Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav: Down A Redhead, Up A Blonde
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Andrew B
Oct 1, 2025, 10:08:14 PM (2 days ago) Oct 1
to Gorkon IC
((Dopterian Cargo Ship, Dockyards, Orbital Ring))
The pair leaned into the broken bit of debris. There was a screech and the panels slid apart another finger, no where near enough but still nescessitating a quick repositioning. They kept at it, straining againt the resistance, until it finally gave way with one last bird-like screech. The sudden shift of momentum sent Vylaa flying back against the wall with an oof.
zh’Tisav: That smarts!
Marshall: You'll survive. ::She peeled herself off the door and glanced over.:: Unless you won't, then I've got a medkit somewhere.
Vylaa waved her off. It would take more than a bump to take her out.
zh’Tisav: I’ll be fine. But I haven’t heard our friend in there make a peep in a while.
In fact, she hadn’t heard much over their attempts to open the door. For all she knew, they had expired.
Marshall: That's a point.
They stepped through the door, finding a compartment much like the rest they had encountered. Although this room seemed less of a storeroom and more of a workspace, it was just as damaged, it’s contents strewn about by the crash. In the middle of the room had been a triad of pedistal mounted consoles. One clung to life, another was on it’s side, barely held in place by the remains of a frayed optical cable. The third had been ripped up by the force of the collision and thrown across the room.
It was here they found the rooms only occupant. A Dopterian lay under the console, his skin burned and cut, a trickle of yellowish blood escaping from behind on ear. The console and it’s pedistal covered most of him, but what little Vylaa could see of his clothing made her suspect he was no mere laboror.
zh’Tisav: I should be able to lift the console, if you’ll pull him out.
She pushed against it, testing it’s weight and found it managable.
Marshall: Ready when you are.
Vylaa took hold and lifted. Andorians could lift nearly twice their weight, and this equipment approached that limit, making the muscles in the zehn’s calves twitch. Fortunately, Dopterians were small like their Ferengi cousins, and this one was soon laying on the open deck. Vylaa was no medic, but he looked bad.
zh’Tisav: ::Lowering the console.:: How bad is it?
Marshall: Pretty bad. Rib fractures, pulmonary contusions, liver trauma, soft tissue lacerations from the shrapnel. Superficial burns though. Some good news.
zh'Tisav: Precious little...
Marshall: He's disorientated, struggling to breathe. ::Her lips formed a thin line as she looked up to Vylaa, forming a decision.:: We're going to have to move him into transporter range. See anything we can use as a makeshift stretcher?
The zhen glanced around the room with a discerning eye.
zh'Tisav: One of those wall panels, and some ODN cable... I can make a sled we can drag him on.
The overhead lights blinked twice, longer the second time. Vylaa guessed the power network, taxed as it were by the crash induced damage, was on it’s last legs. Knowing they had limited time, Vylaa rose to here feet and eyed one of the wall panels still clinging to it’s mount.
The heavy clomp of boots on the deck outside caught their attention. The pair shared a look while they both reached for their phasers. Vylaa trained hers on the doorway, index finger hovering over the trigger.
Cain: Response
The Andorian jerked her phaser to the side, away from the blonde human who had suddenly appeared in the gap in the door panels.
zh’Tisav: Gods, Cain! I almost shot you!
Marshall: Deyari made it out in one piece, then.
zh’Tisav: And it wasn’t not too hard to get in? I’d have thought this ship would be locked down by now.
Cain : Response
zh;Tisav: So far all we’ve found is our friend there, and he’s in no condition to talk… Or walk.
Marshall / Cain: response
The zhen approached one of the wall panels that hid much of the ship’s inner workings from view. Firm tug pulled it from the wall. It was quickly apparent to the engineer that the ships owners had cheaped out on the panels; the one in her hands lacked any reinforcments and flexed with every slight movement.
zh’Tisav: ::Laying the panel on the floor.:: If I can salvage some cables we can pull him to transporter range. That’s probably safer than carrying him over uneven deckplates.
