Lt JG Imril - Sciencing The [Expletive Deleted] Out Of This
Chris Taylor
((Underground Shore, Callis I))
Imril’s musings on the crystals were temporarily distracted by the sight of Doctor Jaran having to swallow a bone regrowth pill. The closest thing they’d ever come to tasting one of the reportedly vile things was their motorcycle accident back on the streets of San Francisco. Earth. Sol System. Sector 0-0-1.
The fall might as well have happened on Qo’Nos or Antares IV or some rock on the other end of the Bajoran Wormhole. All other worlds were all just as far away from Imril as any other, now. One planetary atmosphere. 10,000 kilometers (give or take) or bust.
Munro: Imril, you’re right we need to have a closer look :: indicates in the other direction :: There’s more to this section of the waterways, beyond that platform I think there might be other areas. Maybe a facility? Might give us some answers before we start poking around with the crystals? :: joking :: Maybe an instruction manual? A rocket ship would be nice.
Silveira: Maybe we get lucky Commander.
Imril had already given consideration to building or salvaging a rocket. Not so much to carry hundreds of kilograms of people and supplies off the planet, but to lift some evidence of the team’s presence into orbit. Nearly all considerations on the topic came back to a requirement for the team to unearth the components for rocket fuel themselves and process it too.
Imril: Our best bet of firing a rocket with pre-existing supplies will be pre-warp solid fuel, but that depends on how long ago it was made. High-end formulations can be viable for up to forty years, depending what condition their containers are in*. Any liquid fuel that hasn’t evaporated by now will be degraded to the point of being unreliable, even dangerous, to use. Fusion and antimatter based propellants would have exploded the moment the Maelstrom happened and electromagnetic containment stopped working, if the natives got that far up the Richter Scale.
So far there was no evidence of such advancement, or that developing the technology was ever possible on this world, but the engineer was just being thorough. It was soothing to just be an engineer again for a moment.
Imril turned to the whole group.
Imril: Oh, and in case anyone’s thinking of building a cannon out of bamboo and conveniently placed gunpowder components to fight the Things with, don’t. Odds of mixing gunpowder properly by hand are very low. And if it did work, odds are extremely high that firing it will explode you into a greasy smear of Nagus Burger meat. Bombs and mines though... Hmm...
Munro: Okay, Silveira you stay here and keep an eye on the doc and Ensign Breys.
Silveira: Understood Commander.
Instructions given, Munro took the lead and made her way up the broken steps. The other platform was mostly reduced to vines and moss but there were still signs of life. Broken spokes of metal. She seemed to be coming up with her own ideas as to what they had once been.
Imril was looking for salvage opportunities as well as clues to the former occupants. Imril removed a pouch from their jacket to store a new collection in.
Munro: Ensign Breys, that was a great spot with the crystals, I want you to have a look around this area with Commander Silveira. Anything you can find: food, clues to the origins or function of this place, and what the crystals might do? If you can use your botany skills and find us some food that would be useful too?
In all the other talk, Imril had almost forgotten that the Commander had suggested they look into making traps for the riverbed. Lengths of wire, pieces of metal that could be fashioned into springs or clasps, would be a priory find on this subterranean nature walk.
Silveira: Don’t take too long and remember where we are parked.
Imril: Blue lot, next to the picture of Donald Duck.
Imril followed after Munro, and the voices of the others faded into a echoed murmur.
Breys: I’ll see what I can find! I think that the seaweed might be a good place to start.
Silveira gestured dramatically towards the rest of the remaining few.
Silveira: Well, looks like you're stuck with me.
The ensigns were in good hands, then.
((OOC Splitting Munro and Imril text here))
The area the pair was walking through resembled some sort of public gathering area. The spokes could have been parts of tables. The flattened, moss-covered shapes could have been seats or parts of benches. To Imril, the site was starting to resemble a subway terminal, if the star chart could be considered decorative ceiling art.
Now was as good a time as any to propose the concept that Imril had been mulling over.
Imril: Commander, I’ve been thinking about ways to get a signal out, assuming our communicators are simply inactive and their internal components haven't been fragged by the Maelstrom. Ways that don’t involve mining for rocket fuel. This underground river might be the way to a solution.
Munro: Response
The lieutenant began detailing a concept realized after getting out of the air duct where they first encountered the Things. Premised on the fact that everyone hadn’t dropped dead the moment the Karnack’s EM shielding went down.
Imril: If we can find a deep enough body of water, it might act as an insulator against the Maelstrom’s effect on our tech. The same way the water in our bodies might be what’s allowing the bioelectrical activity in our bodies to continue. We could open up a communicator and scratch up the circuit board in the right places to hard-trigger its emergency beacon function. Then close it back up and sink it. If it reaches a depth past which it can function, if it can function, it would automatically reactivate passive low-energy mode. At which point it would recognize the beacon command and start broadcasting.
Imril’s communication booster would be ineffective for the task, as it didn’t come pre-programmed with all of the automatic emergency-rescue functions that a combadge did. And any signals sent would rely on a rescue ship in orbit to detect it and network with the source. But at least the five officers would be sending something.
Munro: Response
Imril: Aye, there are a lot of ‘what ifs’ and ‘yeah buts’ to this idea. I’m not entirely sure how deep of water we’d need, for one. Salt water would be too conductive, I expect.
The light from the starchart was fading, but there was still enough to navigate by. A glint of reflected pink suggested a piece of metal that hadn’t entirely rusted over from all the moisture in the air. Imril moved over to it as Munro provided her answer. Whatever it was, it was covered in moss and leaves. Which they started pulling away with one of their metal tools. Not eager to get something all over their hands which might cause an allergic reaction.
Munro: Response
TAGS/TBC
((OOC: * = Google says solid fuel lasts thirty years, but I upped the number to account for scifi-enabled advances in chemistry))
((OOC2: In light of the "Arena" reference, the original title for this post was "It Was On Mythbusters, So It's Cannon"))
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Lieutenant JG Imril
Engineering Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240110I12