Temple of the Hundred Hands
Episode Name: Temple of the Hundred Hands Written By: Ghorev Cast: Albertz, Caeli, Donavon, Ghorev, Javits, Medes, Poole and Spider. Produced By: Starfleet Directed By: Spider Aired On: Sun Jul 20 20:07:47 2003 Stardate: 53375.1
Time: Sun Jul 20 14:39:00 2003
Stardate: 53374.6
Ghorev moves through the foliage, testing the durability of his outfit and the 'pull' of his /tishrul/. The recurved Andorian composite bow seems to work just fine, and Ghorev plants a holographic arrow or two into a holographic tree branch as a test. "Alright. This will do nicely. As the rest of you can see, I've had the technology and mindset of the day replicated fairly closely with the more primitive scanners and laser pistols available. I'll make do with the bow, however, as I will be the native guide."
Caeli meanders over to pick up one of the pistols and stick it in his belt-sash, following suit with one of the scanners. Looking on the plethora of weapons, he takes a second pistol and sticks it in the sash at the small of his back, just to be safe. "Alllrighty. Can't wait."
Poole stands out of Ghorev's way, obviously, not wanting to end up with an arrow through the head or something. She walks over to the weaponry, collecting a laser pistol and slipping it into the holster at her waist. Apparently, before leaving the archway, she had it recreate her family weapon, as the scabbard across her back contains what looks like her ancestral sword. "Lovely weaponry Akeen. Thanks..." Mulling over some of the other weapon choices, she selects a smaller blade and sheath, securing it at her ankle, underneath her pants. All adventur-fied, she sets her hands on her hips, inspecting herself. "This should do nicely... yes. Oh, Thea, you look so cute."
Medes shoots Poole THE LOOK. You know the one. It's the I AM NOT CUTE SHUT UP look. Thea practically has a patent on it. She adjusts the set of her bowler on her head as she looks over the weaponry and mumbles some sort of Bajoran quasi-epithets. You know. The sort of things that Bajoran parents say when they think the kids /might/ be in earshot. "Thanks, Boss," she finally mumbles, picking herself out a laser pistol and stuffing it into her belt before picking up a scanner and stashing that likewise. "Looks cool."
. o O Medes thinks "Do I look /cute/? No. I look like a scruffy, plucky mechanic. I am so not cute."
Caeli adjusts the slate grey beret to sit correctly on his head and ambles over to Poole, beaming at the little blonde human. "Hey, Gwen. Ya all ready?"
Ghorev says, "As far as the archetypes go, here is the scenario:" He gestures to indicate Poole. "Miss Guenevere Saturn, daughter of the famous-but-eccentric Doctor Elijah Saturn, one of Earth's greatest scholars of xeno-archaeology. Doctor Saturn and his Ganymede Irregulars -- a team of students and consultants he brings together in an ever changing roster for ad hoc adventures -- have been missing for some time, since embarking on a quest to find the Temple of the Hundred Hands, a mythical temple to one of the ... more colorful of the Six Hundred Gods of the Andorian Emasha Yul pantheon. Miss Saturn has never known her father to be gone for so long without word, and has gathered some companions to help her investigate."
Medes raises her eyebrows as she looks aside at Poole, and then looks back at Ghorev with a few blinks. Thea's expressions tend to be the sort of thing one can read as a neon billboard might be read. This one says: oh dear. What /has/ the Boss done, giving Gwen that part? What she /says,/ however, is, "Right."
Ghorev gestures to indicate Caeli. "Raymar. You are Miss Saturn's inscrutable alien sidekick. Nobody actually knows what planet you're from, and you do not volunteer such information, despite the fact that you are quick to quote your people's great philosophers and scholars. This becomes rather an annoyance, and yet Raymar seems oblivious to the fact that everyone around him would rather he either speak plainly or shut up. When the time comes to bash something, however, most people are glad he's around."
. o O Medes thinks "Well, well. Caeli be annoying. Who woulda thought?"
"Yea, Zip, I'm all ready to go... nice hat," Poole grins up at the Bolian, standing next to him as Ghorev begins to speak. As she's indicated and named, she looks /pleased/. "Guenevere Saturn... I love the name." She chuckles when Zip is named, sending a look to Medes. Oh yes, what /has/ Ghorev done.
