Rrrrepairrr Worrrk

Posted on 01 Sep 2013 @ 10:02am by Chief Warrant Officer 3 Lamar Darius & Ensign S'Ranna T'Srrr'Kharh

2,679 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 04 - Exodus
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Main Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD02 - 1100 Hours

[ON]

With his maintenance toolkit strapped around his waist and staring in bewilderment at one of Virginia's forward RCS control hatches which absolutely refused to open for him, Lamar ground his teeth in frustration then gave the small panel a swift kick with his boot. A loud thump sounded throughout Galileo's main shuttlebay, but alas, the hatch didn't budge. "Dammit, you stupid shuttle..." he cursed the designers of all Type-9s for their apparent incompetence. It was supposed to be easy to open -- simply press the left side down and in to unlock the panel...not kick the shit out of it or have to pry it open. "Wonderful..." he muttered, then began to look through the available engineering tools on his belt for some type of lever.

"Be carrreful!"

The rich purring voice from behind him could only belong to the ship's new Caitian pilot, S'Ranna. Invigorated by her morning meeting about her research project, she had put the unseemly events of the previous day behind her with some hard work. But as she entered the shuttlebay, fur immaculately groomed, tail sporting numerous decorative bone rings and swishing purposefully, ears flattened against the banging sound her acute hearing had picked up from afar, she was surprised to be greeted by the sight of one of the senior NCOs kicking one of the shuttles.

"What arrre you doing? You will injurrre yourrr paw!" she said concernedly as she approached him and examined the recalcitrant panel.

"It looks as though one of the self-sealing stem bolts is fused," she diagnosed. "Do you have a desealing rrrod? I am thinking it might serve rrratherrr morrre effectively than your boot..."

My paw? Lamar turned around and came face to face with a tall and furry woman. Her light brown coat and slanted gold eyes were very feline in nature, and he quickly realized that she was Caitian, a species with which he had not had the pleasure of serving with before during his days in the Marine Corps. A quick glance at the single solid gold pip on her red-collared uniform revealed her officer rank, and Lamar guessed she was most likely a flight control officer.

"Hey. Um, yea I think you're right. Sorry about that." he replied after staring at her for a long moment, then briefly rummaged through his belt to procuring the appropriate tool. "This ol' girl's been through a lot in the past two weeks. We were running up to four missions a day with her during our system survey and it's been a nightmare to clean all of the stellar debris and crap out of the her systems." he explained, then turned back to the uncooperative panel and finally unsealed it. It slid open to the side with a soft hiss, presenting the warrant officer with an unobstructed view of the various mechanical servos and backup control panel.

"There we go." he said triumphantly, then turned back to her. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Lamar Darius, support craft pilot." he said with a friendly enough smile, then extended his large hand for her to shake.

S'Ranna returned the gesture with an offer of her paw, giving his hand a light squeeze, careful that her claws did not scratch him: the unusual human gesture was one she was now familiar with after years of working on Earth and learning that the poor creatures had no tails and had to make use of ersatz equivalents for gestures of salutation.

"Ensign S'Ranna T'Srrr'Kharh, Juniorrr Flight Contrrrol Officerrr," she replied. "It is being an honourrr to make yourrr acquaintance, Misterrr...Darrrrrius." She repeated the name twice, sounding it out: she was pleased with how in translated in her thick Caitian accent.

She then stepped past him to further investigate the exposed control panel. Her eyes swished back and forth, narrowing as she examined it. "I have flown many Type-9 crrraft at the Rrrrange. Perrrhaps I can be of assistance with yourrr rrrepairrrs?"

Lamar nodded and grinned to himself after hearing her almost purr-like accent. It was nice on the ears and very distinctive, and he could definitely get used to hearing it on a daily basis since they were apparently going to be working together in the same department. "Nice to meet you, ma'am." he politely replied, then motioned to the now exposed control panel.

"I'd love some help, if you don't mind. I'm in the process of recalibrating Virginia's RCS control surfaces. I've got the other three finished but this one's been giving me a hard time." he added with a smirk. "She's one of our older shuttles and gets a bit temperamental from time to time."

S'Ranna gently patted the hull of the shuttle with her paw. "I'm surrre she is just in need of a little carrre and attention," she said, talking almost as though the shuttle were just another member of their crew: though she had yet to take the Virginia out herself, she tended to form very close relationships to ships she worked with.

Then she assumed a more businesslike tone. "So, the RrrrCS thrrrusterrrs. I think I rrrememberrr enough of my adjunct engineerrring trrraining to be of serrrvice. Shall we take some trrricorrrderrrr rrreadings to deterrrmine what phase adjustment will be rrrequirrred?"

