PNPC LT Dukul Nibar — Get them Doggies Rollin'
Nolen Hobart
((A couple OOC notes before I begin. First, I used the incorrect rank for Nibar in a previous sim, due to an old Google Doc I hadn’t updated, it’s correct here. Second, I’m going to wrap us up here for Act 2, and send out a new sim for Act 3 soon, hopefully later today.))
((Corridor, Deck 8, Main Module, Deep Space 33))
Nibar and Weyler had climbed down eight decks from Ops, stalked a Tholian assault squad, and used a micro-torpedo launcher to blow up the last of them, all to rescue some Khitomer personnel who’d been working the evacuation of the station. And it all went swimmingly until the highest ranking among them unceremoniously fell to the ground in a heap.
Nibar: Is he alive?
El’Heem: Give me some space please. Secure the area; I don’t know, do something other than hover over me!
Nibar took another step back and gestured for Weyler to do the same.
Matthews: ::Getting up on his knees he pointed down the hall the last batch of Tholians had came from:: Last patrol came from there, left hallway, someone needs to scout ahead and make sure no more are coming from there. I’ll cover the doctor and commander from here in case anyone one tries to sneak up on us from the other direction. When you’re sure it’s clear, double back.
Nibar: We followed them here, so it should be clear. ::looking to Weyler:: Just the same, leave the ammo and grab a phaser. Don’t get shot.
The paralegal shook his head and set the micro-torpedo cache on the deck by the wall. Dukul would have done the scouting himself, but he was the ranking officer until Hobart got up of his rear end.
Weyler: You don’t actually have to say that last part, sir.
He didn’t, but he liked to. Felt ironic. Weyler walked off, with Ensign Matthews pointing his rifle down and past him. That made Lieutenant Nibar nervous, and if Ensign El’Heem hadn’t said something, he would have.
El’Heem: Not you, Matthews. ::continuing to work on stabilizing Hobart:: What happened before I arrived?
Matthews: Things were going fine until our position was blown, there was a fire fight, but the commander wasn’t hit from what I saw. Before you got here, he was responsive and seemed fine. Maybe he suffered a crash in adrenaline when the fighting was over? I’m kind of feeling it myself now.
Nibar: That’s more than I saw.
Doctor El’Heem perched himself over Lt. Commander Hobart’s motionless body and began pushing on the man’s chest.
El’Heem: 1 ::press:: 2…3 ::press:: 4 ::press:: 5…6…7…8 ::press:: 9…10 ::press, then breathlessly:: He mentioned Sencha. It must be that if he wasn’t injured during the assault.
Matthews: If the shot you gave us was blocking the effects of the wave until the adrenaline wore off. Then I’d guess that Comander Hobart suffered some sensory overload. Depending on his telepathic level. My general baseline panic in this situation for example would have hit the poor man so hard. I probably owe him a get well basket.
Dukul’s eyes flashed from beneath his brow ridges as he followed the conversation, piecing things together. El’Heem had given them inoculations. That should have mitigated the effects of any Sencha weaponry, though it might not have stopped it completely. He slung the strap of his mobile artillery piece across his chest, the weight of the weapon pressing down uncomfortably against the cloth over his neck frill.
Nibar: When I left Ops, they didn’t have anything big enough to use it, but it was a pretty long climb down.
El’Heem: 10 ::press:: 9 ::press:: 8…7…6 ::press:: 5 ::press:: 4 :press:: 3…2 ::press:: 1 :press, pop:: If there’s Sencha here then…
Matthews: :Wincing at what had to be a rib cracking:: They’ve gotten their weapon off here. Good thing you’ve dosed everyone so quickly, probably save a lot of lives, like the commanders. He’d be worse off if he took a full hit.
At the sound of cracking bone, Nibar looked on with growing concern. A broken rib was better than being dead, true enough, but he wondered how much longer it would take, and whether El’Heem would need help.
Nibar: Need me to take over, Ensign?
El’Heem: Pulse is stabilizing, BP will stabilize with it. ::standing to look at the others.:: We need to get him, the Caitian, and Bobbart somewhere secure where I can treat them.
Matthews: ::eyeing the unconscious FO:: Neither is ready for transport, are they? Unless we physically got them aboard a shuttle?
Nibar: That’s a long walk.
Let alone the climbing that would be involved. They could get around the station with site-to-site transport, but that required having control over the transporter rooms. With the way the Lattice forces seemed to have near free reign over sections of the station, he couldn’t say for sure how much the picture had changed from what he’d seen on scanners. The only other option was to hoof it.
El’Heem: No, no, we’re not evacuating anybody in this state. Our crew is crippled, and our commanding officer is down.
Matthews: We can get them to the sickbay on this level. Stabilize them and then get them to the transporter room for evacuation. It is risky to teleport them from there, but I can go ahead to the transporter room and get it ready – you can let me know if we can transport them from sickbay directly or get them to me?
El’Heem: Sickbay should be a priority, in my opinion. The commander is stable and can be moved, he should wake up soon when his mind acclimatizes to the Sencha. Although I can’t be completely sure, we didn’t learn anything about it in the academy….The Caitian on the other hand…::hanging his head:: I’m uncertain she’s going to make it if we don’t get to sickbay. She’s likely already suffered irreparable injury.
