That's Not a Hydrospanner...THIS is Hydrospanner!

Posted on Thu Apr 11th, 2024 @ 2:27am by Ensign Liam O'Connor & Ensign Vivienne Conrad

Mission: The Trojan Horse
Location: Shuttlebay, USS Athena
3697 words - 7.4 OF Standard Post Measure

"I didn't say I believed him. The guy had half a bar's worth of rice wine under his belt by the time he was offering to demonstrate. That's the thing about Risa, though, little short on the crocodile front."

It was fair to say that, on any given day, you were never quite sure what mood you'd find Conrad in. Recent events had stacked the poker chips of fortune more in her favour and she'd gone the past week without inadvertently insulting a superior officer, which was probably a record if she cared the check, but several areas of the ship had just been overrun by marines and if there was one brand of tourist that she didn't miss having to deal with, it was those of the militaristic persuasion. The Klingons were the worst, of course, mostly because even drunk a lot of them couldn't figure out why they'd agreed to go to Risa of all places, but she'd dealt with a few of Starfleet's own before opting to become one of them. On their own, they were manageable, but get them in a pack and the only thing you could guarantee about the sleepless night you were about to endure was that the tips would be good. Creative, but good.

Despite all that, she had rolled out of bed this morning in a decently chipper mood. Any time the powers-that-be remembered her specific training and actually put her to work on the shuttles was a good day, if only because it guaranteed less time trying to navigate the politics of the Engineering officers now that Keating had returned.

There was also the fact that she'd left Fenn snoring on her couch, which put him and his hangover out of harm's way for a good few hours more, by her reckoning.

Dragging O'Connor along as a replacement was the first time she'd really said more than a few words to the guy, though Vivienne had a feeling she'd surprised him by picking his accent and immediately following it up with a necessary stereotype. Being able to place people by the way they sounded was a valuable skill cultivated intentionally by those back on Risa who stood to gain the most from adjusting quickly to meet cultural expectations. Conrad cheated somewhat by having been decently close friends with a New Australian back at the Academy but there was no need to admit to that right away.

Liam had been stealing a rare moment of respite in engineering. With the constant hustle and bustle reverberating through the ship, he found himself caught in a cycle of work, sleep, eat, and repeat. So when the persistent and fiery presence of Ensign Conrad sought his assistance, he didn't hesitate to cut his break short and volunteer. There wasn't much competition for the task, as many seemed reluctant to lend a hand. Liam couldn't help but wonder if he'd be wrestling crocodiles just to keep up with Ensign Conrad's energy.

"I didn't say you did!" he chuckled, trying to match Ensign Conrad's enthusiasm. "You know what a Croc is?" he asked, delving into a bit of local lore. Crocodiles had become a protected species after facing extinction, but they were reintroduced through cloning efforts. Scientists had managed to grow several hundred eggs from just a few samples dating back to the 22nd century. The ones on New Australia even had Gorn DNA mixed in, a measure taken to combat cloning degradation.

"Something with more sharp bits than any bast...creature should have would be my guess." It spoke to her good mood that Conrad tidied up her language as they moved past a group headed in the opposite direction and then stepped into the turbolift first to turn and offer her partner-in-crime a smug smirk. "I am Earth-born," she pointed out with dry amusement, because she'd forgotten that the lack of forehead
bling didn't immediately clue people in to the fact she hadn't started off a slave to the tourist trade. "Which is enough to say I'm aware I should probably be checking for a warning label."

"Earth-born, not a topic that comes up often," Liam remarked with a touch of Aussie nonchalance. "Should've probably checked for a 'handle with care' label before signing up to work with you," he jested, a grin spreading across his face. "So besides the brief spiel about what you needed help with, what's the deal? I thought you pilots practically ran this ship," he quipped, his Aussie wit shining through. Despite Conrad's reputation, Liam found himself feeling quite comfortable in her presence. She might not be everyone's cup of tea, but her energy was downright infectious.

The putter of lips was both dismissive and pragmatic. "You'd think that would be the way of it but the trouble with a starship is, they're generally so big that people forget they're smushed inside a sardine tin in the middle of a vacuum that occasionally turns into a minefield. Shuttles are different," Vivienne conceded, staring up at the ceiling as if that would make the turbolift speed up, "There's a lot less room for delusion when you're face-first in danger soup." She lifted the PADD in her hands. "Looks like the brass wants to add to the gumbo."

Liam's brow furrowed slightly at the mention of "gumbo." It wasn't a term he was familiar with, but he assumed it had something to do with mixing things together, much like the stew his mother used to make back home. "Gumbo, huh? Sounds like they want to throw a bit of everything into the pot and see what cooks up," Liam mused, his curiosity piqued. "Guess that means they're looking for a bit of everything from us, then."

Before Vivienne could respond, the turbolift came to a halt and opened its doors, “After you.”

