PNPC Lieutenant Kyle Morgan - Eyepiece

[Addison MacKenzie]

((Crashed Jem'Hadar Fighter - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III ))

The team investigating the Jem’Hadar fighter found themselves with a bit of a problem – the angle at which the ship was wedged in the ground made it so that the junctions of corridors served as large holes to have to jump over. Having reached the first that they’d need to traverse, Kyle took the liberty of making the jump first. Once he was on the other side, he reassured his comrades.

Morgan: Good news guys! Still smells like shit over here too!

Imril: Good. Something to aim for.

 

Imril stepped forward, the next to traverse the void. Sil was the final.

 

Silveira: Well, I hope there isn’t anything wider to cross.

When the other two cleared the divide and they were all reunited on the other side, something made Kyle feel like they needed to pick up the pace. Perhaps being belly-deep in a decades-old enemy ship had that effect on someone.

Morgan: Alright, I think we should move it. Which way?

Imril: The corridor we had to jump was wider than any of the others we’ve seen. Presuming it’s a central wayfare, we should be more or less underneath the command center, near some sort of way up and down the decks. 

Vitor tipped his head and looked around. Since the ship was sideways it was a little difficult to get exact bearings.

Silveira: OK then let’s get moving.

After a bit of walking, they discovered that there were no turbolifts or empty turbolift shafts that would help them access the bridge. Perhaps the Jem’Hadar didn’t need them, or the ships were constructed with them as necessary elements.

Imril: Sirs! I’ve got a stairwell over here! More remains, too. Oh, and one of those weird looking polearms if anyone’s hunting for souvenirs. I might take a dagger myself, if we find a clean one. In case I need something sharp and conductive to jam into a control panel.

 

Kyle grimaced to himself, grateful that the ship was mostly dark so no one could see the look on his face. The idea of souvenirs, particularly from a graveyard like this wreck, didn’t sit particularly well. That said, to each their own: Imril obviously felt less burdened by the idea, as he snatched up a blade on their way.

 

Silveira: Careful everyone, the ship may be dead, but it’s still dangerous.

Morgan: Good thing we brought a doctor! Seriously though, I’m surprised there aren’t more automated defenses to help protect the ship.

 

Imril: The Jem’Hadar were all the security the ship ever needed. Why let automated systems have all the fun of fighting off intruders?

Silveira: You do have a point.

Kyle tilted his head slightly – he couldn’t argue. As the stairwell ended, they jumped over another junction until finally they reached the command center door. They had to muscle it open a bit, but despite being the brain of the ship, it took surprisingly little effort to open. Vitor was the first to peek through the door.

 

When Imril illuminated the space, it proved to be just as messy as the rest of the ship. Panels were shattered beyond use, weapons haphazardly collected in the bottom part of the command center. The cramped confines provided plenty of surfaces and hand-holds to climb about the place, but even the short fall to the lower part of the room could be deadly, given the sharp weapons collected there.

 

Imril: I think I see some bones down there that might have been the Vorta. It’s a good bet that one of the eyepieces was on them when the crash happened. And there’s one of their energy rifles. If it still functions, it might do for a power source to plug into one of the control consoles. If any of them still function.

Silveira: Let me jump in first. There’s enough to hold on and get down, but please wait for me to check it out.

Morgan: Knock yourself out, Sil. I think I’m fine up here…

Imril: Response

He nodded to them and gave another look before moving. Taking a breath, Vitor grabbed the handle on the wall and slowly lowered himself down. Imril did his best to keep the light in front of where Sil was moving.

Silveira: Dammit it’s smelling even worse as we get down.

Morgan: Well now I’m really glad I decided to stay here.

Imril: Response

Vitor looked for a spot to land, but had reservations about jumping with all the sharp blades collected below. He reached for one of the support columns, but his foot slid and he nearly lost balance. Thankfully, he reacted quickly and held the handle on the side, and he was able to lower himself to the ground. Kyle covered his eyes and shook his head.

Silveira: Now that wasn’t so fun. You guys really need to get down? I see that rifle you mentioned, but I can look for the eyepiece.
Morgan: After watching you? No. I’m fine. Find the eyepiece.

Imril: response

Vitor swiped the rifle and started disassembling it as he carefully stepped around the debris. Something caught his attention – he walked toward it and tipped his head in that direction.

Silveira: I think it’s here.

Morgan: You get eyes on it?

Imril/Silveira: response

 

Kyle rubbed the back of his neck.

Morgan: What are we hoping to accomplish with it?

 

Imril/Silveira: Response

Kyle’s brow furrowed slightly. The command center looked pretty well wrecked. He couldn’t see much, but it didn’t seem like any of the consoles would be functional.

 

Morgan: And we think we’re gonna be able to do that here? Or can that eyepiece interface anywhere?

 

Imril/Silveira: Response

Tag, and TBC!

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Lieutenant Kyle Morgan
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
V239601AM0