Lieutenant JG Ollie Bergmen - Can one heal the sprained ego?
CPT Arianus
(( Fohledi Nature Reserve, Rylor ))
Ollie revved the engine and pushed it to full throttle. The bike immediately surged forward, and Gideon chose to trust the HUD for once to decide where to lift off. He regretted it a couple of seconds later when the HUD assessed the landing spot—just a heartbeat before he took off from the ground.
Bergmen: =/\= Bad idea. It was a bad idea! =/\=
Imril: ::Shaking his head:: =/\= Bad idea. =/\=
Bancroft: ::exasperated:: =/\= I believe we all made a very gentlemanly agreement not to create extra work for one another today. =/\=
Bergmen shifted his weight forward and leaned to one side to lessen the impact, but it wasn't enough. The back wheel sank deep into the deteriorating dirt, and he revved the engine, desperate to break free before the crumbling edge swallowed him. Suddenly, the wheel hit a rock or firmer ground and jolted forward, nearly sending Ollie Kimmi Bergmen over the handlebars. He flipped himself and the bike aside, sliding to safety on the roadside.
Bergmen: =/\= Go, go, ok’am ok, just go! =/\=
But his words of encouragement became increasingly pointless with each passing moment. Ollie watched the edge vanish, the gap between him and the others grow wider. The sound of falling dirt and stone echoed as they tumbled into the crevice. He was blocked, making it impossible to reach him by jumping over the road's sinkhole.
Imril: ::To Bergman:: =/\= Don’t worry, Ollie! We’ll get to you! =/\= ::Pointing up the slope to trace a path for Bancroft:: =/\= The trees above are still holding the earth together. It’s the opposite of a shortcut, but stable ground is stable ground. I’ll scout ahead. =/\=
The pair of Starfleet officers disappeared from view as they drove out of Bergmen's sight, taking a detour. He stood alone on the road, wondering how long it would take for them to return.
There was nothing he could do to help them now, and his only option was to retrieve his machine, which was stuck in the bushes. That and hope they would find him before he had to move or before the road behind him collapsed as well, cutting him off completely.
Bancroft: =/\= About 30 meters behind you, Imril. =/\=
Ollie stopped as a doctor’s voice in his comms cracked.
Bergmen: =/\= How is it going, guys? No more sinkholes? =/\=
Imril: =/\= So far, so good. Headed down. If I keep going when I reach you, don’t try to catch me. =/\=
Bergmen smiled and stepped off the road to reach into the bushes to grab the motorcycle's wheel sticking out. He tried to pull the machine free, the branches cracked, and the bike shifted slightly, but not enough. Quickly, Ollie realized that extracting it would be difficult. He then sighed and hopped down from the road to start untangling the branches, tearing them away from the bike's frame, one by one.
He was almost finished when he heard the sounds of idling engines, the crunch of dirt, and the squeal of brakes, signaling that Imril and Roy were getting close. He reached for the motorcycle's handlebars, pulled it free with a jerk, and began dragging it back onto the road just as his rescuers appeared through the dust a few meters ahead.
Bergmen: =/\= Welcome to this side of the road, gentlemen. Glad to see you made it. =/\=
They stopped their bikes near and killed the engines. Roy's visor lifted before his boots had fully settled, and the glance he gave Ollie was nearly as sharp as it was analytical.
Ollie looked at his hands and his body, beginning to understand why the doctor was looking at him that way. Covered in dust dirt, with protective armor scratched from sliding on the road... plus a branches sticking out from behind the sides of his armor didn’t improve the look either. He shrugged with a sorryful expression visible behind his visor and began to pick out a few branches lodged between his protective gear.
Imril: ::Quite concerned:: You sure you’re OK, Ollie?
Hands free to move as he removed branches pressing against his knuckles, Ollie took off his helmet to answer. Meanwhile, Roy stepped closer, tricorder in hand, to take measurements, which there was no point in protesting.
Bancroft: ::calmly:: No contusions. No significant bleeding. No obvious fractures. No immediate indication that you’ve done anything medically interesting to yourself. ::snapping the tricorder shut:: Which, frankly, feels a little show-offy under the circumstances. ::mustache twitching:: There is, however, one injury I feel ethically obligated to report.
Bergmen: ::to Imril:: You hear the doctor, Dilê min, I’m all right… ::glance at Roy as he hears his addendum:: Eh… injury, Roy? I feel fine…
Bancroft: ::cracking a wide smile:: What appears to be a fairly aggressive sprain of your ego.
oO Really, Roy? Yeah, I guess… Oo
Ollie gave the doctor a sarcastic glance, his expression clearly amused yet suggesting that the doctor could have kept that comment to himself.
Bergmen: Ha Ha, right. Point taken.
Imril: Response
Bancroft: Well, if I’m apparently practicing medicine on my day off, it seems only fair that the two of you get dragged into it with me…
The doctor gestured toward Ollie's bike laying still at his feet in the dust, ensnared in the tangled foliage.
Bancroft: How’s the other patient doing?
Ollie knelt beside the machine and began stripping the excess bush before setting it back up and securing it in place. Once he cleared away the remaining branches from the frame, he carefully felt the engine thoroughly inside and out.
Bergmen: Some scratches, but mostly ok… ::shows other the points of his fingers in the glove, greasy from motor oil:: But this can be a little problem. Imril, wanna take a look?
Imril: Response
Gideon made a space for his nazdarakam and opened the compartment under the seat to rummage through what was available. First-aid kit, some fuzes, just a little self-sealing duct tape. And two unmarked flasks.
oO Great.. Oo
Bergmen: So, how do you see our patient?
Imril/Bancroft: Response
Ollie took one of the flasks, opened it, sniffed, and looked inside before closing it again and checking the second, and repeated the process.
Bergmen: Brake fluid, almost full, and about two quarts of motor oil, which should be ok? But I guess this joke of the tape will not be enough, right? ::to Bancroft:: Have you any in your compartment?
Imril/Bancroft: Response
TAG/TBC
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Lieutenant JG Ollie Bergmen
Operations Officer
U.S.S. Artemis-A
A240009JC1