Albertz's combadge chirrups and a voice issues forth, "Ensign Albertz, you're needed in the infirmary, on the /double/." Hamish frowns a little in disappointment and hustles on out of the holodeck with a few mumbled apologies to the gathered officers.
Albertz steps out of the holodeck.
Albertz has left.
Caeli nods solemnly as he listens to his archetype's description, and then just beams. If Medes is a neon sign, he's a children's picture book... you can't possibly misunderstand him. He seems quite pleased. "Got it."
. o O Caeli thinks "I wish I'd paid more attention in Ms. Ilyax's philosophy class."
Medes glances aside at Caeli, then at Poole, and baaaaarely contains a 'Gee, who woulda thought /that/?' roll of her eyes, though she's grinning nonetheless. This seems to be just what she needs, for whatever reason, at this particular moment. Her eyes flicker back to Ghorev, then, as she awaits his next pronouncement.
Ghorev turns to indicate Medes. "Tritium Sally. A former street urchin once rescued by Doctor Saturn from Orion smugglers. She has repaid him by keeping the wealthy academic-philanthropist's many space and ground craft in perfect order. Occasionally, when the need arises, she even serves as his backup chauffeur and pilot. THis is rare, as Doctor Saturn and the Ganymede Irregulars still consider her a 'little tomboy', and never bring her on adventures outside of Sol System. Which is why, of course, she's free right now to come and help rescue them. She is about as subtle as a Tellarite with a Toothache, but her loud exclamations do not mask the fact that she is smarter than she lets people think."
Poole stifles a laugh and tries her best not to grin like a goof... and ends up biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Nope, nothing to see, she turns, trying to hide her expression.
Caeli doesn't even bother trying. He grins like a goof. Getting in character, it seems... or was he already there?
Medes drops her head forward and rubs the base of one hand over her forehead, a sheepish sort of grin on her face. Touche. "Gotcha, Boss," mumbles short-and-scruffy, the tops of her ears turning red; for once, that's conveniently mostly concealed by the brim of her bowler as her head's tipped forward.
Ghorev says, "I, of course, am Ughol Kaleth," -- he pronounces it 'OO-ghol Kah-LETH' -- "heir to the /atlolla/ of Keth Kaleth. Obviously, my portrayal of the Kaleth is meant to be the alien stereotype of the 'Beast Clan' as offworlders normally view the Kalethi, not how they truly are. So please, if you ever meet a son or daughter of Keth Kaleth, remember this. For our enjoyment, today, however, Ughol *is* what the Kalethi are accused of -- a 'back-to-nature' 'in-touch-with-his-inner-beast' self, a master survivalist and hunter, and friend to the beasts of the tundra and equatorial jungle. He has agreed to guide you into the recently discovered valley where Dr. Saturn and his team were last seen heading." He hefts his /tishrul/. "Also, Ughol doesn't use a laser pistol."
Ghorev says, "Are there any questions?"
Caeli raises his hand, asking somewhat hesitantly, "So the only known species in the galaxy are supposed to be Terran and Andorian?"
"None from me... Let me get into character..." Poole looks about at the others, a mad grin creeping into place on her face. Then, sounding extremely distraught, she says, "We -simply- must find daddy. This jungle is full of dreadful and horrible beasts... and /icky/ things."
Ghorev shakes his head at Caeli. "No. This would be taking place, for those of you who are history buffs, about 200 years ago -- the late 2170s. Earthers have met a few alien races, and tensions have cooled enough for men like Dr. Saturn to make careers out of studying their history and society and ancient cultures.
. o O Medes thinks "Earthers?"
Medes just kind of scuffs one of her heels absently and mumbles aside to Poole. Medes whispers to Poole, "I don't know that I have so much of a character to get into, so I think I'm ready." She listens to the explanations, though her brow does wrinkle up at one point, it smooths back out again.
Caeli nods, cracking his knuckles. "And we're happily raging wars across three continents. Lovely." His face grows somewhat more contemplative, and he rattles off, "Of all things, beauty is the most fairly distributed: everyone thinks he is so well supplied with it that even those who are the hardest to satisfy in every other respect never desire more of it than they already have."
