Lt. Taelon - Slumming It
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Alison Hardwick
Sep 30, 2025, 5:50:44 PM (3 days ago) Sep 30
to USS Gorkon – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Apartment Block, lower vIq’mItlth City))
Taelon’s listing of the apartment number was cut short by the sound of shattering glass from far above. He looked up, watching the glittering shards falling towards them. It felt like it was only for a second, but Tovan pushed him forwards, breaking the moment of surprise.
T. Sevo: MOVE!
Reynolds: Responses
Taelon stumbled forward, then ran as they all hurried into the shelter of the building’s foyet. It was no fancy apartment block - just a walkway, stairs, and a lift. Taelon headed for the lift, holding the doors for the others.
V’lar: The damaged window is on the sixth floor. Given that is believed to be the informant's location, I would surmise that it is highly improbable that it is a coincidence.
T. Sevo: I’m not sure it’s wise to take the lift up to a possible hostile environment.
He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but Taelon had a feeling the broken window was related to their quarry, and running up some 6 flights of stairs would take longer. He looked to Reynolds, silent but expectant that she direct them.
V’Lar: Admiral, we know the informant is at risk and that some kind of altercation has taken place on that floor. Time may be of the essence.
Reynolds: Responses
T. Sevo: ::Sighing:: Very well, in you go. I’ll be last in, first out.
Reynolds: Response
((Apartment Block, Floor 6 - Upper vIq'mItlh City, veHrom’nagh))
The lift wasn’t roomy, though it had head clearance for Taelon, something he appreciated. In such a small, confined space, Reynolds and V’Lar were mostly visible as the tops of their heads. ARIA hovered near the ceiling, since there wasn’t much room otherwise.
The doors slid open on the 6th floor, which felt oddly quiet. Sevo stepped out, Taelon waiting til he said something to move.
T. Sevo: Clear.
Reynolds / V’Lar / Taelon: Response
The hallway was long, narrow, and lined with debris and detritus. It was lit only by artificial, harsh lights, half of which were flickering or out, and trash sat piled near the long row of identical doors.
And through the center was the well-worn trail through the mess the residents made. Taelon thought he could detect signs of recent activity; two trash bags knocked into the walkway, a broken transmitter kicked and leaving a fresh scrape mark in the dust.
T. Sevo: What apartment did you say he was in?
Taelon: Eighteen.
V'Lar: Judging from the apparent floor plan, ::Gesturing ahead of them:: I believe it is the fourth door on the left from our current position.
Reynolds / T.Sevo: Response
They continued along the hal, towards the indicated door. Taelon hadn’t seen its like before. On his own time amid the Klingons, they’d stayed to the frontier, where cities weren’t built up enough to justify the expense of block housing. They passed graffiti - the universal constant - and Taelon glanced and tried to read it as they looked for the apartment number.
In yellow and red, someone had emblazoned a stylisted targ, mouth open and roaring, behind the text ‘yInlu'taH 'e' bajnISlu'. Only the strong can survive.
He scrunched his face up, hoping that didn’t bode badly for their target.
The numbers by the doors were just as old as the rest of the place, barely legible. Perhaps once they’d lit up, but now, they only stood out for their white lettering. They counted down: twelve, thirteen, fourteen…
The background noise of the block rose as they closed in. Finally, they reached number eighteen, and it wasn’t good - very fresh dents and scrape marks showed where someone had forced the door. Thumping and the sound of broken glass underfoot came from beyond the thin metal door.
V'Lar: I am detecting faint Klingon life signs from within.
Reynolds / T.Sevo: Response
V'Lar: The readings are fluctuating, they may be injured or there may be something in their immediate vicinity that is interfering with tricorder readings.
Taelon: I-
Someone on the other side screamed, and Taelon hit the door’s opening button almost instinctively. It didn’t budge, though, warped in its frame. Taelon hurriedly grabbed the bent edge of the sliding door. He nodded to the others as they got in position, then pulled with all his might, trying to force the sliding door open. It creaked and then squealed as the metal started to move against its will.
Reynolds / V’Lar / T.Sevo: Response
Taelon: Damn - V’Lar, can you -
Her Vulcan strength would come in handy, he hoped, as his fingers ached and his muscles strained.
