Commander Etan Iljor - Into The Unknown
Michael Meir-Wright
OOC: The timeline has become ever so slightly fudged, so I have moved Nilsen’s second call to the away team slightly later in the proceedings (based off his use of the past tense) and I’ve described- but not wrote out- the back and forth between him and Iljor, in accordance with the established events. This should fix these minor discrepenancies! :)
(( Landing Site, Alpha Brenkelvi II ))
The wind stung Iljor’s face for a moment and he stood up, arching his back as he did.
Etan: You’re right. It’s the archaeologist in me. :: he offered the team an apologetic smile, and turned his mind back to more pressing matters. :: If the energy field and the weather are somehow linked then it stands to reason that since these breezes are coming down from the mountains, that any potential source generating the phenomena is somewhere in that direction. :: beat :: Mr. Arlill, can you establish a remote linked with the MOO-- ::he stopped, unable to say the word. :: with the device? :: beat :: Mr. Maxwell, how is the search grid coming along? :: beat :: Lieutenant Herrick, keep monitoring the situation. If there is any change to the type of or frequency of the readings, then appraise us.
Toxin pulled out a tricorder and consulted the data.
Arlill: Remote link is still active, the device reports at 40% data collection. I’ll see if I can’t accelerate it’s scans.
Herrick: It looks like these fluctuations, and the wind, occur every 42-43 seconds; there is some microscopic variation but overall, it’s consistent.
There was still not enough data to support even the merest hint of a hypothesis, but Iljor’s gut feeling was that something so consistent and regular was not likely to be a natural occurrence.
Maxwell: Response.
The wind continued to blow through the valley towards the lake, and it whistled through the dense canopy of multicoloured leaves as they proceed towards the next structure. What had been a beautiful morning was rapidly turning into a chillier affair that anyone had perhaps expected. Iljor flipped open his own tricorder again and switched the scanning device to examine and analysis the local meteorological readings.
Arlill: Sir, the energy appears to be coming from that direction. But I can only say with some certainty as we still have about 10 minutes before we have a complete profile baseline.
The XO followed the Operations Chief’s line of sight which led them deeper into the forest. He turned to Maxwell.
Etan: Are you detecting anything Lieutenant?
Maxwell: Response.
Given recent events, Iljor was eager to go rushing into the great unknown. He bit his lip as he thought, before he turned to Arlill.
Etan: Lieutenant, is there any way that you can speed up the… device’s results? oO I am not going to call it by that ridiculous name. Oo
To his credit, Arlill jumped into action.
Arlill: =/\= Arlill to Oumuamua, can you direct a structural integrity field at the device mounted on the Nichols? =/\=
Nilsen: =/\= Nilsen here, on it. =/\=
Hearing the HCO’s voice made Iljor clench his jaw. After the man’s reckless disregard for safety during the recent Denali Invitational, Iljor had lost a lot of faith in the pilot. It was clear that Nilsen was a gifted and promising officer, but he kept getting in his own way: first at the academy, and now as a commissioned officer. He had been extraordinarily lucky to not have avoided serving time in the brig.
Arlill: =/\= Thank you, Arlill out =/\=
The Bolian-Tellarite hybrid consulted his tricorder again, and Iljor took the opportunity to look back at the Nichols, which was now lightly shrouded in a fine layer of fog eminating from the lake.
Arlill: We have 2 minutes until the baseline is complete and we can pinpoint the direction of this energy field.
Etan: Very good. ::he said, punctuating his reply with an approving nod.::
Maxwell: Response.
They continued their investigation of the closest structure, and continued the gather and analyze their readings. Iljor allowed himself to enjoy the process, thrilled that he was finally on his first archaeological mission since his Academy graduation. It had been many years since his summer assisting the prylars excavating the Holy City of B’Hala- and even with his switch to command, the fire for historical discovery still burned bright inside him.
His gratitude and reverie was interrupted by the sound of an urgent klaxon coming from Lieutenant Arlill. Holding a small stone in his hand, Iljor turned to see what had happened.
Arlill: Sir, I think we have a problem.
It was a sentence no Starfleet officer liked to hear. Or utter.
Etan: What is it? ::he asked, instinctively stiffening his posture, and glancing at Maxwell.::
Maxwell: Response.
Arlill: The scan is stuck at 92% and showing the general direction of the anomalous readings but I’m getting irregular readings from the device’s power system.
Etan: Define “irregular”. ::he looked towards the still-misted shuttle.;;
Maxwell: Response.
Arlill: I’m not sure, it was operating fine until we were almost homed in on the source and suddenly it’s not responding to the command to power down.
So the MO- no, the experimental device had malfunctioned. That was not altogether unusual, such technology often did. That was why they were tested over and over again to iron out the kinks. But something in Arlill’s expression troubled Iljor. He seemed paralyzed, as if gripped by some primal emotion.
Herrick: Arlill, it looks like the Moo2 is having some difficulty with the increased scanning intensity you set it on; it’s barely holding together with the structural integrity field that’s coming down from the ship.
Maxwell: Response.
There was no reply from the Operations Chief and Iljor stepped in front of him, gripping the man on each upper arm and gently shaking him.