Ghorev says, "Remember, however, the resources of the day -- ships don't go much past what we could consider Warp 3 or 4. Subspace communications exists but the booster relay network we enjoy today has not been laid down. Deflector shields don't exist, but metallurgists are now making the discovery of the charged alloys we take for granted." He nods. "Now, as our story opens, we have just reached the jungle. Since jungles aren't supposed to exist on Andoria, this is something ... awe-inspiring. I must confess I borrowed the idea of the terrain heavily from Terran-style adventure stories -- 'pulp', I think it's called -- though the Temple of the Hundred Hands really was a feature in many similar Andorian novels. No two authors could ever agree on where it was supposed to be, however."
Ghorev looks around. "If everyone is ready, then..."
Poole smiles at Medes, it being brought on by whatever she whispers. She nods once and says, "It seems we're ready to embark then. ... lead on, Mr. Native Jungle Guide."
Caeli nods in affirmation. "Let's go."
Medes kicks the ground once more, and then knocks off the sheepishness with a clearing of her throat; if it's not acting, well, then, she'll just have to be as Medes-y as possible. Medes squared, or something. "Yep. Ready to go."
Ghorev slips 'into character', then. He takes a perch on a tree that has fallen from some kind of jungle storm. He has his /tishrul/ in hand, arrow at the ready. "We cannot proceed deeper into the jungle in that craft of yours, Miss Saturn. Take what you need from it, and then lock it up tight. Must continue on foot from here."
"Must we?... the jungle looks so ... dangerous," Oi. That's a deep thought. Poole stares off into the jungle a moment, stealing her resolve... "Daddy is in there though, so that's where we are going. Raymar...' to Caeli, "Grab the packs... And Sally... if you'd secure our transports?"
Medes doesn't even have to /try/ for the wistfully protective glance back at the transports in question. But. But. She didn't even get to play with them! Or drive them! Or! "Yeah, kay," she replies with a heavy sigh before going about doing just that with the usual Medes perfectionism. She stops, turns about, and hangs out of one's doorway by her hands; one on either side of the doorframe, torso leaned forward, vest hanging off of her wiry frame. "Uh. Don't you, like, /want/ anything from the transports? Gear, or... stuff?"
Ghorev says, "I will not lie to you. It is very dangerous. My keth has lost six warriors here since the valley was discovered. The beasts of the jungle are quicker and more ferocious than the fat-insulated creatures of our mountains and tundra." He frowns. "Even the /canya/ fight like /altirithi/." A shake of the head. "You will all have to be on your guard, and mind where you step."
Caeli nods slowly, and moves to heft his own, and Poole/Saturn's packs, one over each shoulder. As he secures the strap, he says knowingly, "Work saves us from three great evils: boredom, vice, and need." The big blue pack mule steps back over to Poole's side, looking slightly more encumbered but no more uncomfortable.
"... I just know my boots are going to get dirty," Poole sighs, as if quite put upon. She blinks over Medes' way, "No... nothing from the transports. We have everything we need in our packs... and we should move quickly... or daddy might get eaten by a cany... can... /canya/." Biting her lip, she steps closer to the guide. "We need to find him... he probably found the temple. I just hope their weren't any big cats... he's dreadfully allergic to cat hair."
. o O Medes thinks "If you keep this up, Gwen, I am going to smack you."
Ghorev does not answer in words. He simply sets off, coming down from his perch and moving like a walking shadow through the tree cover. "This way, then. We must hurry. At nightfall, the jungle's danger is magnified greatly."
Medes just sort of stares at Gwen when she puts that first (and then the last) sentence to the air, rather as if she were a creature more baffling than any alien ever encountered. Even a canya. "Uh. Right." And, shaking her head, she finishes closing up the transports before dropping down and cramming her bowler back down on her head. "I think, /somehow/, cat allergies are the least of your worries." She scoots forward to follow after Ughol in a plucky sort of fashion. If you're going to have an idiom...
Caeli follows along in observant silence, always within a meter or so of Poole.
