Lieutenant JG Ras El'Heem - Paging Doctor Ohnari

[Ras El'Heem]

((The Probe))

(((OOC: Okay, this might be a no no, simming this soon again but It’s getting a bit confusing with the comms and I need to remedy it before things get worse. Sorry everyone.))

 

El’Heem: =/\= Do I cut the blue wire, or the red wire? ::chuckling nervously:: just kidding they’re all black. There are some wire bundles labelled here. What’s engineering lingo for ‘targeting’? =/\=

 

T’Dara/Dewitt: =/\= Response =/\=

 

A high-pitched static shrieked through his comms. Ras slapped his gloved hands over his ears, grimacing. He smacked his commbadge. The screech modulated into a duller static hum. He winced, shaking the sting from his ears.

 

El’Heem: =/\= T’Dara, come in. Do you read me? =/\=

 

No response. Only the low wash of static.

 

El’Heem: =/\= Connor? =/\=

 

Still nothing.

 

Ras cursed under his breath and glanced back over his shoulder at the Ouchita. He couldn’t see the singularity itself, but a brightening corona was forming behind the runabout. A sure sign of another radiation event. He swore again and turned back to the probe. The storm must’ve been scrambling communications. He was on his own now. No time left to second guess. His hands hovered over the topmost gel pack, shaking slightly. Then his comms crackled to life.

 

Michaels: =/\= Lt. El'Heem. I have a plan. I asked Commander T'Dara if the probe could shoot at something that it could not detect. Her response amounted to 'probably not.' =/\=

 

El'Heem: =/\= Michaels. ::pausing to swallow nervously:: Glad to hear you haven’t suffered significant brain damage. Uh..right . ‘Probably not’ isn’t exactly comforting. I was in the middle of talking with engineering before the storm hit. There’s some kind of routing system for the targeting array, but I missed how to disable it. =/\=

 

Michaels: =/\= I know, but it is as positive a response as we are likely to get from her. My suggestion is that we disable the probe's sensors. There are six sensors, one each located on the left side, right side, top, bottom, front, and back. If you destroy them, starting with the ones that are not currently aiming at Khitomer, we can blind the probe. Assuming T'Dara is correct, the probe will be unable to fire. If she is wrong, and the probe does fire, then it is highly improbable that it will hit Khitomer. =/\=

 

El'Heem: =/\= Wait. You mean smash ‘em? That…I can do. =/\=

 

Ras looked up at the probe’s red hull, then back down. There wasn’t any time to hesitate. It would be faster to go up first. He engaged his thrusters and ascended toward the top. As he curved over its edge, his stomach dropped. The top surface was studded with hundreds of rounded nodules, each potentially a sensor, antenna, or emitter.

 

El’Heem: Sp’areth!

 

He hadn’t said that particular vulgarity in years. Backing off slightly, Ras scanned the surface. Near the side facing the Khitomer, he spotted a black domed bubble

 

oO That has to be it. Oo

 

He surged toward it, straddled the dome, then magnetized his left glove and boots to the hull. He began to pummel the sensor with his right fist. Blow after blow after blow. The probe was built to withstand micro-meteoroids.

 

Ras El’Heem was not.

 

Still, he had no other option. Panting, he disengaged his right boot magnet and stood shakily. The singularity was now fully visible in his peripheral view. His visor flickered, his HUD momentarily distorted. Ras squinted, steadied himself, then began stomping the sensor with his boot. A hairline crack.

 

Again.

 

And again.

 

He dropped to his knees and resumed pounding it with his fist.

 

EVA Suit: Warning: Exertion threshold exceeded.

 

Ras, shook his head, ignored it and slammed his fist once more. The dome shattered. Pain shot through his arm and he screamed, cradling his hand to his chest. His breath came in ragged gasps, mouth dry, his lungs burning. He knelt there, swaying slightly.

 

Michaels: =/\= Michaels to Lt. El'Heem. Ras. Stop what you're doing and get back to the access hatch. Khitomer believes the device is going to fire in approximately a minute. We have to switch to plan B. =/\=

 

El'Heem: =/\= ::groaning between breaths:: Shit, Michaels. Okay. Okay. How? =/\=

 

Still clutching his broken hand, Ras forced himself upright and released his boots.

 

Michaels: =/\= If the probe does not know how to target or fire, it can not do either one. Unclamp the gel packs and pull them out. Do not... I repeat ... do not touch the isolinear chips. Think of it as brain surgery on the probe. No pressure. You have slightly more than sixty seconds. =/\=

 

El’Heem: =/\= ::stilling breathing laboriously:: Right. Brain surgery. With a broken hand. ::swallowing hard:: Easy. =/\=

 

He launched himself back toward the hatch, thrusters at full. He flipped as he crossed the probe's curve, now upside down. Reversing thrust, he slowed enough to grab the hatch frame with his good hand. The impact knocked him flat against the hull. He stabilized, peering into the hatch.

 

Oo Gel packs out. Right. Why didn’t I think of that? Oo

 

With one working hand, Ras released the top and bottom clamps of each gel pack. He magnetized his injured hand to the hull for leverage. Another scream tore from his throat. Bracing, he yanked the first gel pack free. The probe began to tremble. He glanced at the Ouchita, now slightly closer, then turned back and ripped the second gel pack free.

 

Without wasting a second, he disengaged the magnet in his right hand and kicked off from the probe. He watched as the probe shrank away from him. The probe’s interior began to glow, light flaring between the exposed isolinear chips. Sparks arced across the compartment. The pain in Ras’s hand was blinding. His head swam, and a wave of nausea twisted in his gut. He groaned, softer this time. The enthusiasm of the groans before, now dulled by sheer exhaustion. Clenching his eyes shut, he swallowed hard to keep the sickness down. When he opened them again, the probe was glowing brighter than before, pulsing with an unnatural intensity.

 

The light swelled until it engulfed everything. His entire field of vision filled with searing white. The HUD flickered once… then died. A heartbeat later, everything went black.

Tags/End for Ras

Lieutenant JG Ras El’Heem

Medical Officer

USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)

K240106RE3