PNPC Lieutenant Kyle Morgan - Disrupting Power
Addison MacKenzie
(( Crashed Jem'Hadar Fighter - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III ))
The
trio had located an eyepiece and seemed to gain ground on getting it to work to
identify power sources. It was a step in the right direction, but only a step –
they hadn’t found what was actually causing their interference, and the actual
usage of the device seemed to be suboptimal for Ensign Imril…
Morgan: There must still be something still active on
the ship that’s creating the interference… Sil, maybe you’d better
take over for Imril…
Silveira:
Why Doctor, too afraid to try these goggles on
Kyle shot Sil a skeptical look as Imril put up his
hands and side-stepped as to evade any potential verbal exchange between the
two lieutenants. Vitor winked at Imril as he took the eyepiece.
Morgan: Hey, I wouldn’t even know
where to start with the thing. And besides, if I go down, who’s gonna
look after the two of you? Gila’s gonna have my behind as it is!
Silveira: I
get it. Fine let me handle the spectacles
Morgan looked to Imril, then pointed at the device.
Morgan: You think you can coach him through how to use that?
Imril: It's pretty intuitive, actually.
Dumbed down, even, compared to the TR-116 scopes. It’s almost like the Founders
don’t think very highly of their servants. Who would have guessed, right? Just
act like you’re looking around without any walls in the way.
Kyle raised another skeptical eyebrow. Vitor, meanwhile, listened and nodded
along, slowly picking up the eyepiece while the engineer explained its use. On
first observation, Sil didn’t seem to experience any of the adverse effects
that plagued Imril.
Silveira: Damn… These are some weird glasses.
Imril: ::Grimacing with remembered pain:: I can think of stronger words.
Kyle shrugged as Vitor looked around blinked, trying to process what he was seeing.
Silveira: OK so, I need to look for a bright light? Something red? This is a
weird color spectrum and not easy as it looks.
Imril: The Dominion color palette seems to favor shades of purple. When the lights are on, anyway.
Morgan: I don’t think we have a shot at getting the lights on, better just shoot for what we can…
Vitor nodded and tilted his head sideways. His expression changed to indicate he was getting more comfortable with the interface. He scanned the command center.
Silveira: Well at least there isn’t any text we can’t read. ::He tipped his head again and pointed to a side wall:: There… Let’s head in that direction… I see a… Glow?
Imril: Works for me. Let’s go.
Morgan: Walk toward the light, Sil.
He wondered if they’d get the joke, or if Vitor might be too focused on what he was seeing. It seemed to pass without notice, as the tactical chief gestured to them.
Silveira: I think I might be getting the handle of these glasses. We just have to follow these corridors.
Imril and Morgan followed Sil, doing their best to keep track of the number of turns made and doors past.
Morgan: ::to Imril:: Hopefully we’re able to find our way back out of here otherwise I’d hate to think we might rot down here.
After continuing through
the winding corridors, the trio ended up in a room no larger than the average
common area of a junior officer’s quarters. In the room, a control console
occupied each of the four corners, each turned to face the user towards the single door. Like the ones in the control room, these consoles amounted to sets
of truncated cylinders, the screens set at a sharp angle. One, one of the two
set closer to the accidental floor, glowed with a soft violet light.
Imril took his turn moving along the convoluted floor toward one of the
consoles. Fortunately, there weren’t any sharp objects or bodies in the way as
there had been in the command center. When he reached the singular active console,
he made room for Kyle and Vitor to crouch and also get a look at the screen.
Morgan: What’ve we got?
Silveira: Response
Imril: I can’t read the text, but
these animated wave-form patterns look a lot like communication frequency
readouts and/or energy usage patterns. Either way, I think this is what we’re
looking for.
Morgan: Great news. Can we shut it down?
Silveira: Response
Kyle watched as Imril
examined the lower workings of the console until he found a seam. Pulling the
Jem’Hadar knife, he took off his field jacket and wrapped it around the metal,
then proceeded to jam it into the seam. With a bit of twisting and pushing, a
hinged section gave way. When the inner workings of the console were revealed,
a lavender light illuminated their faces.
Imril: There’s a single power line that’s lit up in here. The rest… I
can’t say for sure why they’re inoperative. ::Looking back to the others:: No
need to bother translating the controls. I can bypass them by plugging the
rifle’s power cores into this specific cable and dumping their power into it
all at once. Send a massive energy pulse down the line that should overload --
or overheat -- the hardware at the other end of the line. That should do to
shut the signal down. It’ll blow out this screen, too, so we’ll want to be
clear of it. Again, happy to hear other ideas.
Morgan: I’m a doctor – unless you need someone to do surgery, none of my
suggestions are helpful here. But, I wonder if we overload the console if that
might have larger, dangerous consequences we’re not considering? Like,
overloading any of the weapons that might still be here?
Silveira: Response
Imril took a moment
to think about the question.
Imril: No, I don't believe this
stunt will affect the ship’s weapons at all. My estimation is that one of those
dead lines routes to those. It’s possible, though, that when I kill the
hardware that we can affect, we could lose functionality of the
eyepiece. There’s just no telling how interconnected it is with the sensors or
the emitter.
Morgan: One way to find out, I guess.
Silveira/Imril: Response
Kyle shrugged.
Morgan: I think we don’t have much of a choice, and we definitely can’t
afford to spend more time musing over the consequences. Go ahead, Imril.
Morgan watched as the engineer proceeded to further disassemble the rifle until
the component housing the power core was accessible. He wasn’t sure how, but
Imril somehow managed to tie the rifle’s power cell into the line that was
already distributing power into the rest of the ship. When the connection had
been established, several sparks flew from the console and the lavender light
that had washed over their faces suddenly went dark.
Morgan: Umm, did it work?
Silveira/Imril: Response
Kyle shrugged.
Morgan: Well, let’s get out of here, then. It smells like shit and I’m
sure Sadar’s going to be really mad once she finds out we went in without her permission.
Silveira/Imril: Response
Tag, and TBC!
---
Lieutenant Kyle Morgan
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
V239601AM0