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Tomb of the Ancients Part 2

Posted on Thu Feb 8th, 2024 @ 1:16am by Lieutenant Commander Kevin Lance & Lieutenant Tracey Walker Jr

Mission: Guilty Pleasures
Location: Risa
Timeline: Current


After a quick dinner the two men got ready to head inside the temple. Trace pulled a leather jacket and a wide brimmed hat out of his bag, then clipped a long knife to his belt, then the two of them headed inside. "What?" Trace said at a long look from Lance.

"I thought you said that there wasn't any danger," Kevin replied.

"I never said that," Trace responded.

Kevin thought back to their conversation in the mess hall. True, the Chief Engineering had never said anything about danger one way or the other but safety had been implied.

"Then why only a knife," Kevin asked, "Why not a phaser or a chemical propellent weapon?"

Trace shrugged, "I could get one past Risan Arrival Control and the replicators here won't allow you to create one." He strolled off with purpose.

The workers had been hard at work cleaning and doing what they could to restore the inside of the temple. Stunning reliefs of robed figures adorned the walls of enormous central chamber and natural lighting filtered in through high up windows, allowing the fading rays of light from outside to illuminate the frescos.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?” Muttered Trace as they walked toward the back of the room.

"It's impressive," Kevin replied. He really didn't think much of it. Star Fleet Engineers with cutting torches could replicate it in a day. Still, it didn't hurt to be polite.

Since it was dinner time, the large central chamber was relatively empty, and they had no trouble as they made their way toward the back. The found an ancient stone stairwell descending into the darkness and, flicking on their lights, headed down. Dust coated the walls and floor, and although the area had been cleared, it was clear they the workers hadn’t cleaned or restored the lower level.

They descended several more levels, and Trace pulled a small padd out of his satchel once they were several meters below the central chamber. “All right,” he said distractedly. “I believe this may be the place. Where the sun meets the sea, where the sun meets the sea…help me look for something like that," he said, trailing off and searching the walls.

Where the sun meets the sea, Kevin considered the phrase that Trace had shared. "Could be sunrise or sunset," Kevin offered, "or coordinates for an azimuth. Or 'sun' and 'sea' could be figurative. Is the phrase translated from a different language?"

"Ancient Risan. Sun and Sea could have multiple meanings based on inflection...Horizon, East, West, Birth, Renewal." he said, approaching what appeared to be a dead end. He pulled out a brush and dusted the wall. "Here," he said, his light falling on an image etched into the stone. "This one is of a warrior. No dice. Let's check all these alcoves."

There were six in all, and it didn't take them long to find one with the right image. "Over here." Called Lance, standing in front of an image of a sunrise. Behind a thick layer of dust, was an indentation about the size of a fist.

Trace gave Lance a long look. "Am I the only one with goosebumps?" He reached into his satchel and removed the orb he had shown him earlier. Holding his breath, he inserted the orb into the indentation.

There was an audible click, then the sound of stone on stone as the door slid into the wall. Beyond was another set of stairs winding down into the darkness. Lance made to move forward, but Trace held out a hand.

"Here's where things might get sketchy." He said, "This is an area no one has set foot in a thousand years. Be on alert."

Lance nodded and the two of them stepped into the darkness. They had gone about 100 meters down a long corridor when Kevin commented, "Do you have an injury, Lieutenant?"

"What do you mean?" Trace asked, puzzled.

"Your gait, it's changed since we reached this level." Responded Lance.

Trace chuckled. "Ah, no, it's a habit I suppose. When traversing areas like this, you want to walk on the balls of your feet, and reduce the size and pressure of your footprint."

The corridor flared out into a wider antechamber, and Trace's light fell on a curious relief with writing etched into it. He pulled out his padd and red the words aloud. "Teraanu vir dha'rin varenthas nua'lisara...the servant, no, humble bow in the presence...of their...soul superiors, wait, spiritual betters."

Trace scratched his chin, stepping back for a better look when he heard a click. The stone under his left heel depressed and he heard a whirring sound. "Down!" he shouted.

Years of instinct kicked in for both men as they hugged the floor, a split second before a blur passed through where they had been standing and slammed into the side wall with a loud clank.

Slowly, they regained their feet and found a blade the length of the room, rusted with age, buried in the wall.

"Well now," Trace said, breathing heavily. "That's not very Risan of our Prince, now is it?"

"'Come to a friend's archeological dig' he said," Kevin groused as he dusted himself off, "'It'll be fun!' he said."


Lieutenant Commander Kevin Lance
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Chuck Norris


Lieutenant Tracey "Trace" Walker
Chief Engineer
USS Chuck Norris


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