Lt. Cmd. Silveira: Not the Olympic Flame, but hopefully it will do…
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btv.abreu
Jan 13, 2026, 5:10:50 PM (2 days ago) Jan 13
to USS Artemis-A – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Somewhere Between The Edge of the Forest and the Mouth of the Gorge - Callis I))
Separating temporarily from Munro and Jaran, Vitor and Imril went close to the fire so they could bring some to their improvised shelter.
Vitor didn’t realize they were so close. His eyes were burning, both from the storm and smoke. There was a big log, or was it several, and something else… Fruits? Seed?
Pine cones, they looked exactly like pine cones in a forest fire.
And acted like them as they popped louder.
Imril: ::Hiss of pain!::
Vitor turned to Imril and stepped closer, something must have hit him
Silveira: IMRIL…
Imril: ::ducking for cover:: I’m fine! How do we get to the branch in one piece?
Vitor joined Imril as another alien pine cone popped in their direction.
Silveira: I would say quickly. :: Vitor looked for the logs they could try and carry.:: Give me the hatchet. I… ::he looked around:: Wait…
Imril peeked over their cover as Vitor’s eyes were burning and he resisted the urge to rub them. Giving a quick look he turned to Imril.
Silveira: Let’s get a swing on that bigger log, see if we can tear it in a few pieces. ::he pulled down his sleeves.:: I will swing a few times with the hatchet and you stay behind me. Then we pick up as many as we can, at least two torches ::he smiled:: Not calling you short or anything.
Imril: On Ferenginar, people looked up to me. It was nice.
It’s been decades since Vitor effectively did some logging. If that was the right word. Was he already at the academy when that happened?
He didn’t remember. He did know his grandfather was always disappointed with his wood cutting skills, but for now he wanted to recall the technique, and besides it was more a question of getting a few burning logs, not proper firewood.
Vitor picked up the hatchet and took a deep breath. He tipped his head at Imril.
Silveira: If you have a better plan I am all ears.
Imril: Nope. Running in and hoping for the best was pretty much my plan, too.
Another explosive alien pine cones, as if to cue Imril’s words. Vitor nodded and smiled at him, holding the grip of the hatchet.
Imril: On your order, Sir.
Vitor pulled up the top to cover his nose and mouth. His voice was muffled but confident.
Silveira: Let’s get to it.
Vitor quickly ran to the bigger log and gave it a wide chop. To his surprise, the little hatchet actually cut pretty nicely. Imril started picking up others as the pine cones kept flying around.
Letting the adrenaline rush guide him, Vitor chopped down the log in three more blows. It was still a little big but maybe they could both carry it.
Then he turned to Imril, looking at his “loot”. Again Imril had proven himself, by having a whole bunch of twigs, branches and wood. Vitor quickly rethinked his strategy.
Silveira: Keep collecting those, I am going to handle the bigger ones and cut them so I can carry…
Vitor turned to the big wood, ignoring the heat, smoke and cold. Hatching down, like there was no tomorrow he managed to get two thick but long logs, still burning. He nodded to Imril and holding them at a safer distance, so he wouldn’t get burn he tipped his head.
Silveira: That’s enough, let’s move.
Vitor thought of the old Olympic Torch, as they made their way to the other.
But these were going to be the means to their survival. Not just a symbol.
After some time they returned to the shelter where Munro and Jaran were in. Vitor’s back and muscles were hurting, and with the adrenaline gone he was feeling tired. And weak.
Imril: Permission to come aboard?
Vitor simply nodded, offering them a tired grin.
Munro/Jaran: Response
Vitor set down the burning log, and with the other’s assistance started working on making a durable camp fire.
Imril: Is there anything in the packs that can be used to collect rain water? Now that we’re out of the storm, we should take advantage of it. We'd best filter it before we use it, though. I don’t trust purple clouds. There are plenty of non-yellow stones outside to make a stone filter from.
Vitor shrugged and kept working on the improvised fire. It was feeling warm and comfortable.
Silveira: If we get something to hold it that is fireproof we can boil the water.
Munro/Jaran/Imril: Response
Finally setting down the last twigs in place, with a nice stock on the side, Vitor sat in front of the fire and closed his eyes as he raised his hands
Silveira: This feels so good.
Munro/Jaran/Imril: Response
To Vitor the voices of the others were like fading as he stretched and leaned sideways, as if he was sitting in a comfortable chaise long.
