08-28-2024, 06:51 PM
=== Engineering ===
As he walked around the engineering section, Niels used the tricorder readouts to begin to build a mental image of the Cardassian ship’s power system. It was a bit different from Starfleet’s standard layout, but still familiar enough that he felt confident that he knew how the system worked. More importantly, he understood the distribution system enough to know that it could handle the initial power transfer.
The console flickered in his periphery, catching Niels’ attention. Cindy was still there studying the screen. The ship had little power and there were only a few systems running, so he was curious as to what had suddenly come up. He clipped his tricorder to his belt and started to cross the room. As he did, Cindy reported about a power signature increasing. His brow furrowed as he tried to work out a possible cause. He quickened his pace, closing the distance to the console. Cindy was expressing her concerns, but never got to finish.
A low-pitched rumble like a thunderclap met Niels’ ears. The lights flickered. In a second, the Cardassian ship seemed to reject the presence of the Starfleet officers. The ship’s inertial dampeners were unable or unwilling to keep up with the sudden demands asked of them and did little to subvert the shockwave from the explosion. The deck plates beneath Niels’ feet moved both upward and sideways trying to buck him into the air. The gravitational generators conspired with them to launch the man into the air. He felt a wave of heat against his face, followed by a chilling draft, a sure sign that the containment force fields had failed.
Bright flashes of light forced Niels eyes shut. The sounds of metal being ripped apart by the blast filled his ears. He was blind and deaf to the world around him, sailing through the air with few points of reference to guide him. For a brief moment, this utter helplessness brought him a sense of peace. This was quickly replaced by the searing pain of his landing, adding a whole new cacophony of sounds and sensations into the confusion.
Niels growled in pain as his body slammed against a wall and dropped the floor with a resounding thud. His initial thoughts, an analysis of how the impact was softer than he expected, were immediately drowned out when his body began registering pain. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep and painful breath. Still disoriented, he tried to push himself up off the floor, but his body was not cooperating.
As the pain subsided, Niels’ brain attempted to deal with the torrent of information and regain control. The acrid smoke of burning wires made it through the chaos. It was a sobering scent, much like a cup of coffee shot directly into the veins, and one which signaled danger to a good engineer. The fog began to lift and Niels slowly got his bearings. He looked around for Cindy and through blurry vision could vaguely make out her form as she bent over him. Cindy was saying something. Niels could make out the movement of her lips, but the sound felt distant. Eventually, his brain caught up and translated the most important part.
“YOU'LL DIE IF WE STAY HERE.”
The words triggered a release of adrenaline and Niels summoned the strength to get back on his feet. It was clear from the pain that something was wrong, but any analysis of his injuries would have to wait until they were clear of the danger. With Cindy’s assistance, he hobbled toward the access tube. Commander Velaul’s voice came over his commbadge asking about what happened. Niels reached down to check if he still had his tricorder, but it was no longer attached to his belt. He was interupted by a coughing fit. Each cough sent pain through his chest and he groaned in response. After broadcasting some coughs and pain-filled groans over the channel, he offered an, [I’ll know more once we’re back aboard the Aquila,] then closed the channel.
As he walked around the engineering section, Niels used the tricorder readouts to begin to build a mental image of the Cardassian ship’s power system. It was a bit different from Starfleet’s standard layout, but still familiar enough that he felt confident that he knew how the system worked. More importantly, he understood the distribution system enough to know that it could handle the initial power transfer.
The console flickered in his periphery, catching Niels’ attention. Cindy was still there studying the screen. The ship had little power and there were only a few systems running, so he was curious as to what had suddenly come up. He clipped his tricorder to his belt and started to cross the room. As he did, Cindy reported about a power signature increasing. His brow furrowed as he tried to work out a possible cause. He quickened his pace, closing the distance to the console. Cindy was expressing her concerns, but never got to finish.
A low-pitched rumble like a thunderclap met Niels’ ears. The lights flickered. In a second, the Cardassian ship seemed to reject the presence of the Starfleet officers. The ship’s inertial dampeners were unable or unwilling to keep up with the sudden demands asked of them and did little to subvert the shockwave from the explosion. The deck plates beneath Niels’ feet moved both upward and sideways trying to buck him into the air. The gravitational generators conspired with them to launch the man into the air. He felt a wave of heat against his face, followed by a chilling draft, a sure sign that the containment force fields had failed.
Bright flashes of light forced Niels eyes shut. The sounds of metal being ripped apart by the blast filled his ears. He was blind and deaf to the world around him, sailing through the air with few points of reference to guide him. For a brief moment, this utter helplessness brought him a sense of peace. This was quickly replaced by the searing pain of his landing, adding a whole new cacophony of sounds and sensations into the confusion.
Niels growled in pain as his body slammed against a wall and dropped the floor with a resounding thud. His initial thoughts, an analysis of how the impact was softer than he expected, were immediately drowned out when his body began registering pain. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep and painful breath. Still disoriented, he tried to push himself up off the floor, but his body was not cooperating.
As the pain subsided, Niels’ brain attempted to deal with the torrent of information and regain control. The acrid smoke of burning wires made it through the chaos. It was a sobering scent, much like a cup of coffee shot directly into the veins, and one which signaled danger to a good engineer. The fog began to lift and Niels slowly got his bearings. He looked around for Cindy and through blurry vision could vaguely make out her form as she bent over him. Cindy was saying something. Niels could make out the movement of her lips, but the sound felt distant. Eventually, his brain caught up and translated the most important part.
“YOU'LL DIE IF WE STAY HERE.”
The words triggered a release of adrenaline and Niels summoned the strength to get back on his feet. It was clear from the pain that something was wrong, but any analysis of his injuries would have to wait until they were clear of the danger. With Cindy’s assistance, he hobbled toward the access tube. Commander Velaul’s voice came over his commbadge asking about what happened. Niels reached down to check if he still had his tricorder, but it was no longer attached to his belt. He was interupted by a coughing fit. Each cough sent pain through his chest and he groaned in response. After broadcasting some coughs and pain-filled groans over the channel, he offered an, [I’ll know more once we’re back aboard the Aquila,] then closed the channel.