The Cardassian shook his head. They had more than one wounded? Dragging Hobart up would have been trouble enough.
Nibar: There’s a small medbay one deck up. If that’s your goal, better go up and bring supplies back down, unless you feel like carrying them both up a Jefferies tube ladder. ::frown:: It can be done, but not easily.
Matthews: Time’s running short, it seems. We might not have a chance to get to sickbay, Doctor, Lieutenant and Weyler. We should head for the transporter room on this level. There’s still docked ships we can take, legally! Let’s go. Sorry doctor, I’ll be as careful as I can, but you and Jacin will have to work fast with them when you’re aboard the transport.
Dukul nodded, that was the best plan. He didn’t know if the transporter worked. If it did (or if they could get it to work) they’d be able to send the wounded somewhere safe. He didn’t know whether there were any ships left in the defense group, or in the civilian contingent that had been held back. But they could get somewhere else on the station, too.
El’Heem: It would seem we have no choice. I’m on board.
Matthews: ::to Nibar:: If I can’t get you guys onto a ship with other personnel, can either of you fly them out of here?
Nibar: I’m a lawyer, Ensign, not a bus driver. ::holding up a hand:: But I think we’ll be able to get them somewhere—
With great violence, the station interrupted their conversation. As the deck shifted beneath him, the weight of the launcher on his back pulled him to the floor, whereupon he felt all the wind knocked out of his lungs. Gravity, fickle in its timing, seemed to shift around them, briefly, and then reassert itself while Dukul focused mostly on trying to catch his breath.
Matthews: Ffffuuu-::his translator fizzed and popped and static covered what he said as he shook his head, climbing back to his feet.:: Everyone okay?
El’Heem: ::standing and fixing his uniform:: I’m ::beat: fine.
Coughing, Lieutenant Nibar pushed himself up off the floor, and let the launcher roll off his back, clattering to the deck. Something big had hit the station, but he had no way of knowing what it was until he was able to check in with Ops.
Nibar: ::coughing:: I’m here.
Matthews: Doctor, how’s the commander?!
El’Heem: He’s fine too. We need to move now though. Let’s grab that spare stretcher.
Matthews: Shoot, the others. ::He tapped his badge:: =/\= Lieutenant Jacin? Can you hear me? How are you and our patients? =/\=
Despite his state, Dukul couldn’t help but chuckle internally at the phrasing. Had he confidence in his lungs, he might have scolded the Ensign that they should only shoot the enemy.
Matthews: ::The come still open:: =/\= I’m doubling back to help with the inured, clear ff the second gurney, we’ll need it for the commander, Jonesy! Help Bobbart if they’re unable to walk themselves. =/\=
Jones: =/\= Roger. Bobbarts not bleeding so much now, think she can make it. We’ll be ready. =/\=
Dukul wondered at why the other Lieutenant, whom he didn’t know was still there, didn’t respond. But the reason couldn’t have been good. As Ensign Matthews ran off in the direction that the Tholians had been pushing, he heard the echo of footsteps coming up behind.
Weyler: They’re all gone! I don’t know where they went, but the deck seems clear.
Nibar: Either beamed out, or regrouped to somewhere fortified before whatever just hit us.
El’Heem: Well…to the transporter then? I’m Ras by the-
Stergis: =/\= Stergis to any defense team...report in. =/\=
The stationwide comms crackled to life, and so did Lt. Commander Hobart’s combadge, which sounded to be picking up some chatter. Ensign El’Heem—or “Ras”—knelt down to listen. They waited in silence for his summary.
El’Heem: It sounds like we’re down but not out. Our only option is the transport room, Ops is not a direct line from here and as it is, I think our way to the transporter is going to require some creativity since all defense teams are retreating.
Nibar: Hitting our forces hard, then. That explains where everybody went down here.
Weyler: Should we help?
El’Heem: My votes with avoiding contact at all costs. We can’t afford anymore confrontation, and we need to get off this ship before it sinks.
Nibar: Agreed, but it hasn’t sunk yet, and Commander Stergis isn’t liable to allow it.
Matthews and Jones came around the corner bearing a Caitian on a stretcher, the one whom Ensign El’Heem feared was not much longer for this world, Dukul gathered. Behind them limped another marine, carrying a folded up stretcher.
Matthews: Bobbart, you sure you’re okay to move on your own?
Bobbart: Yes sir, ::To prove her point she took the lead, limping forward.::
It was good, too, because they only had the two stretchers, as far as Dukul could tell.
Matthews: You able to lead us to transporter room 3 sir? Lead the way!
Nibar: Eyes peeled, let's go.
The group gathered, and loaded up the unconscious command officer, and set off. Dukul grabbed one end of the second stretcher, with El’Heem at the other, and with Weyler on point, the column began their trek towards the transporter, without any idea as to its state.
NT/End of Act 2
———
Lieutenant Dukul Nibar
JAG Officer
Deep Space Thirty-Three
as simmed by
Lieutenant Junior Grade Nolen Hobart
Engineering Officer
USS Arrow (NCC-69829)
A240001NH3