Marshall / Cain: response
zh’Tisav: Are we taking him to the Gorkon or the local doctors?
Marshall / Cain: response
The pair leaned into the broken bit of debris. There was a screech and the panels slid apart another finger, no where near enough but still nescessitating a quick repositioning. They kept at it, straining againt the resistance, until it finally gave way with one last bird-like screech. The sudden shift of momentum sent Vylaa flying back against the wall with an oof.
zh’Tisav: That smarts!
Marshall: You'll survive. ::She peeled herself off the door and glanced over.:: Unless you won't, then I've got a medkit somewhere.
Vylaa waved her off. It would take more than a bump to take her out.
zh’Tisav: I’ll be fine. But I haven’t heard our friend in there make a peep in a while.
In fact, she hadn’t heard much over their attempts to open the door. For all she knew, they had expired.
Marshall: That's a point.
They stepped through the door, finding a compartment much like the rest they had encountered. Although this room seemed less of a storeroom and more of a workspace, it was just as damaged, it’s contents strewn about by the crash. In the middle of the room had been a triad of pedistal mounted consoles. One clung to life, another was on it’s side, barely held in place by the remains of a frayed optical cable. The third had been ripped up by the force of the collision and thrown across the room.
It was here they found the rooms only occupant. A Dopterian lay under the console, his skin burned and cut, a trickle of yellowish blood escaping from behind on ear. The console and it’s pedistal covered most of him, but what little Vylaa could see of his clothing made her suspect he was no mere laboror.
zh’Tisav: I should be able to lift the console, if you’ll pull him out.
She pushed against it, testing it’s weight and found it managable.
Marshall: Ready when you are.
Vylaa took hold and lifted. Andorians could lift nearly twice their weight, and this equipment approached that limit, making the muscles in the zehn’s calves twitch. Fortunately, Dopterians were small like their Ferengi cousins, and this one was soon laying on the open deck. Vylaa was no medic, but he looked bad.
zh’Tisav: ::Lowering the console.:: How bad is it?
Marshall: Pretty bad. Rib fractures, pulmonary contusions, liver trauma, soft tissue lacerations from the shrapnel. Superficial burns though. Some good news.
zh'Tisav: Precious little...
Marshall: He's disorientated, struggling to breathe. ::Her lips formed a thin line as she looked up to Vylaa, forming a decision.:: We're going to have to move him into transporter range. See anything we can use as a makeshift stretcher?
The zhen glanced around the room with a discerning eye.
zh'Tisav: One of those wall panels, and some ODN cable... I can make a sled we can drag him on.
The overhead lights blinked twice, longer the second time. Vylaa guessed the power network, taxed as it were by the crash induced damage, was on it’s last legs. Knowing they had limited time, Vylaa rose to here feet and eyed one of the wall panels still clinging to it’s mount.
The heavy clomp of boots on the deck outside caught their attention. The pair shared a look while they both reached for their phasers. Vylaa trained hers on the doorway, index finger hovering over the trigger.
Cain: Response
The Andorian jerked her phaser to the side, away from the blonde human who had suddenly appeared in the gap in the door panels.
zh’Tisav: Gods, Cain! I almost shot you!
Marshall: Deyari made it out in one piece, then.
zh’Tisav: And it wasn’t not too hard to get in? I’d have thought this ship would be locked down by now.
Cain : Response
zh;Tisav: So far all we’ve found is our friend there, and he’s in no condition to talk… Or walk.
Marshall / Cain: response
The zhen approached one of the wall panels that hid much of the ship’s inner workings from view. Firm tug pulled it from the wall. It was quickly apparent to the engineer that the ships owners had cheaped out on the panels; the one in her hands lacked any reinforcments and flexed with every slight movement.
zh’Tisav: ::Laying the panel on the floor.:: If I can salvage some cables we can pull him to transporter range. That’s probably safer than carrying him over uneven deckplates.
Marshall / Cain: response
zh’Tisav: Are we taking him to the Gorkon or the local doctors?
Marshall / Cain: response
Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav
Engineering Specialist
USS Gorkon
C238601TB0
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