Hand Me The Wrench
Posted on 15 Sep 2020 @ 10:11am by Lieutenant Commander Lance Quinn (*) & Lieutenant Commander Godiva Kimberlye
Edited on on 15 Sep 2020 @ 10:12am
Mission:
M1 - Emergence
Location: Command Section - Near Intelligence Offices
Timeline: MD04 1300HRS
2535 words - 5.1 OF Standard Post Measure
Ensign Fywira Resin stood anxiously near the open conduit access panel, looking back and forth down the halls around her as she listened to the string of off-tune singing that emanated from the panel. It was broke, full of off tempo pauses that resumed in ways that didn't sound natural. The longer the Engineer listened, the more she was convinced that the song was being sung in chunks. Side stepping quickly as a chunk of conduit skidded across the floor, the Ensign once more swallowed hard as she preyed no one would happen upon her to ask what was going on. She wasn't sure what was going on. A hand violently shot from the wall and made a grabbing motion. "Ensign, hand me the plasma torch! I need to remove this damaged conduit."
The Bolian woman sighed, as she reached down and picked up the requested tool from the box, and handed it to the out reached hand, which retreated back inside the wall. A moment later sparks erupted, matched with a series of giggles, and then more vocals. Inside the wall, positioned in a way that couldn't be remotely construed as comfortable, Godiva belted along to what she was sure were the words to a pop song she'd heard from Trill recently. They weren't, but they were close enough that she didn't care. She'd gotten to the Intelligence Office the day before, and had spent the better half of the day trying to get the systems running in a way that was useful to her. When that had failed, she'd requested help from Engineering, and had been told that it was a low priority.
Clearly Engineering was busy, so, the Chief had decided if they couldn't help her, she'd help herself. Ensign Resin had been unfortunate enough to happen upon the Lieutenant Commander hanging upside down out of a different conduit, and had mistakenly offered to help her track the lack of power they were receiving. That had been at 0930. It was now 1300, and the pair were still chasing gremlins, but now it appeared Godiva had found the source of her woes, and was determined to fix it. The sound of boots in the distance made the Engineer flinch though as she looked about. "Uh ma'am... I think someone is coming, and you really shouldn't be in there..."
Lancelot almost didn't look up from his PADD as he walked the corridor. Obsidian Command was a mess. More than a mess, it was a disaster area. Half the sections ought to have been condemned as unsalvagable and yet Command wanted them repairing, replacing or refurbishing. Some people just never looked at the big picture of these things. He was about to pass the motionless Ensign in the corridor, when he heart what sounded like singing. And the unmistakable tone of a plasma torch in operation. He took a step backwards and peered over the PADD.
"Ensign." He had no idea of her name. Nor was he going to learn it: Of a crew of thousands, he could, at a pinch, keep track of maybe a dozen. "Are you singing? What work order are you actually doing, standing there?"
Fywira had been looking the wrong way when the set of boots finally reached her, and when he addressed her she almost jumped. When she turned to look at who was talking to her, the jump almost turned into a sinking feeling. Two Lieutenant Commanders was what the young woman now found herself stuck between. Why had she stopped to ask if the Intelligence woman had needed help? "Th-th-there is no work order sir..." she finally replied, looking at her own boots. "I believe the new Intelligence Chief thought she could fix the problem herself, and at this point I am scared to leave her alone, because I don't actually know if she is going to hurt herself." Her voice petered off slowly as she spoke. She was in so much trouble, she could feel it. She did jump this time as the pale, slender hand of Godiva shot from the gap again.
"Ensign! Could you hand me the torque spanner! I have almost got it!" came the shout of excitement, but then the hand paused. "No wait. Actually, hand me a conduit calibrator, I think we can actually solve like four problems. Or five." The hand flexed repeatedly in a grabbing motion, and the Bolian looked between the outreached hand and the Chief Engineer.