Poole follows after Ughol, watching where she steps. If only to avoid getting mud on her boots.
There's no real way to avoid the mud totally, of course. It's *everywhere*, except where the ground-cover of plant life is thick enough to have absorbed most of it. Through the muggy terrain our intrepid heroes slog, occasionally having to pause to swat away what passes for flying insects in the sole jungle valley on Andoria.
"Positively detestable... the forests on Alpha Centauri are really much more lovely. Why couldn't daddy have gotten lost there?" Poole continues on, frowning at her boots. "I just bought those... damn." Oh well, she waves away some of the mosquito-type pests flying about her face and wipes at the little veneer of sweat on her pale brow. "Are we there yet, Mr. Ughol?"
. o O Medes thinks "Going. To kill."
Caeli glances to Poole with a knowledgeable smile. "Patience, Guenevere, is the mark of one destined to achieve their goals." Just the same, a sweat is breaking out under the brim of his beret.
Ghorev, having paused by a small pond, looks up from his crouch. "I don't know where 'there' is, Miss Saturn. However, these tracks here are .... remarkably fresh." He considers them, then adds: "Stay back, or if you must approach, try to step on rocks rather than the mud. I must examine these more closely."
Medes looks back over her shoulder and replies, "Obviously, if it was somewhere pleasant, he wouldn't have gotten lost," a baffled expression on her face. She, of course, creeps up on the rocks, peering at the tracks with entirely unconcealed curiosity.
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Planetside Survival skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
Poole furrows her brow at Ghorev, stepping closer. She /just/ manages not to step through the tracks on her way to the rock. "We simply /must/ hurry, Mr. Ughol."
Caeli remains with Poole, of course, long strides carrying him over the tracks with little difficulty. He doesn't bother repeating his mantra about patience.
Ghorev looks up at the adventuress sharply for a moment, then returns his gaze to the tracks. "Interesting. But the ratio is all wrong." He looks up. "How many were in your father's party?"
"Twelve... I think..." Poole does have to think on that. "Well, I don't rightly know the /exact/ number." She does more of that pouty lip biting thing as she peers about into the jungle.
Medes squints at the tracks for a moment and then looks up and around, her forehead crinkling up in confusion. Hazel eyes peer out from beneath her bowler's brim for a moment, and she reaches into her belt for her scanner; this is, after all, a perfect excuse to play about with her antique scanny doohickey, here.
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Personal Equipment skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
<CONTEST> Poole contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!
Ghorev is still studying the ground. "Look here. I show only seven distinct sets of tracks here. And yet, not 30 meters back, there were all twelve. Somewhere, in 30 meters' distance, five men stopped leaving tracks. Why do you suppose that is?"
Caeli turns to look at the tracks, now. "Something removed their feet from the ground," he observes. A moment later he surveys the bushes as if looking for that something.
Poole stares glassily out into the jungle as she was doing, sightseeing and all. Then she seems to lock onto something and murmurs to her closest companion, the blue non-Ghorevy one. "The trees. There is something up there and it's moving around. I think it's looking down at us. Maybe it's one of those smart yellow parakeets?"
Medes peers at her scanner and frowns; she smacks the side of it irritably and mumbles. "Well, yeah, question being, what? I'm somehow doubting that they spontaneously gained the power of flight, though, admittedly, that'd be a smashing thing to get." She glances sidelong at Poole and narrows her eyes for a moment, as if to say, 'did you hear that? I just said 'smashing.' I blame you.'
Ghorev looks up. And his bow comes to level to point at whatever 'Guenevere' has found in the treeline. "The trees. Of course. They were taken into the trees." He looks all kinds of angry and paranoid now.
The sound of metal on polymer is audible as Zip draws one of the laser pistols, and angles it up as well. "Perhaps we would be wise to follow the advice of Edur the Sage, and ensure that we do not become victim to the same pitfalls that claimed our predecessors?"
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Personal Equipment skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
"Uh. There are... people. Out. There. Small. Ghelnoids, actually," Medes notes a few seconds after pointing her scanner in the direction that Poole was looking in. "Multiple, thus, people." She turns slowly around, scanning their perimeter.