Silveira: I am sorry… ::he yawned:: I didn’t understood… But someone better take the first watch, I am feeling so sleepy…
Munro/Jaran/Imril: Response
TAGs/TBC
Lt. Cmd. Vitor S. Silveira
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Artemis-A, NCC-81287
O238907VS0
Separating temporarily from Munro and Jaran, Vitor and Imril went close to the fire so they could bring some to their improvised shelter.
Vitor didn’t realize they were so close. His eyes were burning, both from the storm and smoke. There was a big log, or was it several, and something else… Fruits? Seed?
Pine cones, they looked exactly like pine cones in a forest fire.
And acted like them as they popped louder.
Imril: ::Hiss of pain!::
Vitor turned to Imril and stepped closer, something must have hit him
Silveira: IMRIL…
Imril: ::ducking for cover:: I’m fine! How do we get to the branch in one piece?
Vitor joined Imril as another alien pine cone popped in their direction.
Silveira: I would say quickly. :: Vitor looked for the logs they could try and carry.:: Give me the hatchet. I… ::he looked around:: Wait…
Imril peeked over their cover as Vitor’s eyes were burning and he resisted the urge to rub them. Giving a quick look he turned to Imril.
Silveira: Let’s get a swing on that bigger log, see if we can tear it in a few pieces. ::he pulled down his sleeves.:: I will swing a few times with the hatchet and you stay behind me. Then we pick up as many as we can, at least two torches ::he smiled:: Not calling you short or anything.
Imril: On Ferenginar, people looked up to me. It was nice.
It’s been decades since Vitor effectively did some logging. If that was the right word. Was he already at the academy when that happened?
He didn’t remember. He did know his grandfather was always disappointed with his wood cutting skills, but for now he wanted to recall the technique, and besides it was more a question of getting a few burning logs, not proper firewood.
Vitor picked up the hatchet and took a deep breath. He tipped his head at Imril.
Silveira: If you have a better plan I am all ears.
Imril: Nope. Running in and hoping for the best was pretty much my plan, too.
Another explosive alien pine cones, as if to cue Imril’s words. Vitor nodded and smiled at him, holding the grip of the hatchet.
Imril: On your order, Sir.
Vitor pulled up the top to cover his nose and mouth. His voice was muffled but confident.
Silveira: Let’s get to it.
Vitor quickly ran to the bigger log and gave it a wide chop. To his surprise, the little hatchet actually cut pretty nicely. Imril started picking up others as the pine cones kept flying around.
Letting the adrenaline rush guide him, Vitor chopped down the log in three more blows. It was still a little big but maybe they could both carry it.
Then he turned to Imril, looking at his “loot”. Again Imril had proven himself, by having a whole bunch of twigs, branches and wood. Vitor quickly rethinked his strategy.
Silveira: Keep collecting those, I am going to handle the bigger ones and cut them so I can carry…
Vitor turned to the big wood, ignoring the heat, smoke and cold. Hatching down, like there was no tomorrow he managed to get two thick but long logs, still burning. He nodded to Imril and holding them at a safer distance, so he wouldn’t get burn he tipped his head.
Silveira: That’s enough, let’s move.
Vitor thought of the old Olympic Torch, as they made their way to the other.
But these were going to be the means to their survival. Not just a symbol.
After some time they returned to the shelter where Munro and Jaran were in. Vitor’s back and muscles were hurting, and with the adrenaline gone he was feeling tired. And weak.
Imril: Permission to come aboard?
Vitor simply nodded, offering them a tired grin.
Munro/Jaran: Response
Vitor set down the burning log, and with the other’s assistance started working on making a durable camp fire.
Imril: Is there anything in the packs that can be used to collect rain water? Now that we’re out of the storm, we should take advantage of it. We'd best filter it before we use it, though. I don’t trust purple clouds. There are plenty of non-yellow stones outside to make a stone filter from.
Vitor shrugged and kept working on the improvised fire. It was feeling warm and comfortable.
Silveira: If we get something to hold it that is fireproof we can boil the water.
Munro/Jaran/Imril: Response
Finally setting down the last twigs in place, with a nice stock on the side, Vitor sat in front of the fire and closed his eyes as he raised his hands
Silveira: This feels so good.
Munro/Jaran/Imril: Response
To Vitor the voices of the others were like fading as he stretched and leaned sideways, as if he was sitting in a comfortable chaise long.
Silveira: I am sorry… ::he yawned:: I didn’t understood… But someone better take the first watch, I am feeling so sleepy…
Munro/Jaran/Imril: Response
TAGs/TBC
Lt. Cmd. Vitor S. Silveira
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Artemis-A, NCC-81287
O238907VS0
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