Propulsion

Posted on Wed Apr 21st, 2021 @ 10:05am by Warrant Officer Arin Merkara & Lieutenant Percival Bálor Ph.D

2,062 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: The Lonesome Road
Location: USS Ontario | Main Engineering

A Federation starship as historically dated as the USS Ontario was held significance to Lieutenant Balor, regardless of the starship’s service record being noteworthy or not. The simple fact of the matter was, they just did not make them like they used to. Though the Ontario herself had been refitted inside and out, practically gutted to the naked hull before receiving an extreme makeover for her late 24th-century service as the last few years of the century faded. She was repainted and reupholstered. The lieutenant could still see the history where a repaired and reinforced bulkhead now stood. He could smell the blood-stained decking underneath the carpeting, even with the cleaning agents used to rid the iron and copper-based presence.

Tellarites knew good ingenuity when they saw it. He could run his hands along a corridor, feeling the coldness of metallic alloys, the firmness of duranium. This was more than just a Federation starship, this was an elegant grey lady with stories to tell, and spirits that walked the corridors at night, everlasting ghastly echos if one took the time to broaden their senses to truly listen. If bulkheads could talk...except they did. They spoke with a pizzaz and finesse that only a select few could understand; engineers were often among those who could, and once in a while a scientist like Percival could start to understand it as well, but he was nowhere near as fluent in starship.

The half Tellarite had stopped at food and beverage replicator to order himself something to drink, something to perk him up for the day ahead. “Dublin fog, hot,” said Percival as he waited for the warm tea latte to materialize, and when it did, he snatched it up and held it close to his face. It may have been synthetic, but it smelt as fine as the real deal. He took a few sips, enjoying the rich aroma and sweet taste, all the way down the corridor, and he took a sharp turn, finding himself entering a small work area leading into Ontario’s main engineering.

He leaned up against a bulkhead and sipped his tea, watching a few of the bees buzz about, entering and leaving their hive (Engineering), and a few standing at consoles and tapping away. One engineer, in particular, was standing over the long workstation having a closer look at propulsion systems.

Percival had a pretty good idea that she was a propulsions specialist. He approached and had a look over her shoulder. “Quite the intricate propulsion system,” he said gently stepping aside and speaking in a hushed volume.

Arin didn't hear Percival until he spoke. "Always have had a fondness for the Ambi. My nickname for the class." She patted the console with a gentle touch. "People always want the newest flashiest ship. But this lassie has it where it counts. Heavier plating, I think the more modern ships need more firepower because they have to have to it to stay in the fight. I was part of the refit teams for 6 of these, including this one. My last post was the shipyards near Mars."

Tapping in a few commands and tweaking more setting she added, "but she's being a bit thick today." Turned back towards Percival, she said. "What can I help you with Lieutenant? Or did you come gander her ample nay-celles?"

Percival used his free hand to wave a bit dismissively. "Ah, don't ya worry yourself about me," he said as he had a look around. "I was just having a wee stroll 'round your Ambi, and I wound up coming in here to gawk at her beauty" explained the half Tellarite. "Flashy and new are nice, but when it comes down to it, I'd rather be aboard a starship that's seen some shite."

He shrugged. "This hull is older than me folks, and if a starship can make it that long without being blown to bits, then she's the starship I wanna call home."

"That is an interesting notion. Arin Merkara, propulsion expert and part-time magician around here." Arin didn't hold out her hand. Not from a lack of manners but it was hard to tell who did and didn't shake hands.

"Percival Bálor, half Tellarite half Irish Human, and sometimes Chief Science Officer," he said introducing himself. "Good magicians are hard to find."

"Nice to make your acquaintance." Running a diagnostic of the standby secondary reactors, Arin found her glitch. She picked up a tool kit saying. "Since you're walking around perhaps a stroll to a nearby problem child? It's needs quick swift kick."

He shrugged "sure, why not? What sort of problem is going on. I may be able to help. If not intellectually, then with a good swift kick."

"I've narrowed it down the control board or one of the deuterium injectors that the control board is controlling or not as the case may be. Come on, this way." Arin led the way towards the starboard side of the side. Past a bulkhead she set the toolbox down and tapped the console and interfaced it with her tricorder. "Computer, run a level 3 diagnostic on reactor 8."

The reactor darkened as the control panel lit up. Her tricorder made a constant light trilling for about 90 seconds, then beeped incessantly for a few seconds. "It's the injector. I tell you Percival, after the say I've had, I think I've earned that whiskey." Arin said, as she grabbed the connector, twisted the injector out and laid it on the metal decking near the reactor itself.

So, is this the part where we start kicking it?" Percy replied with a chuckle. "Give it a little bit for tat, darn thing. I suppose she's going to put up a fight every now and then. The ship's were built to last, but they didn't quite factor for the technological advancement that we've made in recent years...leaps and bounds in some cases," commented the Chief Science Officer.

He was curious about the woman's service record. "My previous posting was an Excelsior class starship," noted Percy. "What other classes have you served on?"