Poole abandons tact, stepping up to the highest rock and calling upwards, "You there... Yes, you, I can see you. Come on down here this instant and give me back my daddy." Cue crossing her arms and looking petulant, a wink is spared Medes' way.
Ghorev says, "Stay in the circle," as a warning. "If whatever those little people are, they are the ones who took some of your father's party, we should avoid the treeline! Make them come to us." He raises the /tishrul/ and prepares to fire. "Come out and speak!"
Poole steps back, putting her back to Caeli's. She reaches for her sword and laser pistol, sword in her off left hand. "You heard Mr. Ughol. Come out you louts!"
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
Caeli continues his scanning of the surrondings on his side of the Poole-Caeli defense formation, pistol at the ready, murmuring, "Each individual misfortune, to be sure, seems an exceptional occurrence; but misfortune in general is the rule."
There is a ululating noise, from a single hidden throat, and suddenly, an odd object slices through the air. A cross between a pick, a dagger, and a throwing axe, it lands with a wet >shhhhuck< into the ground somewhere between 'Guenevere' and the rock from which she just stepped. A thin length of vine trails behind the weapon, into the base of the treeline, as if serving as a guidewire.
Medes squints into the trees, but a bead of sweat runs into her eyes, and, muttering mild profanities, she rubs her eyes, turning her face into her shoulder. After wiping her eyes free of sweat, she seems about to say something when she's cut off by the yodeling cry and the weapon's damp *schluck* into the ground. "Erk."
Poole stares indignant and wide-eyed at the weapon, "How /savage/. Now really, is that how civilized people act in this primeval jungle?" Said with a straight face: she should have been an actress. "Come on out. You have my daddy and I want him back." The laser pistol is waved widely in front of her as she stares after the vine, looking for someone to come on down.
<CONTEST> Poole contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
It's clearly obvious to the Intrepid Heroes that, in response to the threats and immediately following the launching of the odd-looking weapon, the odd and mostly concealed little people in the trees start to flee away, leaving the funny looking blade and the vine attached to it behind.
Caeli breaks away from Poole to furrow his brow, crouch, and examine the weapon. "Perhaps we should follow the vine?"
Well, that simply won't do. Guenevere Saturn puts her sword and pistol away and follows the vine to the treeline. She hesitates only a moment, but... then daddy might be in there, so she starts on in.
Donavon steps through the doors to Holodeck II.
Donavon has arrived.
Caeli looks up immediately, following after Poole more out of reflex than anything else. And tries to hold her back. "Guenevere... the purpose of a guide, by definition, is to lead, and not to follow. Allow ours this courtesy." Or I'll stun you. If these things can be set to stun.
Poole pauses and looks back to Caeli, pouting. "Well then... daddy is in there. Mr. Ughol. Please lead the way." She steps back and draws her blade again, adding absently, "I just know they've big cats guarding him... and he's so allergic."
Ghorev grunts by way of response. And hops down from his own perch, keeping his /tishrul/ trained on the treeline, the arrow ready for release. After a few moments, he is into the treeline sharply, and following the obvious trap.
Caeli isn't terribly pleased with the course they're taking, but hey, at least Ghorev will take the first bullet, right? He follows along pistol still held warily.
Javits goes home.
Javits has left.
Ghorev makes his way deeper along the 'side trail' and the vine-lure, and then, stops. "Miss Saturn, don't come any closer."
Poole pouts at that and peers forward anyways, "What is it? What's in there?... Big cats?"
Medes tags along after Ghorev like a wannabe sidekick; while this isn't much different from what she normally does, it's a quite a bit more obvious now. She stops when he does, and squints her eyes, peering forward.
Caeli plays the omnipresent part of Poole's sidekick/bodyguard, itself ironic in that his sidekick is conspicuously absent. He, too, pauses, but with his free hand pulls Poole backward a bit. Because that's what benevolent alien warrior-philosopher sidekicks do.
The other end of the vine is 'tied' around a human ... a dead human. His head is at an odd angle, clearly indicating a broken neck, and there are numerous shallow cuts and bruises. "Do you know this man?" asks the Andorian guide.
Poole makes a face, then covers her mouth, "Oh my... it's one of my father's men." She looks pointedly away.