"Be my guest." he answered, then stepped to the side to allow the Caitian to move closer and inspect the control panel in more detail. He unclipped his modified maintenance tricorder from his belt and handed it to her, then watched to see how she worked.

S'Ranna took the tricorder with some difficulty - she was used to using a specially adapted tricorder, and this one did not fit her paw well - but she just about managed to locate the correct buttons after some scowling, under-the-breath muttering, and agitated swishing of her tail.

"Hrrrrm...therrre is a build-up of interrrstellar hydrrrogen in the RrrCS exhaust vent...fourrr EPS sub-rrrelays need rrreplacement parrrts...and the grrravitational compensatorrr rrrequirrres a phase rrrealignment of - 98%!" S'Ranna announced with alarm. She then glanced at the tricorder again, and meekly turned it the right way around.

"Oh, I mean - 2%."

"Yea, that sounds about right." Lamar replied with a smirk and a shake of his head. "I've been having to replace those sub-relays almost every week because of the wear and tear on the shuttles. Tell you what, I'll go into the maintenance shed and find some new ones while you start working on clearing out that exhaust vent? The phase realignment shouldn't take too long so we can do that last." he proposed.

S'Ranna sniffed. Her fur was immaculate as ever, and she hated getting it unclean. But she also knew the importance of getting in well with the senior NCOs: young junior officers who spurned the 'dirty', 'gritty' work were never looked on favourably. So she nodded reluctantly and began rolling up her sleeves. "As you say, Misterrr Darrrius," she said dejectedly, her tail drooping flat to the deck and ears twitching as she fretted over how much interstellar dust residue she might end up getting caked onto her.

She moved round to the exhaust vents and went down to her haunches, gold eyes narrowed as she examined them. A necessary byproduct of interstellar travel - even the shortest round trip - was the collection of interstellar dust on any magnetized surface. From the look of this, the shuttle had not been cleaned for some time: though the particulate residue was fine, enough had accrued to form a thick caking layer. She flattened her ears and wrinkled her nose, and began scraping it clean with a microlaser tool.

Lamar casually whistled to himself while he strolled over to the maintenance locker in the corner of the shuttlebay. He liked the new Caitian ensign who had just arrived, which was usually rare for young officers who were often straight out of the Academy. Maybe it was because she was a non-human, but something about her struck him as very professional and competent. Or maybe it was just curiosity and intrigue because she was the first of her species he had ever met. Or maybe it was because she was kind of cute for a cat lady. Either way, he decided they would get along pretty well.

Returning several minutes later to the shuttle two sets of sub-relays, he cradled them in his left arm as he approached her. "I got some fresh relays here all ready to be installed." he said with a wry grin. "How's the vent looking?"

S'Ranna, up to her furry elbows in interstellar residue, was running her tricorder - the right way up this time - over the exhaust vents to check for any remaining coatings. Wherever a reading came up, she would sniff in distaste and tend to the surface with her microlaser point. Much as she found this activity objectionable, she was also fussy about starship maintenance, and anything less than a high standard was not going to fly. Looking back over her shoulder, she scowled, eyes slitted, ears flattened.

"They arrre clean," she said curtly, before adding, "I am not. So let us install the rrrelays rrright away."

With a hint of temper creeping into her voice, she brushed the worst of her fur down and swished her tail across the deck.

"We will need to rrrreplace the parrrts at..." she consulted her tricorder. "Sub-junctions 8, 12, 17, and 41."

"Alright, let me just take care of this real quick..." he replied to her diagnostic scan as he moved forward and began to replace the sub-relays with the assistance of a hyperspanner. The process took a few minutes of diligent and delicate work, but eventually he finished installing the new components. "I think that's it, let's run a quick diagnostic on the system to see if they're properly aligned."

While Lamar worked, S'Ranna fussily wiped her paws clean on a small cloth she'd retrieved from her personal engineering kit box. In fact, the box seemed to contain more things for cleaning and grooming than it did tools or spare parts. Once she had finished to her satisfaction - or, at least enough to stop her restless pacing and tail swishing - she returned to watch him complete the last few installations.

"Verrry well." She padded over to the shuttle entrance and opened the hatch, stepping inside the small cockpit. Sitting herself at the seat - adjusting her tail behind her - she activated the internal diagnostic systems. "Computerrr, rrrun a Level 3 Diagnostic on the RrrCS contrrrol system."

