These were positioned such that, in complement with the overhead lighting (set to maximum brightness) the area was wholly illuminated, each person barely casting any shadow. Also on site was a portable generator, to which were hooked up several standing lamps of nearly the same intensity as their cousins on the floor. On the ground was a very large high-intensity arc lamp bulb, with three others in their packaging nearby. Standing by were backup technicians in the event that Swinburne was unable to complete the task appointed him. A real live technician was required for this task usually, lighting fixtures could be replaced from the back or sides, but SCP-017's containment cell was bordered on multiple sides by other SCP objects whose containment procedures left no available space for even a crawl-area. What utter irony it would be, for one containment breach to occur because the efforts of preventing a breach interfered with another object's containment! It was for this reason that Response Team Echo operated with optimum efficiency, maintaining the least presence necessary to complete their duties.Īt present, Maintenance Technician Swinburne was in the process of suiting up, pulling a reflective bodysuit up his torso. Although it was essential to secure the area in the event of a containment breach, of equal importance was the proper containment of other objects in the vicinity. Several researchers and staff passed through, one swiping her card on a door's reader and going into a cell with a trolley filled with meat. Armed guards kept watch at the entrances and exits to the hall, as well as by the doors of other containment cells. A red warning light spun overhead, letting any and all personnel know that this area was on high alert. In a hall of Containment Wing Beta, Response Team Echo began setting up to deal with the crisis in Cell-017. Palmer prayed that the Response Team would be quick. Repeat, THREATCON in Containment Wing Beta has been set to Omega. All non-essential personnel please evacuate the area. THREATCON in Containment Wing Beta has been set to Omega. Over the facility's loudspeakers, a klaxon sounded and an automated voice spoke a message. He hit the button to put Wing Beta on THREATCON Omega and entered his access code to arm Protocol 305-Utah. Palmer only hoped that his work would be worth it. Alright, set THREATCON in Wing Beta to Omega and standby to initiate both lockdown and Protocol 305-Utah if necessary. Sanders' voice sounded slightly shaky as well. "Uh, sir, we have a system malfunction in Containment Wing Beta, Cell zero-one-seven. ![]() Palmer's voice shook as he spoke into the intercom. When the line connected, he was greeted with a tired voice. Palmer wasted no time in contacting his supervisor. What Threat-Grade Alpha meant was that a system malfunction posed a real and present threat to the containment of an SCP-object, and that breach of said containment itself posed a significant threat to the facility or its personnel. Palmer wasn't used to such a high degree of danger. His reassignment to Area-12 had been a necessity, after an incident at Area-12 left several personnel…unable to continue in their duties. Prior to being stationed at Area-12, Palmer had worked as a Senior Technician at Sector-28, a low-threat containment facility on Vancouver Island. Area-12 had multiple such entities contained within it, but this was the first time he had seen a malfunction trigger an Alpha threat-grade. Those were the dangerous objects, the Alpha-priority entities. LOCATION: CONTAINMENT WING BETA, CELL 017 When prompted, additional data appeared on the screen: According to the data, a lighting unit had failed in a containment cell. ![]() Palmer looked up from the book and squinted at the screen. He had just finished the first dialogue between The Lord and Mephistopheles when a red light began blinking on one of the monitors. And being awake and doing a bit of light reading was better than being asleep and totally unobservant. But hell, it helped keep the eyes open better than the standard-issue caffeine pills could. He knew reading on the job was highly improper, especially when such dangerous objects were under watch. That is, when Palmer could sneak in a page or two. It had been boring, certainly, but Goethe's Faust helped to alleviate the doldrum of it all. ![]() The CCTV feeds showed contained SCP-objects behaving nominally, the audio feeds brought the sounds of late-night researchers soldiering on, and the monitors' data showed that all systems were functioning normally. So far, the past few hours had been relatively uneventful. A shift spent in Monitoring Station Delta of Foundation Area-12, a shift that consisted of keeping watch over CCTV and audio feeds, checking monitors to ensure functional operation of vital systems, and occasionally serving as tech support for hapless researchers. It was 0520, only 40 minutes until the end of his 6-hour shift.
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