Commander Etan Iljor: The Ticking Clock Part I

[Michael Meir-Wright]

“The Ticking Clock Part I”

(( Mine, Somatrik Mountains, Cheyd’alang ))

Etan: Which begs the question- how do we communicate back?

Nilsen: I can’t send it unless they send it first, but I can reply to them, but they have left it open for me. So erm…gis us a sec.

Iljor made a show of continuing his work while he watched Nilsen close his eyes. It was a sign that The Prophets were looking out for the away team that Commander Rouiancet had assigned the human communications officer to the away team so soon after his experiences on Alpha Brenkelvi II.

Without warning, an image flashed across his mind and he felt the base of his neck tingling. It appeared to be an image of a tunnel carved into rock, reaching up towards a distant point of light. A surface of some kind.

Antani / Toz: Response.

Sherlock: Well, ask them what they want?

Nilsen: What you think I’m doing?. ::With just a hint of sarcasm::

The farmer’s snow was no stranger to toeing the line with authority, but Iljor could not help but smirk at the retort- although he did his best to hide it as quickly as possible.

Antani: dicididiciami?

Etan: I think… they’re offering us a way out.

Truth be told, the first officer was uncertain. Though he was an anthropologist by training, his studies had been confined to humanoid civilisations. He had never studied non-humanoid species or different methods of communications. The images he was seeing were ambiguous- they could have many meanings.

Toz: Response.

Sherlock: And do they have a plan? Do they have an idea of how we can help?

Antani: dadaciami!?

In the periphery of his vision, Iljor could see the insectoid being moving, almost as if it were dancing. In any other situation, he would have been transfixed by the sight- but time was against them and they were surrounded by hostile Cheydalanga. There was no time to dwell on what it could mean.

 

Toz: Response.

Nilsen: Erm…

Sherlock: Are you going to share what your new friends are saying?

Etan: The images I’m seeing aren’t very clear. :: he said heaving a large rock into the mine cart. :: The meanings, I mean. I feel like I’m missing some nuance.

Antani: didichiamo?

Toz: Response.

Nilsen: Yeah, they got a plan, I think we can help.

Antani: didapiano!

Toz: Response.

Etan: I’m all ears. :: he said, prompting the Lieutenant to elaborate. ::

Nilsen: Yeah. ::Passes bucket to Sherlock:: eat up, its a conference call. I think that’s what the forest meant.

Iljor knew Aine well enough to know that she was becoming impatient with the crypticness. He could sympathise with her, as he too wanted to be out of the mine as quickly as possible.

Sherlock: I ate already. And what forest?

It was obvious that whatever was being shared had not been conveyed to Aine. Into that breach, Iljor offered an explanation.

Etan: When that being- :: he said, jerking his head in the direction of the insectoid.:: - communicated with us, they projected the image of a forest into our minds.

Antani: didaciafiorici!

 Toz: Response.

Nilsen, who had all but stopped making an effort to look busy as he communicated with the alien, received a sharp thump on the back of the head from a passing Cheydalanga. That prompted Iljor to drop several more rocks into the mine cart they were working on. At the same time, the insectoid stopped its unusual movements and resumed their work.

Nilsen:: Alright, alright, I hear you.

Sherlock: Now, is someone going to tell me what’s going on?

Antani: didicisxinci!

Etan: I don’t want to rush you, Lhando- but we don’t have the luxury of time. You are our best hope for working out what these insectoids want.

Weeks earlier and Iljor might have blanched at the idea of Lieutenant Nilsen being the crux of a plan, especially after the incident during the Denali Invitational. However, the young curly-haired man from Gault had taken great pains to improve his conduct- and his proved his worth during the recent sojourn to Alpha Brenkelvi II. The shift in his attitude had been as unexpected as it was impressive.

Toz: Response.

Etan: Did you not see the forest? Or the tunnel?

Sherlock: No, I saw nor heard anything. I really don't know what you're all talking about.

Antani: ciciami! Sbrighiami!

--

Commander Etan Iljor

Executive Officer

USS Octavia E. Butler

C239203TW0