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[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

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[littletonoidea]

On deck is always a safe guarantee, with the rate the comms officer burns through cigarettes. He's got one in-mouth at the moment as he sits curled on a deck chair, headphones on and working with an atypical, acute focus on his comms tablet.

He almost doesn't notice Kepler until the man is almost upon him; and when he does, his response is to jump, violently and to his feet, salute as he stammers out "Kep-- Colonel, hey, how's- y'know, things!" realise the salute looks stupid and tries to pretend that motion was to push his headset back down around his neck, as he tries to go for a more casual pose. "Wh-what can I do you for?"

[questionsonly]

Kepler isn’t surprised at the jump ones but he is surprised at the initial focus. Which is why he raises an eyebrow.

“Now I’m wondering if you got one two: a message. Sounds like the Authority. Which is… bad. But I’m wondering if you can get anything else from it.”

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel's admittedly slightly constipated look of forcibly casual drops immediately, to look- slightly horrified, actually.

"Oh-- God, is everyone picking that up?"

But he frowns, then, and adds, "Wait, uh-- the Authority?"

[questionsonly]

Kepler’s expression doesn’t darken, but his eyebrows bounce just once.

“I just got one message. But so did Jacobi. When did yours come in?”

[littletonoidea]

"I, um-- a- a couple hours ago?" But this is just work, right, Kepler wants his sitrep, so he continues, only slightly less nervously, "I've been trying to trace it for hours but the message was too short for me to begin to get a lock, even with Tiny Hera's help." He taps his headphones pointedly. "I couldn't even identify which channel it might be on, frankly it could be all of them at the same time."

[questionsonly]

There’s a long pause.

“Channels? What channels?”

[littletonoidea]

"I- what?"

Eiffel is not good at schooling his expression.

"Come on, colonel, I'm a communications officer. I can find channels on a toaster."

[questionsonly]

And that just makes him settle his gaze firmly on Eiffel.

“You want to try that again, Eiffel?”

He’s not angry… yet.

“A Time Lord can’t change channels on our communicators, Eiffel. So. Do you. Want to. Try that. Again?”

[littletonoidea]

Immediately Eiffel squirms, under that focus on himself, and his gaze flicks away for a second.

"Can we-- double back real quick to what the Authority is so I know how badly I gotta plead the Fifth here?"

[questionsonly]

He doesn’t look happy about it… but after a quick ‘harumph’, he’ll acquiesce. Thin ice, Eiffel.

“The Admiral is… something of a fugitive. Not because he did anything bad: because he takes on riskier cases, riskier wardens and riskier inmates. The Authority is his employer-“

He pauses.

“The Admiral is you, Minkowski, Hera. The Authority is…Cutter.”

He breathes in and refocuses.

“So. Tell me what you don’t want to tell me. Now.”

[littletonoidea]

Oh he fucked up, didn't he?

He takes a long breath, to brace himself for it, but even then his voice strangles towards a nervous high pitch at the end.

"Soooo, uh... what if- someone, hypothetically, built a- a bargain-bin deep space radio receiver in the Engine room...?"

[questionsonly]

Oh.

Oh.

…he can’t help the low, dog-like growl at the bottom of his chest, that leaves no question about how. pissed. off Colonel Warren Kepler is.

“You…what?”

[littletonoidea]

That growl taps something primal in Eiffel's brain and he jolts backwards, stumbling directly into the deck chair so hard that it scoots back a few inches as he lands flat on his ass on it, his tablet skidding out of his hand and off the edge of the chair.

"J-just the receiver! It can't actually transmit, w-with the way we keep jumping around I didn't think anything could trace it either-!"

[questionsonly]

Kepler doesn’t move. Because stalking right now? Bad. Very bad. Instead, he gets the growl under control and balls his fists.

“Eiffel. Are you telling me. After everything that happened. After everything that your-“

He snarls out but stays put-

“After everything, what possessed you to do that? Even without knowing about the Authority, what happens if the Listeners find this place, the people here? What happens to all these people then?”