Lance spotted the hand. Followed it back along the arm and into the open hole in the wall. He picked up the conduit calibrator, placed it in the open palm, then followed it back into the wall as it withdrew. As expected - and as with everything else - it was a complete mess inside.
"Six," he said simply. He pointed at the exposed EPS interlink module. "We can solve six problems. But I'd suggest using a delta-band repeater to save yourself the trouble of having to split the flow regulation." He looked at the woman inside with a faint, almost smug expression. "Hello. You're not one of mine, are you?"
A pair of goggles, mirrored to protect from flares that would otherwise cook eyes stared back at him. The glanced to the interlink, then back to him, and a wide smile spread across her face. "Haha, well I don't think you're old enough to be my father, so I would assume not," came the reply. "Or perhaps you're meaning the Engineering team.... Lieutenant Commander, since you're not the Captain. The Captain is a woman," she stated matter of factly, before turning to the work she was doing. "Not that you couldn't be a woman, the binary that humans tend to consider the default. Kind of species don't you think? Andorians have four genders, which is pretty crazy to think of from our binary perspective. And there are entire species that do no understand the concept of pronouns at all." There was a pause, and the lights on the main level lowered to the point of almost going out and then snapped back to full brightness. Down the hall, an LCARS panel on the wall came to life, flashing various warnings. Once again the head appeared from the corridor and stared down at it, before pulling the goggles up. "I think that's fascinating." She paused, regarded the man again, and offered a series of giggles. "Both the dichotomy of gender and that that specific panel came to life, what did they do to this place?"
Lance's eyelid twitched. Almost perceptibly. Which question to answer first?
"Fascinating. Yes." He spoke dismissively, trying to hone in on one thing at a time. "More to the point, what are you doing to this place? Enviromental controls and random wall interface panels are fairly low down the priority list of this massive tritanium deathtrap." He leaned forwards. "Your clothing says...intelligence?" his face turned skeptical as he said the word. Perhaps there had been a mix-up in the uniform shipment. That would make a lot of sense, considering everything else. "I can assure you there's no pressing counter-intelligence or grand conspiracy theory resident in that particular junction."
Pointing to the conduit in the junction she'd shoved herself into, she squeezed back into where she had been, and stretched to continue calibrating the junction that was acting up. "You are correct," she said, sliding her goggles back into place, having the added bonus of acting like a visor and giving her readouts of power, temperature, and a little bit of extra night vision. "I am in Intelligence, sort of. I guess I run this Intelligence detachment now," she said, listening to the hum. That was fixed, but there was still something wrong. She looked down at the EPS interlink, it shouldn't be the problem, but then again, she should have power in her office. "I went to the Academy for Engineering, and I need power to my office to begin to even assume I can work in these conditions. So, since Engineering couldn't help, I helped myself. Or, I am trying to help myself." She gave the EPS interlink another look, this time as if willing it to give up it's secrets.
"So it would seem," Lance nodded pensively, his eyebrown cocked a little at the dozen discarded tools on the floor around the opening. "I'm sure there are plenty of offices that need power at the moment, not to mention living quarters, half the berths in the stardock, the almost nonexistent tactical systems...do I need to go on?" He folded his arms. "While the Corps of Engineers no doubt misses such a wonderful talent, the team on board the station does have a significant priorities list." Intelligence likely wasn't on it he added silently.
Nodding along with the man, Godiva was only half paying attention, as something crossed her mind and she was focused on it. As he spoke, she reached down and grabbed a handful of the scattered tools, smiled at the Ensign and retreated into her hole. "While I am sure that your team doesn't consider my work important," she said, as she reached up to grab a series of ODN connection that were separated that had caught her eye, and began fusing them together. "I am also sure your team is more than aware that there was a power vacuum left in the wake of Obsidian's disappearance. People will come through here, trying to get a piece of us. Or perhaps already have, there are a few signs this area has been the sight of numerous raids and small scale conflicts." She paused, watching as the connection flickered at her angrily. It wasn't good work, but it was functional. "If I was the Captain, and I was half smart," she poked her head to look at him again, "and I like to think both of us are," she leaned down and set to work on the Interlink, "I would have prioritized weapons and shields, seeing as there isn't really a defensive force here. Or, like, fighters and bombers. Or Marines. Or much of a staff. Where was I going with this? Right, priorities," she mumbled, focusing on the system in her hands, which was clear someone had tried and failed to fix at some point.
