And the Band Typed On
And the Band Typed On
Summary: Right after Ghost in the Machine, a crew meets in Engineering to start combing through the mess. Praxis and Persey learn things.
Date: IC Date (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Ghost in the Machine (directly after CIC log)

Kharon - Engineering

Roubani has found his tea and even scrubbed most of the worst-smelling stuff off his skin, thank goodness. Now tucked back away in Engineering, in a corner far from the chaos of the cleanup and restoration going on, he sits with his steaming cup and watches the screens of several consoles as they work through the huge amount of information that they're processing from the latest mess.

Persy watches the information scroll by. "We're going to have to amputate," she notes with a sigh. "That's the only way to get rid of it. It's like the ship's got gangrene." She looks over her shoulder at Roubani. "What were you experiencing down here that you wanted my thoughts on?"

Roubani blows gently on the surface of the tea, making it ripple. He takes a cautious sip and sets it back on his knee. Too damn hot. "Had you read the full files on the first version of the virus? Specifically, its activation?"

"I was given to understand that it was introduced manually. Some Ensign shouldered his way into an access panel and uploaded the files," Persy says.

"I mean the old virus. The old version, anyway, from some time ago." Roubani glances at her profile.

Persy shakes her head, frowning. "There was an old virus?" She takes a seat nearby. "Was this present one a mutation of the old one? Have we been infected that long?"

Roubani raises an eyebrow slightly at her. Now it's his turn to look slightly surprised. "Yes, sir. I thought you and Lieutenant Praxis were aware of it." Communication, it fails. "Months ago, the one that we found first in the Vipers and then the mainframe."

"Well. That's interesting." Persy frowns, considering. "So, does anyone know why it's been relatively dormant until recently? Did we think it was cleaned out?"

Roubani is sitting at a row of computer terminals with Persy, a far distance away from the cleanup effort going on in the rest of engineering. She has coffee, he a cup of tea. "It was first discovered in the avionics systems of the Viper Mark VIIs. Then in our mainframe. It's why our main systems were rolled back and some of the major networks taken offline. Also why the Mark VIIs were downgraded to systems usually found in the Mark IIs. The old virus was designed to reside in those new software packages; it didn't affect the old ones. We did rollbacks and saved what of the virus code we could on these units." He nods to the 'clean machines' in front of them. "This new one that's cropped up appears to be related to it. It would have had to be reintroduced, as you say…that Ensign. But where the old one was very interesting was in its activation…" He shifts in his seat, ready to talk a little more.

Persy sips her coffee, resting her chin in her hand. She nods as Roubani speaks, her gaze attentive despite the blue smudges beneath her eyes.

At least his path into Engineering was lit this time. Praxis Demitros, after squaring things away up at CIC, has now come to join the little party towards the aft of the vessel. Hopefully he will be able to contribute something to this conversation however the information would also most certainly do. The tac officer eavesdrops for a little bit before actually coming with visual range. "Refresh my memory…" Knight requests, one of his eyebrows lifting slightly.

Roubani looks up as Praxis comes over, pausing to interrupt himself. "Sir." He half-stands to salute and then settles again, nodding the Lieutenant to one of the other chairs. "Lieutenant Tanner told me she hadn't been aware of the first virus we encountered, the one from some time ago. I was giving her the quick rundown on it, as it appears from preliminary analysis that the two are related."

Sipping her coffee again, Persy considers, "How does a virus hop from planes to a mainframe? From on system to another, when they're not networked? Isolated from one another?" She looks to Roubani. "You clean machines… how long have they been running clean? Are they built, insulated, cooledanything different at allfrom the infected machines?"

Praxis listens to Persy, being sure to take the chair when it is offered to him. He pulls it up and settles down, eyes lingering on the countermeasures officer. "Perhaps it was our friend who had also taken the G-4 from the weapons locker. He, being a mobile person would be able to infect the systems one by one or perhaps setting up his own network to do it." Of course, Demitros just speculates. "How again did the earlier form of this virus get activated, again?" he asks, head a little fuzzy.