Arin laughed out loud. "That is an interesting question and deserves and equally interesting answer. This is the first starship I have served on." She waited for a second. "But I have been on dozens of refits. Galaxy class, Excelsior, Ambassadors, New Orleans, Soyuz, and a dozen others." Keying her access code into a nearby locker, she retrieved a spare injector and replaced it. "Computer, rerun the level 3 diagnostic." Once running, she added, My first post was in the shipyards near Mars. Great experience."

Percy was intrigued. "Well then, look at you Ms first starship posting," he said playfully. "You must be happy to be placed on an old Ambassador class then? That's sort of your niche as a propulsion specialist, old dated starship with upgrades to keep them going."

"Yeah, idle hands are the devil's playthings. Something my mother would say." She actually meant stepmother but Arin thought of Colleen as her mother. There wasn't a distinction in her mind. "I don't mind it. Getting shot at because you're on new ship still sucks. The more prestige the ship gets, the more inspections and brass ass you have to kiss. Hard pass."

"Hard pass for me too," Percy replied. "What's your Department Head like? I haven't met the Chief Engineer yet myself, but I heard what she lacks in size she makes up for in a short fuse and temper." Percy shrugged. "At least that's scuttlebutt."

"Haven't had much of a chance to interact with her. I don't find her unreasonable. Ask me that again in a weeks." She paused. "We all have our quirks and pet peeves. Mine if a lack of attention to detail. If you don't know, ask. Don't make me do your work and mine. That's one sure way to get on my bad side. On that vein, is that anyone I should steer clear of?" Arin asked Percival.

Percy shrugged. "I'm kind of in the same boat as you," he replied and stuffed a scoffing laugh. "Pun not intended. I'm still newish to the starship, and I have only just started to get out of the science lab and meet people, but how about we make an arrangement? I watch your back and you watch mine?"

Considering the offer and the fact that she didn't have anyone else yet on the ship to talk to, she accepted. "I think that's brilliant. Which one of us is the designated pilot?" Arin quipped.

"You," he said not even having to think about it. "I spend more time on a shuttle contemplating the thousand ways a malfunction will occur or pilot error will happen. I am a backseat pilot, and a terrible one at that."

The tricorder warbled as the reactor finished it's diagnostic. Arin keyed in the start up sequence as the reactor fired up. Light rumbling vibrated the deck plating as the unit settled into standby. "Thanks for the interaction while I worked by the way."

He smiled. "It gets boring if I don't have someone to socialize. The plants and animals keep me company in my lab, otherwise, I have silence and the company of my own thoughts."

Arin countered, "You should learn to fly. Two reasons. You'll have more control over at least several hundred things that are trying to kill you, and you'll be too busy to worry about it. I love to fly. Even built a few airplanes. I could even teach you."

"Fly," he repeated sharply. "Hah!" He added with a small stomp of his foot. "Have you ever heard of the Earth expression when pigs fly? Because, that is what I have running through my head right now," he added shaking his head.

He didn't know what to really say other than the obvious. "Perhaps, you could teach me, but I am nervous around shuttles...and transporters. If I could simply stay in the science labs all.the time, I'd be happy."

"Me, I am the opposite. Growing up in southern Ireland, I adore the outdoors. Green meadows. Rock walls. A bit more rain than most climates though." She paused.

"Simple" Arin repeated. "I guess that would depend. "What about a simple aircraft first? Holodeck so it's safe and I have close to 2500 hours in normal aircraft not including the 4200 hours in shuttles. Something like a simple electric airplane. Safe, slow, and something to get your toes wet. If you don't like it...no harm, no foul."

"Don't get me wrong, I love the outdoors," he corrected. "My aversion is by the means to which I have to use to arrive there. I bring a lot of the outdoors to me inside the labs, flora and fauna from alien worlds, and I have quite the marvelous bug collection."

He grunted and snorted. He could not protest. He needed to make nice and get to know some of the crew. That was the one thing about Starfleet, his hide was only as safe as he was willing to trust those around him to keep it. "Okay, but safety protocols stay on at all times."

Smiling she offered, "I don't risk my neck unless I have to. It'll be simple and safe. How simple is up to you honestly. How serious you are to learning to fly and by extension a shuttle. I don't mind showing you the ropes as it were. But it's something my father taught me as he considered it a basic skill in modern times."

"If you aren't serious, then we hit the pub on that day instead. Your choice." She lit up with a huge grin.

"Either or," he replied with a small squeal of excite. Though exited at learning something new or excite at drinks at a pub? With Percy, it was not so easy to tell. "We will play it by ear," he added.

"Okay. So I have very complicated diagnostic and repair to do on some deuterium tanks. Deuterium as you probably know is stored at nearly -260 Celsius. So help out or get out."

"Yeah, yeah," Percy replied. "I'm not getting myself dirty and using my muscles if I don't have to. I'll leave you to your work."

"Chicken shit....or is that pig shit" Arin said with a mischievous grin. Then winked at him.

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