"I would get shields and weapons online, as well as maybe more stable power. But I would also want to know what's out there, what people might be plotting. I'd want to have some idea of what is going on around me, which is where I come in. And maybe help where you can get it," she concluded as the interlink sparked and hissed at her, but didn't explode and remained stable. Climbing from her hole she placed her hands on her hips. "Help is important, I'm told. I don't need to pull doubles, nor will my team, but you need help, yes? You can accept it, or keep judging me on the colour of my uniform."
Lance followed the short speech with a simple nod of his head. Given the state of just about everyone else in the Engineering department, he was unlikely to disagree with her assessment that help was needed. Indeed - he had half a mind to discipline the Ensign for just standing there aimlessly like a Vulcan at a wedding. "Normally I would protest," he responded. "However trying times and all that. Besides," his grin was saccharine. "It's hardly likely you're going to break anything that isn't already broken, is it?" As if on cue, the LCARs display down the hall spluttered and shorted out, a faint smell of smoke following it.
As the lights flickered again and the panel died, Godiva's face split into a smile. "Well then, I have to make sure this made enough power to get things running. I do have... actual work to do." In the distance a light pop sound could be heard in the distance, suspiciously close to the Intelligence Offices. "And that is either not related, or very related." Reaching down, she picked up the tool box, aggressively shoving her tools back into it. "These are mine, by the way. I never travel without my own, though I have expended my last fire extinguisher. Do you think there is still an emergency one in the office?" Another pop went off in the distance, and she sighed. "Those are definitely more LCARS panels, aren't they? I should go. But before I go, I do have my own bits of advice I have found." Dropping the box to the ground with a loud clattering of metal, she reached back into the wall and retrieved a PaDD. "These are all the problems I have found for the command level. One of them is the main computer, I think they have stripped out access to some sections through force. I would fix those before you get all your reactors back! Otherwise the two," another pop cut her off, "three fires on this deck will be the least of your concern. 1800 sound about right to arrive?"
It was somewhat presumptuous of the woman to invite herself onto his engineering team, but Lance knew intelligence - ironically - when he saw it. The work she'd done on the conduit wasn't totally terrible. Certainly not worse than some of the repairs he'd already witnessed. And she had her own tools, which was considerably more than he had to hand. He took the PADD but ignored it for the minute. Add it to the list, he noted mentally. "Truly: I cannot wait," he declared somewhat apathetically. Perhaps when the station was up and running he could come along to the intelligence offices and tell her how to do her job too. Repay the favour. "1800, then."
"Great! I'll see if I remembered to pack my old working coveralls!" declared the woman, scooping up the last of her bits and turning to the Ensign that was at this exact moment trying very hard to be ignored. "You've been a tremendous help, but I think you have more pressing matters now," she said in an all-too-sweet tone, that would have been sarcastic if it had come from anyone else - Godiva genuinely meant it. "Oh!" she spun on her heels to face Lance. "Thanks!" she added, and then made her way down the hall towards her own offices. "Don't be too mean to the Ensign either," she called over her shoulder as she disappeared around the bend.
Lance waited until the Lieutenant Commander had gone from earshot and turned to face the Ensign, who remained almost petrified in silence. "Standing there is definitely going to fix all of our problems."
Sensing the meaning behind his words, the young officer jump-started and began gathering up various discarded items left around the floor.
With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, he continued on towards his next destination; perhaps hoping that the next senior officer he came across was as competent as the one he'd just encountered - but a little less hyperactive.
