Lt. Silveira: Dead wreck.
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btv.abreu
Apr 16, 2025, 5:35:11 PM4/16/25
to USS Artemis-A – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Outside Water Treatment Plant - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III))
Increasing the push Vitor began to feel his muscles straining. He knew Jem’Hadar were strong. He had fought… Two… One… At least one, anyway forcing his mind to remember that particular incident was not important now.
Gritting he pushed his muscles further, and as they cracked the hatch open he lost balance. His hands slipped, making him lose balance, but with feline reflexes he rolled, landing on his shoulder.
It hurt as he hit the ground and he grumbled. Last time he fell down was so much better, and less painful.
Silveira: Son of a witch…
Imril: Vitor!
Morgan: You okay, Sil?
He sat down and shook his head, as he moved his arm around, rubbing his shoulder.
Silveira: I am OK, did we get it open?
Kyle turned and Vitor began to stand up.
Morgan: Looks like it. Imril, give me a hand and help me lift this the rest of the way.
Imril: On it.
Now up, with Kyle and Imril were securing the hatch, he kept rubbing his shoulder. It hurt, but he had felt worse, and he would ask Sada, or Kyle, to check it out on their way back.
If Nan knew he got hurt she would worry and he didn’t want to worry his girlfriend over nothing serious.
Morgan: Hey Sil, take that other pipe we got and shove it in here so we can prop it open!
Vitor stepped quickly to pick up the pipe as he joined them
Silveira: Got it.
Vitor set up the pipe into the opening, wiggling it until he felt it was secure enough.
When he was satisfied, Kyle stood up and wiped his dusty hands on the front of his tunic.
Morgan: Last one in’s a rotten egg!
Without waiting for them he slid feet-first into the opening.
Imril: ::rushing forward:: Wait! There could be--
Vitor shook his head and shrugged to Imril.
Imril: ::softly:: Traps.
They shrugged back at him.
Silveira: We better join the Doc before he gets himself in trouble.
He rubbed his shoulder one last time, and mimicked Kyle, sliding inside the wreck
((Crashed Jem'Hadar Fighter - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III ))
Vitor landed loudly and the first thing that struck him was the darkness, followed by the horrible stench. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
Morgan: ::flatly:: It smells like shit in here.
Imril had the good sense to bring a wrist light, and he waved it around. He stopped in what looked like a pile of… Dirty clothes?
Vitor stepped over, barely breathing and looked at it. He then looked up and down, realizing they were actually walking on the side of the corridor. The ship was turned sideways.
And the “dirty clothes” were the remains of a Jem’Hadar.
Silveira: Well, he’s dead Kyle…
He shrugged it off.
Morgan: Well, now what?
Imril: We need to get our eyes on the system that’s glitching everyone’s gear. We came in near the nacelle, so we’re in the front half of the ship. The ‘skinny’ part in the middle is a bottleneck that isolates the back half from the front. The command center will be just ahead of that divider and up -- er, sideways -- a few decks. Engineering is in the back half. The emitter we need to turn off could be in either.
Vitor looked in those directions, his gut feeling said that they should go to the command center first.
Silveira: How will that help?
Morgan: Response
Imril: Maybe we can get the ship to tell us where the emitter is? If the interference signal really is meant to keep us from hacking into the eyepiece feed, then it might mean one of the eyepieces is active. Maybe it got knocked around, re-activated somehow, by whatever tunneling or demolitions work that exposed the wing.
Vitor pondered. Imril’s explanations made all the sense. He looked between Kyle and Imril as he spoke.
Silveira: I think we should start in the Command Center. We can figure it out when we get there.
Morgan: Response
Imril: Unfortunately, our universal translators will be just as fragged as everything else. But securing the eyepieces is a start-point, at least. Unless either of you have other ideas?
Vitor winced and dropped his head back. He was so used to relying on their available technology he forgot about that.
Silveira: Frack… I forgot about that…
Morgan/Imril: Response
Vitor shrugged and began walking down… Well, forward… Or… Sideways…
He just walked straight and ignored any proper localization.
Silveira: We will improvise when we get there. Back in the day they didn’t have UT and managed to make it happen, right?
Morgan/Imril: Response
Vitor nodded and took point, as Imril lightened up the way. He should have also thought of bringing some light like Imril did. As they moved deeper they came across another pile of… Something. But these look differently than the Jem'Hadar armor they encountered before.
Vitor almost joked, saying “That one’s also dead Kyle”, but he narrowed his eyes when they reached a crossing in the corridor. And since the ship was sideways they would have to jump to get to the other side.
Silveira: Well, time to jump. Or will we go down and back up again?