Medes tilts her head to one side, looking at the man's face, and then wrinkles up her nose. "... ew." But she is plucky, and thus does not look as if she might become ill. She just sort of blinks.
Caeli muses as he lowers his pistol somewhat, "Even at our birth, death does but stand aside a little. And every day he looks towards us and muses somewhat to himself whether that day or the next he will draw nigh. "
Ghorev says, "Not today, let us hope. I think this is our warning, however." He pauses. "We should be prepared for violence if we press on."
Medes wrangles her phaser pistol out of her belt with only minimal comedic difficulty, nodding her head once to Ghorev; the tiny female glances up at the body again, swallows hard, and mashes her hat back down on her head with the heel of her scanner-holding hand. Speaking of which... she points it up at the body for a moment before scanning the area around them.
"They took daddy... and they killed some of his men... I can't leave without father," Gueneviere shows some back bone now (or perhaps Poole is slipping out of character just a tad). "They'll taste my blade if they do... daddy had the finest swordsmen in Europe teach me... Let's go."
<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Poole contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Personal Equipment skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!
Medes points her scanner at the reeds and blinks several times. "There are. Uh. There are lifesigns under those reeds. And they're hollow. I think. Uh. I think it's a pretty safe bet that at least some of your father's men are under there." Her eyes widen like saucers and she points out some of the reeds. "There, and... there and there."
Caeli takes a tentative step forward, craning his neck to try and get a better look. "And the rest of them?"
"Why would they do this to my father's men?" asks Poole, looking to Ughol. "Can we get them out of the muck?"
Ghorev says, "We could," he nods. "Step lively. And," with a hawklike smile, "it will require some digging."
"I... I don't know. There are only... four... maybe six of them down there." A pause. "Uh. I'm guessing four, actually. Those would probably be four of the five footprints that disappeared. I'm guessing that he... would be the fifth," Medes notes, before shoving her scanner back into her belt.
Oh. Digging. That means the laser pistol has to go back into his belt. And so Zip lowers his weapon, and steps towards the edge of the muck.
Poole looks back at Ghorev, plunging her weapon into the ground (obviously not too near or too far from the buried men) and looks to Caeli. "Would you be so kind as to hand me the small hand shovel I brought in my pack? Just like gardening back home."
Except not.
Ghorev says, "This could very well be a simple ploy to delay us." The Mighty Hunter And Guide continues to scope out the treeline. "Perhaps one of us should stay on guard."
Caeli summarily unslings both packs, hands a small gardening trowel to Poole, and brings out a full-sized collapsable shovel for himself.
Medes didn't bring a pack. Ah well. "Uh. I guess that should probably be you," she notes aside to Ughol, before guiding Caeli and Poole to the first reed under which she found a lifesign. "Be careful. Don't want to crush the reed before we uncover their faces. That's their only air." A pause. "Well. Yeah, it could. But we can't just leave 'em, either."
Ghorev nods and stands the watch, keeping one eye peeled for danger.
Caeli commences digging, taking care of the real work while leaving the delicate excavation of reeds and faces to Poole's more appropriate instrument.
Medes keeps an eye on her scanner; clumsy it might be, but she attempts to keep an eye on the biosigns in turn, keeping an eye out should any situation become critical.
Poole digs rather fervently, ignoring the nasty muck that starts building up under her manicured nails.
Several minutes pass while the three work hard at excavating the buried members of the Ganymede Irregulars. Soon, all four are 'safe', though they all remain unconscious, unnaturally so.
Caeli replaces the shovels in the pack, the packs on his back, and the pistol in his hand. "We cannot leave them here, but they will weigh us down."
Poole looks to Ughol, clearly for advisement, "He is right... we can't leave them... nor can we carry them. What should we do?"
Ghorev says, "Can you wake them?"
Medes scratches the side of her shaved head, mashes her bowler down again, and looks around before kneeling next to one of them and slapping his cheeks. "Hey!" Slapslap. "/Hey!/ Wake up."
The man drools a bit, his cheeks reddening from the abuse, but he does not waken.
