USS Adelphi

NCC-26849

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Post 08: "Hold On!"

Posted on Sat Oct 10th, 2020 @ 4:20pm by Lieutenant Timmoz & Lieutenant JG Tovan Astril & Lieutenant JG Sor'aa & Ensign Sheldon Parsons & Ensign Adira Isan

Mission: Episode 2 - The Next Phage
Location: Runabout Denali; Island Complex
Timeline: MD01: 1030 hours

[Runabout Denali]
[Unnamed Planet]
[En route to alien complex]


"Hold on to something!" Timmoz grimaced with his grim warning, swiping a thin trickle of green blood from his eyebrow. His eyes squinted and air billowing at the harsh freeze, he flinched away while fingers tapped on the blast shield. The shattered remnants of Runabout Denali's protective enclosure sealed behind the sudden scalloping of light gray material that sealed the breach. Timmoz looked up as the sheer of wind stopped, flickering on the HUD display of the runabout. The small craft quaked again and Timmoz turned to Tov for a damage report.

"We've got breaches all along the hull, main power is fluctuating. Weapons are down!" Tov called out as his fingers tapped out sequences, between flickering outages on his console.

As the runabout — yet again — rocked on its axes, Parsons’ fingers were quickly splaying across his console. Though it was Tov who’d been asked for the damage report, it was the engineer who was responsible for actually seeing to those items listed. And boy is there a lot... the man inwardly sighed, the red glows around affected systems on his screen reflecting in his eyes. “Warp drive is offline anyway, so I’m shunting that power to shore up the shields, Lieutenant,” Parsons announced to Timmoz, his tone a bit harried as the vessel shuddered around them. “Should protect us from another hit or two if we’re lucky.”

Of course, then another hit actually came and the situation turned worse than the engineer had predicted. “Damnit!” he hurled, hitting his console with the butt of his palm: an overly angry gesture he’d never have exhibited before his recent emotional ordeal with killing five of his friends. The explosive reaction came not just verbally but washed out of him like a giant wave for any who could perceive such things. “We need to set down now. Main power just went offline: we’re running on auxiliaries. If we get hit again...” he let that thought hang heavy in the air: a warning and a prediction of their impending demise by whoever was down there firing on them.

The Denali had been sent to investigate a small island complex on the far western continent's southern shore. With a sensor sweep, they'd brought down energy weapons fire- something the native inhabitants weren't believed to have. The first shot hit their warp nacelle while a second was a strike at the ship's bow. Now, a third hit. The lighting flickered and stabilized in the cockpit and passenger area, aglow in red.

Timmoz twisted back to look at the passengers, "Brace for impact!"

Parsons looked around the cabin and quickly realized there wasn’t a whole lot to hang onto. Instead, he grabbed at the restraints he’d fastened about himself a couple of minutes prior. Knuckles white as he death-gripped the rigging, the young Ensign lowered his head into crash position as the ground rushed up at them. Though it wasn’t visible through the forward window, the computer was helpfully chiming how soon their impact-related doom would arrive.

Tov braced himself, taking as deep a breath as his pounding heart and the dire situation would let him. The countdown faded into the background as his eyes took in mounting damage reports from the computer on his console. The computers voice reached single digits, and Tov closed his eyes and did his best to relax his body, knowing from experience that it would help keep him from getting injured fatally.

As the situation progressed around her, Sor'aa reverted to her Academy training. Even though she was prepared for situations such as this in theory and holodeck simulations, the real thing was much scarier. She did her best to calm herself and mentally click off the steps of the checklist for a crash landing that was going through her head. Why in the world did they have both the chief and assistant chief on the same mission was still out of her comprehension. She had even brought it up at the meeting but noone seemed as concerned as her and was swept under the rug, as the human saying went. Now, as the final countdown ticked down and her checklist finished, it came back to her full force...the shoulda, coulda, woulda's. Memories of her family flitted through her mind. At least if this was her final demise, they would know from the journal entry she made right before going on this mission. In the last second she breathed a long sigh and made herself limp as the runabout hit the ground.