Morgan/Imril: Response
TAGs/TBC
Lt. Vitor S. Silveira
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Artemis-A, NCC-81287
O238907VS0
Increasing the push Vitor began to feel his muscles straining. He knew Jem’Hadar were strong. He had fought… Two… One… At least one, anyway forcing his mind to remember that particular incident was not important now.
Gritting he pushed his muscles further, and as they cracked the hatch open he lost balance. His hands slipped, making him lose balance, but with feline reflexes he rolled, landing on his shoulder.
It hurt as he hit the ground and he grumbled. Last time he fell down was so much better, and less painful.
Silveira: Son of a witch…
Imril: Vitor!
Morgan: You okay, Sil?
He sat down and shook his head, as he moved his arm around, rubbing his shoulder.
Silveira: I am OK, did we get it open?
Kyle turned and Vitor began to stand up.
Morgan: Looks like it. Imril, give me a hand and help me lift this the rest of the way.
Imril: On it.
Now up, with Kyle and Imril were securing the hatch, he kept rubbing his shoulder. It hurt, but he had felt worse, and he would ask Sada, or Kyle, to check it out on their way back.
If Nan knew he got hurt she would worry and he didn’t want to worry his girlfriend over nothing serious.
Morgan: Hey Sil, take that other pipe we got and shove it in here so we can prop it open!
Vitor stepped quickly to pick up the pipe as he joined them
Silveira: Got it.
Vitor set up the pipe into the opening, wiggling it until he felt it was secure enough.
When he was satisfied, Kyle stood up and wiped his dusty hands on the front of his tunic.
Morgan: Last one in’s a rotten egg!
Without waiting for them he slid feet-first into the opening.
Imril: ::rushing forward:: Wait! There could be--
Vitor shook his head and shrugged to Imril.
Imril: ::softly:: Traps.
They shrugged back at him.
Silveira: We better join the Doc before he gets himself in trouble.
He rubbed his shoulder one last time, and mimicked Kyle, sliding inside the wreck
((Crashed Jem'Hadar Fighter - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III ))
Vitor landed loudly and the first thing that struck him was the darkness, followed by the horrible stench. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
Morgan: ::flatly:: It smells like shit in here.
Imril had the good sense to bring a wrist light, and he waved it around. He stopped in what looked like a pile of… Dirty clothes?
Vitor stepped over, barely breathing and looked at it. He then looked up and down, realizing they were actually walking on the side of the corridor. The ship was turned sideways.
And the “dirty clothes” were the remains of a Jem’Hadar.
Silveira: Well, he’s dead Kyle…
He shrugged it off.
Morgan: Well, now what?
Imril: We need to get our eyes on the system that’s glitching everyone’s gear. We came in near the nacelle, so we’re in the front half of the ship. The ‘skinny’ part in the middle is a bottleneck that isolates the back half from the front. The command center will be just ahead of that divider and up -- er, sideways -- a few decks. Engineering is in the back half. The emitter we need to turn off could be in either.
Vitor looked in those directions, his gut feeling said that they should go to the command center first.
Silveira: How will that help?
Morgan: Response
Imril: Maybe we can get the ship to tell us where the emitter is? If the interference signal really is meant to keep us from hacking into the eyepiece feed, then it might mean one of the eyepieces is active. Maybe it got knocked around, re-activated somehow, by whatever tunneling or demolitions work that exposed the wing.
Vitor pondered. Imril’s explanations made all the sense. He looked between Kyle and Imril as he spoke.
Silveira: I think we should start in the Command Center. We can figure it out when we get there.
Morgan: Response
Imril: Unfortunately, our universal translators will be just as fragged as everything else. But securing the eyepieces is a start-point, at least. Unless either of you have other ideas?
Vitor winced and dropped his head back. He was so used to relying on their available technology he forgot about that.
Silveira: Frack… I forgot about that…
Morgan/Imril: Response
Vitor shrugged and began walking down… Well, forward… Or… Sideways…
He just walked straight and ignored any proper localization.
Silveira: We will improvise when we get there. Back in the day they didn’t have UT and managed to make it happen, right?
Morgan/Imril: Response
Vitor nodded and took point, as Imril lightened up the way. He should have also thought of bringing some light like Imril did. As they moved deeper they came across another pile of… Something. But these look differently than the Jem'Hadar armor they encountered before.
Vitor almost joked, saying “That one’s also dead Kyle”, but he narrowed his eyes when they reached a crossing in the corridor. And since the ship was sideways they would have to jump to get to the other side.
Silveira: Well, time to jump. Or will we go down and back up again?
Morgan/Imril: Response
TAGs/TBC
Lt. Vitor S. Silveira
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Artemis-A, NCC-81287
O238907VS0
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