"It didn't hop, sir," Roubani replies to Persy, very quietly and after a pause. "Due to the nature of the code and the very high security access necessary to have installed it as it was, we strongly suspect that it was already there when we had launched." Put that in your pipe and smoke it, son. He frowns at his tea. "The rollbacks were on the thirty-fifth day, and we've been clean since then. Until this." His dark eyes lift again and look at Praxis. "This is an issue we've been trying to figure out, sir. We found that something associated with the Raiders seemed to trigger it."

Persy nods, rubbing her right eyebrow and draining several gulps of her coffee. "I have to go check on the backups. I promised Ensign Dilbert I wouldn't be long." She looks apologetically at Roubani. "Thank you for taking the time—can we go over this more when we have the error dumps? It'll give me some time to read up on the reports you mentioned, too."

Praxis straightens up in his chair slightly when Persephone goes to leave, eyes tracking her before they move back to Roubani. "So what we're saying is that the infection was already present, but a trigger, whether it be a signal from a Raider or otherwise, 'woke' it from a dormant state?" He walked into the middle of the conversation, forgive him if he's behind.

"Sir." That's to Persy. Roubani's version of 'good night', mildly the same as his 'hi', 'how are you', and 'frak off'. He looks back at Praxis, unsmiling and nodding once. "Yes, sir, that's the layman's version." He indicates the processing computers with a slow movement of his chin. "The analyses of it all are there."

Praxis shakes his head at the computers, casting a sidelong glance at Roubani. "Well, it is imperative we understand it fully then…because there is seemingly nothing stopping this from happening again the next time we roll back the system. Do you have any speculations as to the origin of the newer, mutated virus?"

"I was rather hoping you would know, sir," Roubani says, regarding Praxis again. "I had heard a mention of an Ensign, but only heard it confirmed tonight, and with very little detail."

Praxis thins his lips, considering the ensign before deciding that it would be prudent to impart the information he does know. "Ensign Brighton was spotted behaving oddly at his station. Shifty, as Lieutenant Tanner had described him. When I did the investigation of the initial attack, I discovered that the access panel under his console had been forced open. Brighton was in a haste to get to something, for certain." He lets that sink in before continuing. "As to how Sheridan and the MP's dealt with him I do not know, but I thought he was in custody when Corporal Jarot informed me of the theft from the weapons locker."

The corners of Roubani's eyes tense slightly as he listens, lines appearing between his brows. "And is he? In custody, sir?"

Praxis maintains a steady gaze on Roubani, soon shaking his head in response. "It is unfortunate, but I have been put on a need-to-know basis regarding Ensign Brighton." The Lieutenant ponders this for a moment. "And I believe after this discussion that the time has come that we 'need to know' more."

Roubani nods, his eyes drifting off to the left to look at one of the scrolling computer screens. Granted he's not really reading it; there's just churning going on in his head that hardens his expression into that of a man twenty years older. "Understood, sir," he says, looking back at Praxis. "It will take the machines a while yet to compile all the data from the crash. Perhaps we should regroup when they're finished, and we all have fresh minds - and possibly more information - for the table."

Praxis tracks Roubani's gaze when he looks at the scrolling screens, and then his jades move right back to the man. "I apologize for my lack of insight, it seems that I have been at work much too long. The entire happening still lingers upon my mind - it did not help that I had the deck when the entire situation took place." Demitros lifts himself from the chair, a rigid salute given to the Ensign. "Once the data has compiled, do alert JG Tanner and myself, though the precedence should go to the former." A slight nod of Knight's head is made. "In the meantime, I will see what I can learn about Ensign Brighton and the case of the missing explosives." Despite the officer's claim about being exhausted, the TACCO looks exactly the same as he had when he woke up in the morning.

Roubani rises and deftly beats Praxis to first salute. It's only proper. "And I will update Captain Eos and comb this tangle into something useable," he murmurs. "I appreciate your and Lieutenant Tanner's tirelessness, sir."

Knight's lips show a minor hint of a smile when he sees the other's salute. "And I appreciate the work you had done down in Engineering this evening in containing the fire. I will return later to see how things are progressing." With all of that said, Lt. Demitros makes an about face and heads foreward along the ship, heading out of Engineering without much more of a goodbye than that.

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