Ensign Imril - Mischief Managed
Chris Taylor
((Crashed Jem'Hadar Fighter - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III ))
Imril had presented their facts and suggestions. Once more, an hypothesis awaited testing.
Morgan: One way to find out, I guess.
Vitor nodded.
Silveira: I say punch it.
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.
Imril: Aye, Sirs.
Imril nodded and got to work. The engineer spared the other two a walk through a technobabble dictionary and disassembled the rifle. Ripping out as much of its power cable and such to make the necessary links. The innards of their bricked padd did well enough to form a simple logic gate that would initiate the energy transfer in a controlled manner. Lastly, Imril unspooled two wires from the padd and set them atop the console, insulated from the cylinder’s metal by their jacket. The live ends separated by a few centimeters.
Imril shooed everyone clear of the console, and tossed the dagger atop the two wires. Completing the circuit. An instant later, several sparks flew from the console and the lavender light that had washed over their faces suddenly went dark.
Morgan: Umm, did it work?
Vitor was about to look back at Imril and Kyle when the eyepiece glowed and then slowly dimed, losing all power. He took it off and checked it, by waving it around.
Silveira: I guess so, the glasses are dead.
A distant rumble, echoed through the hole in the corridor, told them all that something had happened.
Imri raised their tricorder. The screen was still a blanket of snow.
Imril: If it worked, then the antivirals should start getting ahead of the worm now... If there’s enough uncorrupted computer left to run the programs. Too soon to say, but I’ll keep checking.
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.
Vitor nodded, he pointed to their exact opposite direction.
Silveira: I like that plan. Let go, this way.
Morgan: Response
Imril: I’m all for leaving.
Imril moved to their jacket. A puff of acrid smoke needed to be blown away from it with their hand.
Vitor winked as he began to climb up, in the direction to the corridor he pointed.
Silveira: Trust me, I have a plan and know a shortcut.
Imril: I’m not going to make the usual comment about shortcuts. I did just hotwire a warship. And I think that worked out pretty well!
Morgan: Response
Imril reclaimed their jacket before making the climb. The enemy dagger, bent and blackened, was left behind on the floor. Nothing more than a disposable tool, as the Jem’Hadar intombed within this vessel had been to the Founders.
The short route turned out to be the workout route, as it required a little more climbing and crawling. More than once, tight confinement limited the effectiveness of Imril’s light. Slowing them further. When they had to stop to help each other up or down on of the doors situated in what was to the ceiling or floor, the engineer took a moment to check their tricorder. Confirming, unfortunately, that the device was still inoperable.
A literal breath of fresh air was the first sign that they were nearly out. And then, at long last, came daylight from the open hatch. And an eager scramble for the exit.
Once outside, Vitor stretched as he turned to the others.
Silveira: Damn, I am glad we are breathing fresh air again. Next time remind me not to take the shortcut.
Imril put one hand over their brow to block out some sun until their eyes could adjust to the brightness The other once more raised their tricoder.
Imril: In less happy news, my tricorder is still inoperable. ::tapping their combadge:: Same for the combadges. Here’s hoping it’s just a matter of popping them open and forcing a hard reboot. The sooner we can get a proper scan, the better.
Morgan: Response
Vitor opened his arms wide in that usual gesture of his. With his mischievous grin and a wink.
Silveira: It's also your fault. I think both of you should know me better by now. At least we got the job done. Now let’s get back and tell Sada the good news.
Imril: And do our part to aid in the evacuation. I’m sure I can steal a minute here and there to repair our gear.
Morgan: response
(OOC: Setting this endcap at a different location than the other team, as Gnai’s last post indicated a gap in communication after its team was informed of Silveira's team 'got out safe and sound')
((Timeskip a few hours - Galaktoboureko))
The colonists were out of harm’s way and the process of getting their computers operational, complete with top of the line antiviral software courtesy of Starfleet, had begun. The away team’s gear was back to full operation parameters. There was just a little bit of spring cleaning to tend to before they could call the rescue mission done.
From the shuttle’s engineering seat, Imril did the work of analyzing the fighter wreckage with the upgraded -- and fully functional -- sensor array.
Imril: Getting good telemetry…. Comparing results against the technical specs I’d download… Looks like that fighter did some fighting before the crash. Weapons stores are roughly seventy-percent textbook maximum. That will reduce the size of the explosion nicely. ::To Silviera:: I can tell you right where to have the shuttle fire to destroy that thing once and for all. And good riddance.
Silveira/Morgan: response.
Imril: =/\= Imril to Sadar. We are ready to initiate demolition at your convenience and that of Administrator Pend. Recalculated dancer zone should be :: taps out some math:: fifteen percent smaller in diameter than my earlier estimates. But risk of a wild piece of debris going afield of that range still exists. =/\=
Sadar: response.
Imril: =/\= Acknowledged, Doctor. Galaktoboureko out. =/\=
Silveira/Morgan: response.
Imril settled into their chair and waited for the shuttle to take into the air. A leftover piece of the Dominion War would be brought to an end this day. But how many more remained, on some other world or out in space? Waiting to be stumbled over?
End For Imril
----------------------------------------------------
Ensign Imril
Engineering Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240110I12