Adira Isan's excitement of going on this mission had easily become worry and grim realization as things went from bad to worse during the flight on the runabout. As the medical officer on this team mission, she knew things could get dicey but now an immanent crash landing on an unknown planet with probable hostiles. The crew already suffered from minor injuries that she'd need to handle once down on the planet, but now a good probability that major injuries and even death could result from this without her aid. She swore to herself in every language she knew to work out the frustration and get into pre-crisis triage mode. She had to survive this in order to make sure the others did too. As she strapped herself in, her mind quickly flashed through the procedures of both a crash landing and all possible outcomes from it. She readied herself for the job at hand as she also made herself go limp right before they hit the ground.

---

Thunder pulsed through the runabout as it drove a deep furrow into the ground. Tov didn't know if he went unconscious for a moment, or if the lights went out. When he opened his eyes next, everything was dark, aside from sparks periodically jumping from a breach on their starboard hull. He took a moment to breathe and check himself out. He hurt everywhere but didn't think anything was broken, just a lot of bruises. He unbuckled his harness, standing up slowly with the assistance of what used to be his console. "Sound off, everyone alive?"

"'Alive' is a strong word," Parsons groaned from the Engineering station, the sound punctuated by the unclipping of his own restraints. He rose gingerly from his seat, eyes fixed on his right leg as he tested his weight on it. Having only recently abandoned his cane -- no longer in need of its support -- Parsons seemed afraid he'd injured that same leg again. Thankfully, the limb bore his weight without giving way. "I think I'm going to be sore for weeks but better than the alternative," he sighed tremulously, stretching to test just how battered the slam-crash into the surface had left his muscles.

Timmoz grunted as he pulled himself up. As the pilot, he'd been the last to be able to assume any kind of a crash position. With a grimace that revealed his double set of top canines, the Orions caressed a growing contusion on his forehead, masked by blood-sticky curls. "Alive..." he said, then winced. He was holding his thin arm against his chest, his fingers lightly curled. "Pretty sure this is broken," he muttered as he extricated himself from his seat. "Isan, Sor'aa."

Isan came to with the sound of her name on the Orions lips. Doing a quick triage checklist for herself, she spoke "I'm ok, just a touch banged up," as she swiped her hand across her head and neck and continued, "seems like only a couple bruises and possible soreness later." She unbuckled her belt and grabbed her medkit to start checking on the others.

Isan went to the Antican female first since she was right next to her and started a scan. "Sor'aa is not so good. She's unconscious and bleeding, possible internal injuries. I need to get her prone for a more thorough scan." The Trill nurse replied grimly as she started to cut away the Sor'aa's harness with the scissors in her bag.

Tov's hands tapped various parts of his body unconsciously as he slowly moved from his console. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to push aside his headache so he could focus. He reached the weapons locker behind his console and opened it. He left the rifles where they were and grabbed a medkit. Careful not to move too fast, he walked forward to Timmoz's position. "Sit." Tov said sternly, his typical smile absent as he knelt down and opened the medkit, pulling out a medical tricorder. "Do we know where we are in relation to the nearby settlement?" He asked as he began to scan the injured finger and the hand around it.

Timmoz smirked, though his features stayed etched with pain. He attempted to flex the long fingers on his hand while the tricorder indicated to the Security man that the trouble was further down. Timmoz had a broken wrist. "I hope you know what you're doing," he teased the man, "But I know enough not to question the man with the knife." His brow perked, "In this case, tricorder."

He glanced back, sensing movement.

While Astril saw to Timmoz's injuries, Parsons produced a tricorder of his own. The little device happily chirped and trilled as the engineer scanned the surrounding area. "It looks like the settlement is at least several kilometers away, but...wait," his tone turned sour as the warbling beeps faded from existence. "I think my tricorder is malfunctioning. It just shut off," he looked up in surprise, eyes darting to a similar device in Astril's hands. "Um..." Parsons trailed off, concerned because the Betazoid's tricorder had also shut down, "something must be interfering with our tech. Hold on," he said, sliding back to a seated position at the Engineering console.

"Every hazard team member has to be a rated medic..." Tov trailed off as his tricorder went offline. He turned and looked at Parsons, holding the tricorder up for show.