There was a brief hesitation after the event, a second's-late consideration for social niceties that saw Conrad pause mid-stride after having already assumed a first-exit priority. As most came to understand, the engineer wasn't a crass woman in the sense that her mannerisms strayed towards uncouth and vulgar territory through lack of any social grace, she simply had a tendency to assume she needed to be the first to act. Risians were a peaceable lot for the most part and though Vivienne had considered herself a bartender at the time, it was probably fair enough to add that she'd handle security concerns often enough to have grounds for claiming a second wage. She'd learned not to wait for others.

After momentary awkwardness, she pushed forward.

"From what sense I can make of Keating's orders, we're supposed to prep for sneaking past planetary sensors if push comes to shove and we have to go drag back some grunts." Turning around to face her partner, Vivienne tracked backwards a few steps to add, "In other words, work miracles."

Liam nodded thoughtfully, his mind already whirring with ideas. “Ah, I see. So they want us to perform a bit of techno-wizardry to slip past those pesky planetary sensors undetected,” he remarked, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. “Well, I’m all for a challenge.”

As they walked, Liam considered the problem at hand. Sneaking past planetary sensors wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, especially without the luxury of a cloaking device. But where others saw obstacles, Liam saw opportunities for innovation “You know,” he began, his tone thoughtful, “it’d be great if we could just convince Starfleet to change the laws and let us use cloaking devices. But until then, we’ll have to get creative.”

“We could rig up a series of subspace distortion field generators to bend the sensor readings just enough to slip through undetected. Though they would only fall for it once they’d compensate and we’d be exposed on the way out. What do you reckon?”

There was something in Conrad's deadpan that was difficult to interpret, perhaps intentionally so. Less ambiguous was the half-grin that followed, though whether or not it was more of a comfort was up for debate. "Okay, flyboy." At the very least, her tone sounded marginally impressed as she tossed him the PADD with their job specifications outlined in tedious preparation for lack of creative aptitude. "It's not far off what Keating had in mind and shouldn't conflict with any of her more mandatory requirements. I'm down if you're game."

Liam caught the PADD with a grin, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the prospect of tackling the challenge ahead. He glanced over the specifications outlined on the screen, nodding in agreement. "Count me in," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's show them what we can do."

As they continued their walk, Liam couldn't shake the feeling of growing interest in Conrad. Sure, it was strictly professional—at least, that's what he kept telling himself. But there was something about her confidence, her no-nonsense attitude, that drew him in. Plus, her sharp wit and deadpan responses added an element of intrigue that Liam found undeniably appealing.

"We should start by modifying the ship's shields and sensors to compensate for the distortion field." He said leading her into the shuttle. "The access panel is just behind the cockpit." He added as if she didn't know that already.

Being left to bring up the rear had already made Conrad's eye twitch; the demonstration of mansplaining only exacerbated the potential for annoyance, which was currently vying with amusement for poll position. She was used to this level of patronizing from Fenn, who did it on purpose and always to get a reaction, and even in a good mood Vivienne wasn't sure how she felt about the Trill setting the standard for people's assumptions about her capabilities.

Then again, being underestimated had usually worked in her favour in the past, eventually.

"Ooooh," she exclaimed with no small amount of obvious playful sarcasm, slipping past to sit in the pilot's seat. "Look at all the shiny buttons. I wonder what this one does," she continued with exaggerated movement, honing in on the remote door activation with a single index finger to lock the hatch behind them. "And this one."

The lights turned off.

"Oops."

Liam’s heart skipped a beat as he instinctively reached out to steady himself, only to bump his head on a nearby console in the process. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. Confusion swirled in his mind as he struggled to make sense of the sudden darkness.

The next selection, a deliberate key sequence, saw the space suddenly lit up with a strobing red light punctuated by a klaxon that was definitely going to get Security's attention.

Before he could gather his bearings, the klaxon blared to life, its shrill sound echoing through the cockpit with alarming intensity. Liam’s pulse quickened, his senses heightened by the disorienting combination of flashing red lights and blaring alarms. “What the hell?” he shouted above the din of the klaxon, his voice laced with frustration and bewilderment. Panic threatened to take hold as he groped in the darkness, his mind racing to comprehend the situation unfolding around him as he bumped into Conrad “What did you do!?

And just like that, it was quiet again.

Slowly, the cabin lights brightened, though a little lower than standard. It wasn't just for effect; Vivienne preferred to work with minimal background interference and the light from her headlamp would be more than sufficient. Now moving with the elegance of someone who could honestly be persuaded to try and fly with her eyes closed, Conrad brought the shuttle online and then turned the pilot's chair around in order to fix her workmate with a wry smirk.

"First emergency protocol; don't panic. Second emergency protocol, if you insist on panicking, at least stand still." Hefting herself out of the chair, Vivienne spun it back around and then kneeled to pry open the offending access panel. "If we get this done, I'll owe you a drink. Just...a little less of the Academy Instructor routine, you're gonna give me nightmares."

