pause. "Some."

 

"Well then," Laarell continued. "You should know it's entirely healthy and natural..." She broke off when she saw the Xenexian's face, wisely choosing to exit out of the files. "Here. I have a better idea," she offered. "You babysit the de-encryptor, and I'll look through the crew's files?"

 

"That... sounds like a good idea?" the Xenexian ventured hesitantly.

 

"Good girl," Laarell snickered, switching the yeoman's view to the decoder matrix. "Good little yeoman."

Edited by Laarell

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