"Uh. That would be a /no,/" Medes replies, sitting back and scratching her tattooed bicep. "At least not like that, I can't. And I don't think... " she stops, then, and, hey, scanner time again.
"Oh Sally... I... oo... don't strike him so hard... I really wish you'd be more lady-like," Poole acts like she isn't enjoying Medes' actions, but fails to hide a slight grin.
Caeli continues watching, with a glance aside to Poole, and a quickly-quashed grin.
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Personal Equipment skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!
"And I wish you'd stop whimpering about everything and mincing about like a wuss but I don't tell you to stop getting on about your nails and your shoes, do I?" 'Sally' replies with a shake of her head and a soft, half-amused laugh as she peers down at her scanner. "They've been drugged. Same thing, all of them, and the same dose. Dunno what it is, though."
Caeli purses his lips, and looks to Poole with the grim reality. "We should press on. The only alternative is to turn back, bring them to safety, and abandon your father."
Ghorev says, "Your bald alien companion is right, Miss Saturn. As much as I hate to leave these good men, we have little choice."
. o O Caeli thinks "Thanks, whitey."
"Daddy is more important..." says Poole standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants. She reaches for her sword, tugs it out of the earth and says, "Unless anyone has any bright ideas for how to take them with us."
"No, I don't," Medes replies, getting up and untucking her pistol from her belt as she transfers her scanner to her left. "We'll just have to hope they don't get et or have their cat allergies activated in some horrible shedding accident while we're saving your father." A pause. "Shall we, then?"
Caeli nods, hefting his packs and pistol and looking back to their trail. "Shall we resume our original path?"
Ghorev says, "The tree-men headed that way, I'm sure of it. Come." And with that, he bounds off into the deeper jungle. "Stay close and keep your weapons handy."
Poole hefts her weapon in a practiced manner and runs after Ghorev, jumping roots and the like. Over her shoulder, she tosses back for Medes, "One day I will make a lady out of you, /Sally/. You already have the /CUTE/."
"Yeah, and you might stop pouting, and pigs might fly," Medes replies with a roll of her eyes as she takes off after Ghorev, running into the deeper jungle in the path the Andorian clears by his movement.
Caeli follows along at a brisk clip, bringing up the rear with weapon at the ready and a grin worn on his face at Poole's comment. "Personality is only ripe when one has made the truth their own." Not that his quotations really have anything to do with anything. They just sound good.
The jog through the jungle takes some time. After all, there is only the most rudimentary idea of where the team is going. 'That way' covers an awful lot of ground. Eventually, though, a halt is necessary, as a small stream, a rivulet of melted snow from the mountainside, blocks further passage, at least until a way past is found, or the cold waters are forded.
<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Planetside Survival (Jungle) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
<CONTEST> Poole contests her Planetside Survival (Jungle) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Planetside Survival (Jungle) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!
Poole pauses at the waters edge, clearly at a loss for how to cross. She looks expectantly at Ughol.
Medes pauses at the stream, having followed in the trail Ghorev blazed rather much in keeping with her 'faithful puppy' idiom. She takes off her bowler, wipes across her forehead with one of her sleeves, and smushes her hat back down on her head. "So." A pause. "I'm thinkin'. We want to follow this stream. Given, you know, you'd want to build on something like this. For drinking, for waste, for travel. I don't think we cross. I think we go up it." A pause, and then she looks up at Ughol. "Or down it? On that point I'm a little fuzzy."
Caeli nods sagely, looking first one way down the stream and then another. "When one is confronted with a problem one cannot solve, simply turn the problem into an advantage."
Ghorev starts to look around, as if checking for something. "Look around the banks. If there's signs of any use of rope, or vine, or sticks, let me know. We need to figure out if they came from upstream or forded upstream from downstream to come find *us*.
Poole does as she sees Ghorev doing, searching along the bank.
Caeli looks, too. Cause everybody else is doing it, and he wants to look cool.
Medes follows Ghorev's instructions, in a total break from her usual M.O. Really.
<CONTEST> Poole contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
<CONTEST> Medes contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!
<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!