[littletonoidea]

"What everything?" He manages to get a defensive tone in there. "I've only talked to those creeps once when they gave the Wolf its fancy blue collar! I don't know what they're gonna do, remember?"

That whole thing where he hasn't met SI-5 back home yet, Kepler? Still relevant.

[questionsonly]

The growl that comes out of him turns into words but the beastial noise definitely contains an immediate ‘shut the fuck up’ before they do.

“The fact that the two people you’ve met here died, that our third died, that Cutter wanted to deal with them- that doesn’t make you think twice before doing something like that?” He does step forward now. “It didn’t make you think of asking before this little project of yours?”

He steps forward again.

“Did a single goddamn thought go through that furry little head of yours before you did exactly what got you in heaps of trouble the last time?!”

[littletonoidea]

The snarling makes him shut up, but Kepler moving towards him makes him scramble backwards on the chair, nearly falling off the other side.

"I-- I-I wasn't transmitting, I wasn't phoning home! It was just- sifting through noise, seeing what was there!"

[questionsonly]

“And a communications officer didn’t think that anything you’d find would then, potentially, be able to find you?”

His arm gestures out to the rest of the ship.

“When you are a warden? When you’re responsible for the inmates here?” He clenches his fists tight in frustration in front of him.

“We talked about this! You have responsibilities. You can’t ‘just’ do things like this!”

[littletonoidea]

His eyes flick quickly between Kepler's fists and his thunderous expression.

"Alright, colonel, understood. I can-- I-I'll fix it, pronto."

He knows he screwed up, but if he destroys the antenna they'll lose the lock, right, so it's fine, he hasn't completely irredeemably screwed the pooch. Right?

"Resonance frequency complete." Eiffel jumps and turns to his device at the unexpected voice. "Unauthorized vessel remains in operation. Manifold locus detection underway."

[questionsonly]

Oh, Kepler heard it. It’s what he heard earlier, which is the other reason why he’s been angrier. His lips press tight.

“You were saying?”

[littletonoidea]

"I'm gonna go dismantle-- destroy the homing beacon before any other Justice Department notices come through to hold onto our butts so we're clear for warp."

[questionsonly]

“‘Resonance frequency complete,’” he repeats, teeth not gritted… but only barely.

“Get it done. Yesterday. But the damage? Clearly already done. I?” A breath out, “am going to put out an announcement. We need to prepare. All of us.”

He steps a little closer.

“But I swear to God, Eiffel. If I lose my brother? If I end up dead? If Jacobi. ends up dead?” Another step. “If I? lose my chance. to save Ulla? Or Maxwell?”

He is very close now.

“There is no power in this? Or any universe that will save you from me. Do you. understand, Officer Eiffel?”

[littletonoidea]

He staggers back to his feet as Warren moves closer, but the chair doesn't shove back as far as he likes so the gap is very much smaller than he was hoping; especially when Kepler moves closer and every hair on the back of Eiffel's neck is on end with the sheer primal terror that he is going to get his throat ripped out.

The only reason he hasn't dropped eye contact since he stood up is because he's sure that'll happen if he does.

"Sir, yes sir." There's nothing even remotely within the realm of defensive or anxious in his tone now; he was given an order, and a threat, and he's not so stupid that he's going to give Kepler, right here and now, any damn cheek.

[questionsonly]

Warren breathes in s l o w , shuddering a little, and then, just as slow, he steps back.

He nods.

”You have your orders. Report back when it’s done.”

A sigh… and all the rage drains out of him. He runs a hand through his hair and turns around, clearly at a loss. He needs to get his shit together and start things rolling. He scrubs at his face a few times, stops, smooths down his hair, and finally looks back to Eiffel.

“You’ve gotta do better than this, Doug. You’ve really… gotta do better. If not for yourself? Then for everyone quite literally in the same boat as you.”

He just… shakes his head, then? And he’s going to walk.

Away. Off.

He has work to do.