Ensign Imril - Turn, Turn, Turn...
Chris Taylor
(OOC: Gmail reversed the order of my SB118 addresses, sorry,)
(( Outside Water Treatment Plant - Outskirts of the Bantlox Colony, Laoi III ))
Silveira: C’mon Doc, let’s find something to pry this can open.
Morgan: I thought you’d never ask!
Silveira smirked and joined Imril, giving the Doctor look that they didn’t quite see.
Silveira: It’s going to be a team effort. You're also going to pull some weight Doc.
Morgan: Hey, I’m not just a pretty face and a pair of good hands. ::mock flexing::
Imril chuckled. A brief respite from the tension of disabling a multi-ton bomb.
Silveira: Well, I didn’t ask to be in charge here, but since I am… ::he shrugged and looked to Imril:: What are we looking for anyway?
Imril: Something we can use like a combination screwdriver and lever to turn the latches with. I don’t know the target angle, but Iwouldn’t expect more than one-hundred-eighty degrees. Jem’Hadar aren’t the most flexible people. In so many ways.
Silveira nodded, and Morgan rocked his head back and forth, his eyes scanning the equipment for something useful.
Imril’s trained eye found quite a bit to play with, actually. Including a discarded padd that might have been thrown aside by someone who might have grown frustrated by sudden malfunctions. It was an older model, to be sure. The screen was black but a bit of jiggering with the buttons got the screen to activate. Solid digital snow. Imril stashed it within their field jacket; it would make due as an indicator of when or if the colony gear was restored to working order.
Silveira: Not exactly something I am used to using…
His eyes narrowed as a piece of iron pipe caught his eye. He took several paces forward, walking over much of the loose equipment, until he pulled it from the ground.
Morgan: What about this? Will this work?
Imril: Yeah, that’s a good find. Jem’Hadar are strong, but I expect iron is stronger for our purpose. Honestly, I could cobble together a couple of magnetic screwdrivers to do the job with all this tech. But I don't know how the ship will respond to a spike in EM activity, so let’s not risk it.
Manual energy was best, at least until the interference signal was shut down.
Silveira: response
Morgan held it forward and offered it to Silveira and winked.
Morgan: Do we need another one?
He pointed at several other pipes of similar sizes close to where he picked up the first one.
Imril: Make it three. Both latches will need to be turned simultaneously, and we might all need one on the inside.
Imril sidestepped around a palette of pipe fixtures towards a power tool much like a jackhammer. It had been laid down beside a collection of duranium rods, longer and denser than the collected piping. They seemed destined to be mounted into stone to serve as anchor points for the pipes. Anchors that wouldn’t have to be replaced or repaired for a good long time.
Imril: ::Lifting up an anchor-rod with audible effort:: This should do for jamming the hatch open. I’d rather not let the ship decide when to close the hatch back up. ::To Silveira:: Little help? Please?
Silveira: Response
Morgan nodded. With the equipment in hand, the trio made their way back to the hatches.
Morgan: Okay. I found the pipes. You two can be responsible for opening the doors.
Silveira: Response
Imril set the anchor-rod down, and shook their arms free of the memory of its weight. They walked about the hatch’s borders and found the second latch, set into a circular hollow like the equator line on a world map. A bit of digging exposed enough of the mechanism to work with. A little bit of dir at the bottom would work as something to plant their makeshift lever into.
Into the hole went one end of Imril’s pipe. They took a long, bracing breath and began to push at the upper half. Nothing happened. They reset the pipe to press against the opposite side of the latch and pulled again. This time, with significant effort on their part, the latch began to move. The far ends of the latch rotated about half a centimeter in opposing directions before hitting a ‘wall’ of resistance. Some internal mechanism required action from the other latch before continuing to turn the required gears.
Imril: It goes counter-clockwise, Lieutenant. Doctor Morgan, you’ll have to be our eyes into whatever’s on the other side.
Silveira/Morgan: Response
Imril: ::To Silveira:: Ready when you are, Sir.
Silveira/Morgan: Response
Imril: On three… One… Two… Three!
Imril pushed the bar with all of their might. Their latch began to turn once more, slowly. Little bits of grit falling away from the edges of the hollow. A low rumble sounded from behind the hatch. A stubborn groan of metal left untended for too long.
Tag, and TBC!
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Ensign Imril
Engineering Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240110I12