Lt. JG T’Fearne - I draw the line at Nappies
Teayl Thorn
((OOC: Skipping ahead to the more recent tags so I can get a sim in))
((Corridor, The Lid, Moon Sigma in orbit of Gas Giant A, Ross 580 System))
With the appearance of the Tholians they fell back toward the corridor just as Wren slipped on the damp floor, crashing straight into T’Fearne. The smaller Vulcanoid went down hard.
Harder than she expected.
A twelve-year-old body simply didn’t absorb impact the same way. She bounced slightly, instinct taking over as she tucked and rolled to keep the phaser from skittering away.
Wren: Sorry, I’m sorry! I- are you okay?
Wren's voice babbled in her ear as she writhed to untangle them and get to her feet with her weapon. To remain on the floor with a Tholian in the room meant death.
T’Fearne: ::grabbing at Wren to haul her up:: I’m fine, but get up and move.
O’Connor: We need to fall back
They staggered into the corridor.
Wren: I don’t know what’s stalling the weapons, but I have to make sure it’s safe to even fire them before I get started on that. I need to get back to the monitor, my PADD is with Shortrith
Shortrith: Take it…
The injured Klingon passed it carefully with their good arm and T’Fearne winced, mentally noting the injured teammate.
Rurat'dari: ::sarcastically:: Well done.
The Jem’Hadar woman’s voice cut in, dry and unimpressed.
Ian shot the woman a look.
O’Connor: Open to better ideas
T’Fearne crouched, both hands on her rifle as she covered their retreat, dust and mud coating her oversized suit, expression carefully neutral.
Near her, Ensign Wren’s emotions suddenly brightened.
Wren: Hang on, I know a trick, it’ll give us a couple seconds. ::pulling out a tricorder from her bag, fiddling with it a little:: Okay. Cover your ears and count to five
T’Fearne didn’t hesitate. Wren had already proven herself to be one of the quicker and more impressive ensigns she had met. She dropped the rifle to hang from a strap over her slim shoulder and clapped her hands over her helmet just as Wren triggered the tricorder burst.
A piercing sonic shriek filled the corridor. Nearby displays shattered; the Tholians recoiled.
Rurat'dari: What was that?
Shortrith: I… I don't know, actually. But it may have worked.
O’Connor: ::looking at ‘dari but patting Wren on shoulder.:: Effective.
They rushed fully into the hallway. Door closing behind them.
O’Connor: ::looking a T’Fearne:: See if you can get it to hold.
Leaving her weapon slung over her shoulder, T’Fearne stepped forward, smaller fingers working the manual lock overrides. It took a little longer than usual — the architecture was clearly old Romulan, she struggled with reduced hand strength and less reach to engage the antiquated mechanism.
Luckily the door to the reactor room was some sort of heavy duty reinforced door. A heavy clunk indicated a seal, followed by several scraping impacts and bangs echoed through the metal from the far side.
T’Fearne: Seal engaged. It will be temporary. They are likely to make their way around.
Nearby, Shortrith began treating their wound.
Rurat'dari: ::about the Tholians:: I was hoping to avoid that.
O’Connor: We don’t always get what we want.
Wren: Response
T’Fearne nodded slowly. Examining her rifle, she swapped in a new powercell.
T'Fearne: Weapons interference looks environmental to me. Either radiation, temporal distortion… maybe both.
Shortrith: ::slightly out of it:: Huh?
Rurat'dari: The Alliance knows you're here.
O’Connor: Yeah, and it won’t matter that we just want to help.
Wren: Response
T'Fearne: If this is a secret Lattice Alliance controlled facility…that would explain the presence of Tholians, actually…::looking young, but determined:: speed has become a priority. I recommend we grab any remaining personnel on our way out before this becomes a containment situation.
Shortrith: ::Grimacing, slightly sarcastic:: Lovely.
Rurat'dari: What's your next move?
Ian pulled out his own tricorder and scanned again.
O'Connor: There is still another technician near here. Definitely Bajoran life sign. We’d have to get past those Tholians though. Ideas?
Silence for a beat. Then T’Fearne spoke. Voice light, but analytical.
T'Fearne: We do what the Tholians are likely doing. We take an alternate route. ::pointing at the wall:: Structural crawlspaces or maintenance conduits. My current… reduced stature may actually be advantageous.
She glanced worriedly at Renaie, who was injured.
Wren/Shortrith/Rurat'dari: Response
O’Connor: Maybe, that’s a lot of crawling through rubble though.::to Shortrith:: You gonna be able to? or do you need to head back to the Creche? It’s ok either way.
If T’Fearne could split herself into two so she could watch the team and guard the Klingon she would, but unfortunately she had suffered an exotic radiation bath and all she got was shrunk.
Wren/Shortrith/Rurat'dari: Response
O’Connor: All right then. :: points forward with the mop:: Let’s go.
He pointed forward with the mop like a makeshift baton and T’Fearne ducked underneath it to access the crawlspace hatch in the wall.
With help they removed the panel revealing a cold dark space behind.
T'Fearne: ::swallowing:: I’ll take the forward defencive position.
((Creepy Crawl Space, The Lid, Moon Sigma in orbit of Gas Giant A, Ross 580 System))
They crawled in.
Dust coated everything. Cobwebs drifted across her helmet light. Even in a secret moon base in an uncharted system, spiders thrived in the dark corners of the universe. A tiny involuntary squeak escaped her before she clamped down on it. She kept moving into the dark, crawling on all fours, her rifle and source of illumination swaying along in front of her.
Wren/Shortrith/Rurat'dari/O’Connor: Response
After a moment she glanced back along the line at Ian.
T'Fearne: Commander? If another temporal shear hits…::beat:: Please try to avoid it. I draw the line at taking orders from someone in an infant waste-containment garment.
Wren/Shortrith/Rurat'dari/O’Connor: Response
T’Fearne allowed the faintest smirk.
They came to a fault in the crawlspace. A rent in the tunnel that faint light filtered through. The Security officer, slowed, dimmed her light and held up a fist to halt those behind her.
T'Fearne: ::whispering:: The tunnel ahead appears structurally compromised. Turn off your lights and go very slow and quiet.
And she continued crawling past the opening.
Wren/Shortrith/Rurat'dari/O’Connor: Response
[Tags / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14