Kiya Nemila

Kiya carefully places the keycard in a zippered pocket inside her armoured vest. Once the rest of the crew is out of sight, and even android hearing range, with a practiced motion she slides a panel to reveal a hidden access tunnel.

Smiling, she crawls in taking care to seal it up seamlessly and quietly.

It always pays to memorize blueprints, especially the Commander’s unregistered ones.

Kiya appreciates the trust her Commander has placed in her. They’ve been in tight situations before and she knows she’s earned a certain amount of autonomy and independence. All the same it’s nice to see displays of that trust in action.

Stong and graceful she moves with a quiet fluidity. Having previously run off-duty tunnel drills, she reaches the desired exit in good time in spite of one blocked route.

For a solid minute she waits straining her senses to the max. Once confident no one is in the wing, she exits the tunnel closing the panel efficiently behind her. Unhostering her weapon, she then looks through the modded scope switching the view to include heat and magnetic signatures.

Satisfied, she then touches the door relieved it feels cool. She smirks. I wouldn’t want to walk into a fire now. Relieved the keycard scanner and door works, as the door swooshes open she dive rolls diagonally landing behind an armoured crate, weapon at the ready. Clear. Good. She then turns back to the door and locks herself in.

Kiya smiles. Having organised this room herself, she was meticulous with everything being ordered and ready in case of an emergency. Oh my darlings. So many of you to choose from. She smiles.

Thinking of each crewmate’s skills and preferences, Kiya fills two large duffle bags with weapons, ammo, explosives, knives, rope, and anything else that can be modified to improve their odds for combat and wilderness survival.

Hey eyes sparkle as she pockets some thermite. This can be applied with precision and burns hotter than the sun. Maybe Cherkasova can use it to free the bay door with minimal damage.

The bags are heavy, but manageable, thanks to a combination of genetics and her morning routine.

Kiya, following her careful protocols, listens at the door and when certain the way is clear, leaves ensuring the door is securely locked behind her.

Then, back in the tunnels, Kiya slowly makes her way to the rendevous point.

By the time the rest of the crew arrives at the bay door with whatever supplies they can carry from engineering, the med-bay, and the pantry, Kiya is already resting against it looking bored.

“Where the hell have you been?” Cpl. Hawthorne asks.

She tips open one of the duffles, giving him a look. His eyes widen and he whistles long and loud.

Behind them Ander drops the portable generator to the floor with a loud thunk. Everyone turns, except Kiya, who casually slides the keycard back into the commander’s pocket unnoticed, even by him. She pats his chest where the card now rests to clue him in. He smiles.

“You–” Larisa starts at the civilian, but she’s interupted by Kiya handing her the thermite.

“Time to get work,” she says with a smile.