"And I'm glad for that, LT Astril. I need help with Sor'aa. I need someone to hold her as I cut the last of the harness. Don't want her to fall to the floor, injured as she is, even though I need her prone to fully check her out." Adira answered and then said, "yep, my tricorder isn't working now either." She started speaking to herself and the malfunctioning tricorder in frustrated Trill.

Tov nodded and moved swiftly to assist. His vision swam momentarily, still recovering from the crash, but he made it over to Sor'aa's station and held her steady as Adira cut the restraints. He helped get her prone on a fairly clear section of the deck before returning to Timmoz.

With a few tap-tap-taps, he tried bringing up external sensors only for the display to suddenly wink off and then back on. "I think we're on the edge of some kind of dampening field," Parsons reported as Astril's tricorder suddenly came back to life, happy little trills resuming. He studied the sensor readouts which, akin to Adelphi's own attempts to scan the complex, were exceptionally vague. "Yeah, I'm sure of it, actually. Whatever that outpost is, it's the source of the field. I can make enough repairs to get us airborne again but we'll need to shut that field down before we try to take off again."

"Someone else isn't buying into your Federation values of First Contact," Timmoz drawled. He dashed his tongue between his lips, "Sensors went offline before the crash. But the last ping we got from the Navs was, we're about ten kilometers out." He turned to the engineer, "Parsons. What's the status of the transporter?" Timmoz's mind pinged with a notion of deceit, just as it had during the holodeck adventure.

Tov's pupils narrowed, though the black iris likely hid this from most people. He stood and closed the tricorder, putting it back in the case beside him as he stood. "You have a small fracture on the fourth metacarpal, and it looks like the wrist bones are impacted. We can splint you after we set the wrist..." He turned and looked at the others around them, his face a passive mask.

Parsons -- still sitting at the engineering console -- shook his head in response to Timmoz's question. "Even if transporters were operational, which they aren't," he added with a groan, "the lack of sensor resolution due to that dampening field would make it impossible to transport directly to the complex. If I can get them up and running soon, though," he noted, rising from his chair and moving towards the transport chamber at the rear of the cockpit, "we might be able to get a few kilometers closer, at least. Assuming the field..." his thought was cut off as everything in the cabin suddenly shut down, "doesn't keep doing that." His sigh was extreme -- certainly not befitting the normal behavior of a Starfleet officer -- as Parsons watched the systems flicker back on yet again. "If you'd like, sir, I can focus on repairs to the transporter and our engines while our field medic fixes up your hand?"

"And what about Coms? Can we hail the Adelphi? That transporter is going to be needed. Sor'aa isn't looking good but I can't fully tell how bad without a reliable tricorder." Nurse Isan spoke up as she triaged Sor'aa the best she could with what she could visibly see was wrong. As she said that, Sor'aa started to come to while laying on her back and let out a string of Antican.

"We can try to walk out of the range of the field, but the atmospheric disturbance would be tough to cut through." Tov turned to look at Timmoz. "Any ideas on if and how we can cut through that?"

"Even if we could," Timmoz raised his voice, "Sora'a is in no shape to move." He met eyes with Tov, "We have to go through to get out." With a quick dash of a green tongue between his lips, Timmoz looked at Parsons, "Whoever shot us down is going to send scouts to see who's left. And there's going to be more of them than there are of us. My guess is they're not interested in amiable chats either," He glanced around, "Parsons, If you can get the transporter to work even short-range... we can use it to create a diversion. We may not be able to get back to Adelphi but we can throw them off our scent."

The Orion chin-jutted to Tov, "Underneath the transporter console are pattern enhancers. You're with me. Parsons. Get that transporter working. When you detect the enhancers come online, beam to our location. Do you know how to set a phaser to detonation?" He asked, his eyes shifting to Isan and Sor'aa."

"I can move of my own free will. Let me up." The Antican discontentedly barked out in her gruff voice. As Sor'aa started to get up, Adira tried to make her stay down and replied calmly, "LTjg Sor'aa, please relax so I can assess your injuries better. You took quite a knock to the head. You have a concussion and lacerations from what I found before the tricorder went down. You could have sustained further, unseen injuries."