"Here, here!" Medes has a bit of an advantage in this crouching-and-looking thing. It's one of those times when it pays to be short (or so she'll tell herself). "Look. There are these holes. Looks like someone's shoved a stick into the mud. Like to push a raft with, prolly."
Ghorev says, "Let me see." And he does, and after a moment, confirms with a nod. "Good eyes. THey pushed off from here, to go upstream. Look at the angle of the holes. Which means that's where they were returning just now. So it's where we go."
Caeli looks dubiously to Ghorev. "Fortitude and bravery build character, yes, but they do not ford rivers. How are we to cross?"
Ghorev says, "We don't. We simply *follow* it upstream. One foot in front of the other, but rapidly."
Medes looks aside at Caeli as if she's not sure what planet, exactly, he's from. Which, in its own way, is fitting. "We're gonna... yeah. That. C'mon." And so once Ghorev starts upstream, she follows, as quickly as her little legs will carry her.
Poole follows after Medes then, sword still in hand. She looks eager to use it, if the look on her face and her silence are any indication.
And so it is that some time later, Our Heroes emerge from the thick jungle brush at the stream's very source, a series of rough, natural stone rockfalls over which the stream is generated from the geothermically melted snow. Against that rock, set into the side of the rockface, overgrown with vines, an archway can be seen.
Caeli motions toward the archway with his drawn pistol. "It seems our path is self-evident. An ambush is likely... we should be wary."
Poole alternates her sword to her left and tugs out her pistol with her right. If any combat occurs it's going to be ranged before melee. "We are running out of time... and strategies. One of us needs to sneak forward and draw them out, if they are truly waiting for us."
Ghorev says, "I'll go ahead. I am not so married to tradition to think my /tishrul/ a more potent weapon than laser pistols. Be ready."
Caeli nods in agreement, thumbing off whatever safety is on the weapon and raising it in the general direction of the archway. "Good luck," he says simply.
"I will be right behind you, Mr. Ughol, no worries," Poole grins and steps up, pistol aimed in the direction of the arch.
Medes hefts her weapon, nodding her head and peering off into the jungle. If cover she's to provide, cover Ughol she will, with as much oil-smudged mechanic pluck as she can.
Ghorev sets off up the rocks, then, moving from one to another. He needs both hands for this, so the bow gets slipped over a shoulder. WHich s a shame, really, because about halfway up to the archway, 20 meters or so up, there is a sudden barelling rush of movement from the rocks. A ledge unnoticed from the angle of approach seems to have concealed two of the 'pygmy Andorians', who rush him with leaf-like blades clearly reminiscent of the /chaka/, but just as clearly *not* meant for dueling. His relative size does not afford a clean shot, not yet, and they utter little war whoops as they close on him.
Caeli immediately trains his weapon on one of them, waiting for a clear shot without chance of hitting Ghorev. "Mr. Kaleth, I would advise you to seek /cover/," he calls out to the Andorian.
Poole takes aim and shoots at one of the pygmies, "Little... savage buggers..." There's only one setting on these: kill. Woot.
Medes is, according to idiom, much less subtle in her warning cry than the other baldhead about. "UGHOL!" She hunkers down, searching for a clear shot.
Spider has arrived.
GAME: Spider is joining this location.
GAME: Poole spends a courage point.
<CONTEST> Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Energy Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!
*** Donavon is being summoned by a higher power. ***
Donavon has left.
*** Poole is being summoned by a higher power. ***
Poole has left.
Donavon has arrived.
Poole has arrived.
Ghorev shouts "I AM COVER, BLAST IT!" And as Guenever Saturn's shot strikes the rock nearby, he takes advantage of the momentary distraction caused by the blatant display of 'strange magic' to grab the nearer Ghelnoidus Pygmalius. Heedless of the slice he takes from the thing's knife in a reflexive defense, he hurls the pygmy off the rockface to land with a thud 20 meters below. The arc of hurling causes the pygmy to smack into the other one, imbalancing him long enough for a follow up grab-and-snap. Moving to the edge of the rockface, he shouts down "I'm wounded, but we're all clear!" But of course, what he can't see behind him are the twenty or thirty such creatures that now emerge, throwing weapons at the ready, from similar ledges, all over the rock face ....
TO BE CONTINUED...