Etan: Toxin, I need you to listen to me. ::beat:: Whatever is going on, I need you to put to side for the time being. We can work through it, I promise- but right now I need you to tell me what is going on.
Herrick: I’m hoping you read the full manual on this thing Toxin... how do we stop it?
By now the device was visibly glowing- which was never a good sign. Iljor looked back to Arlill, who had come back to reality and was quickly manipulating the controls of his tricorder. After several seconds, the Nichols seemed to lose all power and the M- device atop it stopped glowing.
Arlill: Well I suppose that could have been worse.
Maxwell: Response.
Etan: What happened? :: he asked, feeling hopelessly nonplussed. ::
Nilsen: =/\= Bridge to away team one, we detected a massive power buildup. Ya need assistance? What was that? =/\=
Etan: =/\= To be confirmed Ensign. =/\=
Iljor could hear a worried Aine calling for the away team to be beamed back, but the comline had become poor, with hissing static cutting across their words. Iljor assured them as best as he could that everything was fine for the moment- and that they were continuing with their investigation into the energy field. He knew his friend would probably exact some sort of vengeance for not heeding her requests to return to the ‘Oumuamua- and he prayed to the Prophets that it would be a swift
and a somewhat painless experience.
The quartet soon came upon the remains of what appeared to be a wall constructed of the same stone material that made up the other structures in the area. It led deeper into the forest, and the more it did, the more ramshackle it became.
After several minutes of walking, they came upon what appeared to be a small tower with a boarded up entrance. The structure was some thirty or forty feet in height and tapered to a point at the top. Constructed of stone, it appeared to be in a similar state of disrepair to the other ruins, with vine snaking across its surface.
Herrick: Do we go in? And how?
Iljor stepped closer to the sealed entrance and studied it. The work appeared sloppy, as if somebody had done it in a hurry. He ran his tricorder over the slats and the scans revealed that they were made of a type of cellulose. Interestingly, the wood appeared to be several millennia old.
Etan: The wood is ancient. At least five thousand years old- but it’s also showing early signs of fossilisation. :: he raised an eyebrow.:: That shouldn’t be occurring for another half a million years or so. :: beat :: It’s as though something has accelerated the process.
Arlill / Maxwell: Response.
Etan: Max, would you like to do the honours?
As Maxwell set to work, the wood disintegrated in his hand, almost turning to dust before their very eyes. Iljor watched the spectacle with a deep frown, concerned as to how it was possible.
The team made short work of the rest of the planks they could reach, and when they were finished a beautifully ornate entrance lay before them, adorned with repeating patterns of circles and dots. Iljor beheld them with a mixture of wonder and surprise, mixed with the beginnings of unease.
Herrick: A warning message? ::pointing to the strange writing::
Etan: :: he held up the tricorder. ::. It’s likely, but the universal translator lacks the context to translate them- For all we know it might be a recipe for stew. :: beats :: It’s interesting though, the wood was about five millennia old- but the structure is like the others in this area: 65,000 years old. Evidently we aren’t the first people to explore this planet.
He could not help but wonder who those ancient explorers were- and what they made of the mystery before them. Had they come to learn, or to plunder the treasures of a people lost to time?
Arlill / Maxwell: Response.
Etan: I don’t see any reason not to continue, but we should proceed with caution. :: he eyed the large doors and felt a thrill of excitement. :: Lieutenant Maxwell, take point.
Arlill / Maxwell: Response.
Iljor watched with excitement as the Marine pushed open the large doors. They parted with a resonant groan, revealing a tunnel that bore down into the ground. As they stepped into it, the lights on their Video Recording Devices activated, casting a harsh white light on their surroundings.
The walls and ceiling of tunnel were lined with sheets of dull grey metal. Age had warped and buckled them in several places, with some of the ceiling plates having fell loose. In those gaps, Iljor saw elaborately carved stonework that belied a high degree of craftsmanship. Why anybody would cover that up was beyond the XO.
The floor appeared to be made of stone tiles with intricate geometric carvings that reminded Iljor of a maze. He wondered if it held any significance, but was unable to posit an answer.
His tricorder softly beeped, and he studied the readings.
Etan: The energy field is more pronounced here.
Arlill / Herrick / Maxwell: Response.
Etan: It’s possible it’s source is subterranean. I’m going to widen the scan. :: he did so and his eyebrows shot up and he came to a sudden halt. :: If I’m reading this right, there’s a vast network of tunnels down here. Scans taper off after a couple of kilometers down, but this seems to be a sprawling complex.
Arlill / Herrick / Maxwell: Response.
Etan: We press on. :: beat :: Try not to disturb anything or move anything. We’re here to record and observe, no collecting trinkets to take back to the ship.
Arlill / Herrick / Maxwell: Response.
They walked on another twenty feet or so. It was then that Iljor caught sight of something that caused his blood to freeze. He yelped and jumped backwards, crashing clumsily into the wall. He was barely able to prevent himself from falling. Regaining his footing- he turned his head- and the VRD’s light- on to what had frightened him.
A decomposed humanoid skeleton.
Arlill / Herrick / Maxwell: Response.
--
Commander Etan Iljor
Executive Officer / Archaeology Nerd
USS Oumuamua
NCC 81226
C239203TW0