The Pet Project

Posted on 27 Jul 2021 @ 6:40pm by Lieutenant Commander Lance Quinn (*)

Mission: M2 - Sanctuary
Location: Obsidian Command - Lower Habitat Ring
Timeline: MD 06 1930
615 words - 1.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Lance was up to post-restart task 1257 of a list he didn't even want to know had a total number attached to it. It was probably growing daily anyway. Clean-up priorities after the whole reclaiming of the station and the small war that had broken out on board had been mainly confined to key systems. The Auxiliary Shuttle Bay in the Lower Habitat Ring wasn't a priority by anyone's standards, which was why it was this far down the list.

In the back of his mind he'd been toying with that strange Grazerite and her equations. It had been a healthy distraction from the whole Calliope situation. Work was work, but there would be constant reminders of her all over the place. Hell, a red-trimmed uniform was enough of one. Especially the one worn by the standing XO. It benefited him to have another thing to work on. Something private, that felt enough like actual engineering work while being a bit less of a strain.

The Auxiliary Shuttle Bay had been, as expected, trashed. One of the boarding parties - either in the void itself or afterwards - had used the section as a breaching point and so two of the shuttlecraft previously on standby there had been junked entirely. What remained was a semi-shredded Arrow-class runabout. The runabout Cassiopeia, though the insignia had been partially burned away. A quick scan showed that the warp core on the small craft was completely cold, most of the power regulators were missing (likely cannibalised elsewhere) and the aft passenger section had been entirely gutted. In fact, the main hatch had been removed entirely and he could actually climb inside should he desire.

Almost ready to write off the morning's work as a waste and recommend industrial reclamation of the runabout, Lance found moment to pause as he looked over the broken shell of a spacecraft. He lowered his PADD and approached the darkened grey hull. He reached out with his hand and smudged away some of the dirt and carbon scoring over the lettering. After the C and the A, the two 'S' stencils became badly-drawn 'L's instead. Calliopeia...or Calliope, as the last two letters no longer legibly existed. The universe had a strange way about it, that this poor little vessel had been abandoned, and left to gather dust. No longer capable of performing the role she was meant to.

Catching himself in a rare moment, Lance wondered whether he had deliberately forced that impression upon an inanimate piece of engineering. It wasn't his wife. She was laid up in a medical bay, recouperating. And, admittedly, distant from him. As cold as the hull of this useless runabout.

It's not useless...it just needs something else...a repurposing...

The equations from Lt Elli-Navine flashed through his mind again. The Quinn-Navine drive, he'd postulated. It would require a lot of thought and engineering to develop. But...here was a foundation. Something broken - something he could actually fix. He felt his heart burn with a strange excitement. One he hadn't felt since those early days working on the Vesta Project. The thrill of being able to experiment, to develop something new.

Already in his mind he'd reallocated a few nonessential resources to this room. Clean out the debris, secure the repair bays, and they'd have a workable area in which to work on her. He could pull on some of the smarter scientists and engineers. It might very well work.

"Well...Calliope..." he muttered to himself, hand resting against the cool broken runabout. "It's very nice to meet you. I think we're going to be spending a lot more time together."

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