Reynolds / V’Lar / T.Sevo: Response
Lieutenant Taelon
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
Taelon’s listing of the apartment number was cut short by the sound of shattering glass from far above. He looked up, watching the glittering shards falling towards them. It felt like it was only for a second, but Tovan pushed him forwards, breaking the moment of surprise.
T. Sevo: MOVE!
Reynolds: Responses
Taelon stumbled forward, then ran as they all hurried into the shelter of the building’s foyet. It was no fancy apartment block - just a walkway, stairs, and a lift. Taelon headed for the lift, holding the doors for the others.
V’lar: The damaged window is on the sixth floor. Given that is believed to be the informant's location, I would surmise that it is highly improbable that it is a coincidence.
T. Sevo: I’m not sure it’s wise to take the lift up to a possible hostile environment.
He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but Taelon had a feeling the broken window was related to their quarry, and running up some 6 flights of stairs would take longer. He looked to Reynolds, silent but expectant that she direct them.
V’Lar: Admiral, we know the informant is at risk and that some kind of altercation has taken place on that floor. Time may be of the essence.
Reynolds: Responses
T. Sevo: ::Sighing:: Very well, in you go. I’ll be last in, first out.
Reynolds: Response
((Apartment Block, Floor 6 - Upper vIq'mItlh City, veHrom’nagh))
The lift wasn’t roomy, though it had head clearance for Taelon, something he appreciated. In such a small, confined space, Reynolds and V’Lar were mostly visible as the tops of their heads. ARIA hovered near the ceiling, since there wasn’t much room otherwise.
The doors slid open on the 6th floor, which felt oddly quiet. Sevo stepped out, Taelon waiting til he said something to move.
T. Sevo: Clear.
Reynolds / V’Lar / Taelon: Response
The hallway was long, narrow, and lined with debris and detritus. It was lit only by artificial, harsh lights, half of which were flickering or out, and trash sat piled near the long row of identical doors.
And through the center was the well-worn trail through the mess the residents made. Taelon thought he could detect signs of recent activity; two trash bags knocked into the walkway, a broken transmitter kicked and leaving a fresh scrape mark in the dust.
T. Sevo: What apartment did you say he was in?
Taelon: Eighteen.
V'Lar: Judging from the apparent floor plan, ::Gesturing ahead of them:: I believe it is the fourth door on the left from our current position.
Reynolds / T.Sevo: Response
They continued along the hal, towards the indicated door. Taelon hadn’t seen its like before. On his own time amid the Klingons, they’d stayed to the frontier, where cities weren’t built up enough to justify the expense of block housing. They passed graffiti - the universal constant - and Taelon glanced and tried to read it as they looked for the apartment number.
In yellow and red, someone had emblazoned a stylisted targ, mouth open and roaring, behind the text ‘yInlu'taH 'e' bajnISlu'. Only the strong can survive.
He scrunched his face up, hoping that didn’t bode badly for their target.
The numbers by the doors were just as old as the rest of the place, barely legible. Perhaps once they’d lit up, but now, they only stood out for their white lettering. They counted down: twelve, thirteen, fourteen…
The background noise of the block rose as they closed in. Finally, they reached number eighteen, and it wasn’t good - very fresh dents and scrape marks showed where someone had forced the door. Thumping and the sound of broken glass underfoot came from beyond the thin metal door.
V'Lar: I am detecting faint Klingon life signs from within.
Reynolds / T.Sevo: Response
V'Lar: The readings are fluctuating, they may be injured or there may be something in their immediate vicinity that is interfering with tricorder readings.
Taelon: I-
Someone on the other side screamed, and Taelon hit the door’s opening button almost instinctively. It didn’t budge, though, warped in its frame. Taelon hurriedly grabbed the bent edge of the sliding door. He nodded to the others as they got in position, then pulled with all his might, trying to force the sliding door open. It creaked and then squealed as the metal started to move against its will.
Reynolds / V’Lar / T.Sevo: Response
Taelon: Damn - V’Lar, can you -
Her Vulcan strength would come in handy, he hoped, as his fingers ached and his muscles strained.
Reynolds / V’Lar / T.Sevo: Response
Lieutenant Taelon
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
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