The Level 3 diagnostic -- designed to take ten minutes or less depending on the system -- began to run its course, and Lamar continued to monitor the sub-replays with his tricorder from the outside of the craft where the exposed control panel was located. Several minutes later, the diagnostic finished, and Lamar walked around to the front of the cockpit and gave S'Ranna a cheerful thumbs-up through the windshield. "Everything looks good on my end." he informed her, unsure if she could hear him through the hull plating.

The diagnostic came back showing a return to optimal levels. S'Ranna gave an approving nod and then tried to repeat Lamar's gesture, sticking up the furry nub of a thumb - tipped in a good inch of curling, razor sharp black claw - to him. Fortunately, as a Caitian her hearing was particularly acute, and she was able to make out what he said - but she took pity on his poor, tail-less human physiology with its tiny, fur-less ears, and waited until she had stepped back out of the cabin area beforre replying.

"Indeed, the prrroblems appearrr to be rrresolved. Fine worrrk, Misterrr Darrrius." Of course, she never truly trusted the diagnosis of a computer system: she would only be satisfied once she had piloted the craft herself. But it did not seem an opportune time to be taking it out for a test flight while they worked to rescue and Venture's crew.

Lamar smirked at the compliment and grinned. "Thanks. It's good to meet someone who knows their way around a shuttlecraft...I'm new to the department, only been a support craft pilot for a month or so now." he began to explain. "I was Galileo's COB before Chief Quinn lost his arm in battle and was reassigned to the command department from engineering. I've always wanted to fly and the captain came to me proposing a change in departments to let Chief Quinn take over as COB and to let me start flying. So far, it's been fun." he gave her a tiny wink then gestured to the exposed RCS control panel. "Want to help me close this panel? You seem to have a better touch with the ol' girl than me.."

S'Ranna stared at him blankly. "The old girrrl?"

Realization dawned eventually, and her ears flattened in embarrassment at having not understood more quickly: though she did not share the human fondness for anthropomorphism, she had encountered it before. "I see, yes, the shuttle. Of courrrse I shall help."

She padded round to the panel and stooped to examine it, then reached forward casually to activate the mechanism. "I have enjoyed worrrking with you. Perrrhaps anotherrr time I can discuss a rrresearrrch prrroject I have planned. I want to investigate the muhhhhrrrrrr! rrrhhhhhh! hnnnnngggrrrrrr!"

S'Ranna's universal translator wasn't malfunctioning: she was rolling around on the deck in pain, clutching her paw tightly. She had lost concentration and forgotten to attach the cover housing to the auxiliary processor: the resultant flash of plasma had not seriously hurt her, but had given her a nasty burn to her paw-pad. Her tail whipped about like some kind of demented serpent and she kept yowling plaintively.

Pulling herself up to shaking hindpaws, she examined the reddened skin exposed underneath singed fur. "It appearrrs my rrresearrrch prrroject may have to wait," she said in a voice thin with pain.

Observing the bright flash and hiss of the plasma burst against the Caitian's paw, Lamar's eyes went wide and he quickly went into triage-mode to assist her -- a natural reflex from his many years of service in the Marine Corps.

"Let me see it." he said to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking closely at her appendage. "Looks like you didn't cover the processor housing before you touched the exposed relay." he commented, then spit on his free hand and gently wiped it against the woman's exposed burn. "Don't rub that off. I know, looks nasty, but it'll help the pain if the nerve endings aren't exposed. Let's take you to sickbay." he added with apologetic warmth to his eyes, and began to lead her towards the door.

S'Ranna's eyes shot open in horror: though she had no reservations about licking her own wounds clean, someone else's saliva coming into contact with her fur uninvited was a gross violation of Caitian etiquette. Agitated, she swished her tail about and narrowed her eyes.

"No, it was my mistake. You should stay herrre and finish up the rrrefit to the shuttle. I can walk to Sickbay myself. I will rrreturrrn once I have been trrreated." She gently, but firmly, put her paw to his shoulder and gestured for him to stay in the Shuttlebay, bowing respectfully, but unwilling to yield on this. Then she turned and ducked through the doors - before he got any ideas like licking her!

"Yes, ma'am." Lamar replied with a nod of consent. She was his superior officer, after all, and if she wanted to go alone to sickbay, that was her prerogative. "Hopefully I can get everything finished up before you come back." he added, then watched her disappear out through the large shuttlebay doors.

[OFF]

--

Ensign S'Ranna T'Srrr'Kharh
Flight Control Officer
USS Galileo

WO Lamar Darius
Support Craft Pilot
USS Galileo
NPC'd by Lirha Saalm

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