A Real Straight Shooter
Posted on 03 Oct 2022 @ 6:40pm by Lieutenant Commander Sikan & Senior Chief Petty Officer Declan Quigley
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: OC Main Security - Armory
Timeline: MD06-1300
913 words - 1.8 OF Standard Post Measure
Sikan had learned in his years of service that a department’s armory often said everything about that department. Starfleet avoided combat whenever possible, but also had to be prepared to defend itself and others against overwhelmingly powerful enemies who wanted to do them harm. Some were sparingly maintained aside from the required checks. Others were always manned and prepared for action. This armory had a dedicated NCO in charge, Declan Quigley, and Sikan decided it was time to inspect the armory and see what sort of job Quigley was doing.
As the doors opened, Sikan saw the armory was carefully squared away. Weapons lockers lined the walls, with the phasers locked away waiting for the Master-At-Arms on duty to release them. Towards the back there was a small firing range, replicator and workbench with a rolling chair sat in front of it. A tall, heavyset, barrel-chested man with a head of graying red hair and a whitening beard was on the chair. He spun the chair around to see Sikan enter and stood up with a soft groan. “Welcome, sir,” Quigley said, his voice soft and touched with an Irish accent.
“Chief Quigley,” Sikan replied. “I am Lieutenant Commander Sikan, the new chief of security.”
“I’d guessed as much, yes, sir,” Quigley replied. “How’ve you been finding the place?”
“Busy. There have been several points of interest.” As he came closer, Sikan saw that on the workbench sat the parts of a hand phaser, mostly disassembled. “Was there a problem with that phaser?”
“Ah, no, sir,” Quigley replied, looking down at his work. “We recently got approval to replicate an updated batch of type-2s. I replicated one for testing, and now I’m making improvements so the rest can be replicated up to snuff. The bog-standard model needs some better phase modulation, and an adjustment to the targeting sensor. It’s fine, but fine isn’t good enough. If I fix this one by hand, I can program the adjustments in the replicator and save myself a lot of work later.”
“Efficient.”
“Appreciate you calling it efficiency instead of laziness, sir,” Quigley said. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I will have whatever you are, Chief.”
Quigley nodded and walked to the replicator. “So what brings you down to phaser city, sir? Qualification on the range?”
“No, I still have four months before that. Simply inspecting the offices. Meeting the people.”
Quigley came back over with two cups of coffee, handing one to Sikan before sitting back down at his workbench. “Not many people to meet down here. I’ve a qualification at 1430, and not much else.” He sipped his coffee and sighed. “This is about the only bloody thing that keeps me awake after noon.”
Sikan tried his coffee and glanced down at it. “It is…very sweet.”
“About the only way I can stand the stuff, if I’m honest.” Quigley laughed. “Isn’t that terrible? ‘Oh, I drink this stuff four to five times a day, but I need to monkey around with it so much it’s unrecognizable.’”
“Like the broom problem.”
“Eh?”
Sikan gave the slightest of shrugs. “A man has a broom. The bristles wear out, and he replaced the head. Then, some time later, the handle wears out, and he replaces the handle. Does he still have the same broom?”
Quigley snorted, nodding. “Aye, sir. Am I drinking coffee or hot sugared milk with a smidgen of coffee flavor?”
“Truly a question to occupy the great minds of the universe.”
Quigley laughed again, nodding. “That it is, sir. You’re a bit of an odd one, sir, if you don’t mind my saying.”
“It has been said before,” Sikan replied. “Might I try one of your modified phasers? I am curious to see the difference for myself.”
“Hm? Oh, yes, sir.” Quigley got up with another groan and walked to a locker to retrieve a hand phaser. “Though I feel I should caution you, sir, the changes I made are ones of degrees. It’s unlikely anybody but a computer could tell the difference.”
“A computer or yourself, Chief Quigley?”
Quigley ducked his head a bit, a small smile of pride crossing his lips. “Something like that, sir.” He handed Sikan the phaser, and the Vulcan set down his cup of coffee.
Sikan checked the phaser, seeing it was set on the lowest setting, as regulations required of stored weapons. He stood at the range and waited as a target appeared at the far end of the range. Sikan raised and fired, then again at a second target that appeared almost instantly. Both shots were perfectly centered. Sikan cocked his head. More targets appeared, and Sikan fired a half-dozen more times. Some more rapidly than others, some targets so small to be barely visible. When it was done, Sikan looked the phaser over. “Most impressive, Chief Quigley,” Sikan said. “The firing rate and accuracy are both approximately .18 percent above normal.”
“I’m not sure point-anything qualifies as ‘most impressive’, sir, but thank you. I’m impressed you noticed. Most wouldn’t have.”
“They should pay closer attention,” Sikan replied, powering down the phaser and handing it back to Quigley. “I look forward to speaking with you further, Chief.”
“I do, as well, sir. It’s been interestin’. Come down any time you want some—“
“Tea, Chief,” Sikan said, moving back to the exit. “Next time I shall have tea.”