"Bah, I'm perfectly fine, I know my own body woman. I've been through worse than this and lived." Sor'aa replied defiantly. "I've got work to do." With that, she forced her way up off the floor and stood up, only to get a bit woozy and plopping back on her butt into her previously vacated seat.

The head nurse caught the assistant security chief and helped her to the seat. "See, I told you. Now, will you relax? That's an order." Isan repeated with a tiny smirk. With that, Sor'aa glared petulantly at the nurse and replied discontentedly, "You will not order me around Ensign. Not with our safety in jeopardy." She finished with a condescending sneer as she again got up out of her seat, a little slower this time before she continued a little more calmly, "This is not the time or place. I have a job to do and better damn well let me do it." With that, she turned to LT Astril and said, "At the ready sir, we better get out of here before the welcoming party arrives. Don't need a shootout if we can prevent one," as she grabbed a rifle and made sure her phaser was on her belt.

Isan was at a loss. She heard Anticans could be a bit aggressive but that was overly belligerent in her opinion. She glanced at the chief of security with indignation and a 'what the hell' type look, unsure as to what to do or say next. Maybe Astril could get through to her better. As the medical officer on this mission, she was concerned about everyone's health and well-being, even in this dire situation, and was only looking out for the team.

Tov's face was uncharacteristically unreadable while he watched the interaction. His eyes looked into Sor'aas, and then he nodded. "Very well, though once we find cover away from the disturbance, you will allow Nurse Isan to examine you more thoroughly." His voice wasn't raised, nor was it very inflected with any specific emotion, but the statement was final in his mind. He stepped over to the transporter console and grabbed the bundle of pattern enhancers. "Sor'aa take point. Let's move out." Tov lowered his mental shields and extended his telepathy into the world around him. He focused on no one, letting the presence of people impress upon his psyche but none of even the surface thoughts or emotions. He had no time to try to sort through those after a crash like that.

On the edges of his senses, Tov felt the presence of others. Far enough away that he couldn't get any idea of numbers yet. "We have people converging on our position, edge of my senses so we have a little time to get away."

Timmoz nodded once, "They move fast," the Orion observed, "Time to go then."

Parsons had nodded to Timmoz' command to work on the transporters and beam to the team's location once they were operational. Bending down, he'd gotten to work on the repairs, crouching into the tight space of the transporter bay to remove burned out components beneath the pads. But as Tov suddenly mentioned enemies on approach, the young engineer poked his head back up and rejoined the conversation. "So wait...you're leaving me behind, unguarded, in hopes I can repair the transporters and secure the runabout before they try to break in?" There was a look of both mild-panic and flaring anger in Parsons' eyes as he regarded Timmoz and the rest of the team. "What if they get here before I'm done? You'll what, just leave me to the wolves?"

Timmoz winced and rolled his fingers and hand experimentally, "Isan and Sor'aa are staying with you, Parsons." Timmoz reached to help Tov carry the enhancers, tucking one under his arm. "I'd suggest you lock the hatch. And hope they don't have disruptors." He pointed at the console, his Cluros smile nearly melted with the gravity of the situation and Parson' simmering anger, "Get it done and look for our signal." he nodded at Tov, "Let's go."

The young engineer looked intensely relieved at Timmoz's updated orders for Sor'aa and Isan. When Tov had ordered the other security officer to take point and head out, Parsons had become intensely fearful of being left behind without protection. But knowing that Sor'aa would stay behind to guard him as he worked brought much more peace of mind. "Understood, sir. I'll have the transporters back up as quickly as I can. Sir?" he asked, turning towards the Antican. "Would you mind securing the door while I continue my work here?" Not waiting for a response, Parsons crouched himself back down and resumed working on the transporters.

A Post By:

Ensign Aira Isan
Nurse

Ensign Sheldon Parsons
Engineer

Lieutenant JG Sor'aa
Security Officer

Lieutenant JG Tovan Astril
Chief of Security

Lieutenant Timmoz
Chief Helmsman

 

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