Liam felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as Vivienne called him out on his panicked reaction. He couldn't help but feel a bit sheepish at her teasing, realizing he had let his nerves get the better of him. "Right, sorry about that," he mumbled, trying to regain his composure. "I'll try to keep the Academy Instructor routine to a minimum," he added with a nervous chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

Liam watched her for a moment before realising his was staring and not contributing in anyway, he quickly returned to the panel, “So what’s your story?” He asked curious to learn more about her. He started to peel away the isolinear chips, power cables and isolates them in term to allow him to make the modifications without being electrocuted.

Bent at an angle that allowed her to peer at an upwards angle into the panel, Conrad's arched eyebrow wasn't obvious and yet still somehow made itself known as a faint incredulity in her otherwise candid response. "You might need to convince me I have one first." She glanced sideways and then eased herself back, far more interested in watching him work than perpetuating a case of indignant self-sufficiency. "What sort of story are you after? Gingerbread men? Fire-breathing dragons?" She obviously knew what he meant but the question was expansive enough that, not exactly accustomed to regaling her life story, Vivienne genuinely had no idea where to start.

Liam's voice echoed faintly from within the access panel, his words punctuated by the occasional clink of tools and hum of machinery as he set about modifying some of the ship's internal workings to withstand the subspace distortion field leaving them invisible to sensors. Amidst the engineering modifications, he found himself lost in the task at hand. Unaware that he was being watched, Liam's mind wandered to lighter topics, a welcome distraction from the complexities of his engineering duties. "You strike me as a fire and brimstone with lots of dragons kind of person, probably slayed a few?" he remarked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and amusement. "Let’s start with where you’re from. Obviously, I’m part Trill," he added, offering a glimpse into his own background as he continued to navigate through the labyrinth of technical challenges.

"Oh yeah, obviously." As tempting as it was to divert into a running commentary on Athena's penchant for attracting Trills, the chief culprit was probably still snoring on her couch and Vivienne found herself less inclined to go into the details of how that had occurred, mostly because it wasn't a particularly interesting story. Instead, she considered the fact that, regardless of whether O'Connor was trying to match sarcasm with her, his question actually prompted a rather delightful opportunity for unexpected, yet somewhat obscure, honesty. "And I'm an honorary Risian."

Liam manipulated the cross junction feed from the shield emitter into the sensor grid, his hands finessing the connections. With a flick of the laser soldering tool, he rerouted the tertiary backup to route through the emitters, generating a reverberation signal designed to dampen the distortion field's effect."An honorary Risan, huh?" Liam remarked, his curiosity piqued as he continued his adjustments. "I wonder how does one become an honorary Risan?" He began to decouple the disconnected power supplies and isolinear chips, ensuring each connection was secure and optimised for the his plan.

"Actually, you'd be surprised at the variety of options they have available in that regard." Had it been a different day, with a different set of circumstances that had prompted a different kind of mood before she'd turned up for duty, Vivienne might have had a great deal more to say about the fact that her assistant had taken over the entire project. She'd been interested enough to see if he could make good with his proposal, however, and remained content for the time being to scrutinise without interfering. "I got one of the less interesting ones." Now that the explanation had arrived at the point of requiring actual detail, Conrad seemed momentarily hesitant. As the pause elongated further, it took the mounting expectation for her to finally add, "Dad married a Risian."

"Less interesting doesn't necessarily mean bad," Liam interjected, eager to show understanding and empathy. "So you became an honorary Risian. That implies you're not half Risian but full Human, right?" He carefully framed his question, mindful not to pry too deeply into Vivienne's personal affairs. The last thing he wanted was to sound rude or intrusive.

As the rerouting and new power flow fell into place, Liam leaned back on his haunches, his gaze shifting to Vivienne. "How does that read?" he inquired, seeking her input on the progress they had made. "The power reroute should show a variance of .36. Once we recalibrate the control module, it should decrease to an acceptable variance," he explained, hoping to gauge her opinion on their work thus far.

"Keating probably won't throw you out an airlock." It would have been a cryptic response had Conrad not flipped her readout around to reveal the .367 his handiwork had secured. Rather than interfere, she gestured with the same index finger previously used to wreck havoc on Liam's composure. "Just jam it with your thumb a few times, the connection for that rod's always a bit dicey."

His previous question, as far as Vivienne was concerned, didn't really need a verbal response, if for no other reason than it was probably worth it to keep him guessing a while longer. Instead, she regarded him for a moment as he finished up, the scan of her eyes giving him a once-over before she asked, "So what part of you is Trill exactly? Inflated self-opinion or inability to hold your drink?" A faint half-smile hinted at an insinuation that might have been lost without previous experience.

"Ah, the inflated self-opinion," Liam responded with a chuckle, acknowledging her playful jab. "But I can assure you, I can hold my drink just fine. Perhaps you'll give me the opportunity to prove it to you?" He delivered the line with a hint of jest, but beneath the humor lay a genuine desire for a less formal interaction with Vivienne. It was his way of subtly suggesting a date, a chance to spend time together outside of their usual professional settings, and perhaps learn more about each other in the process.

"To be fair, I've never met a New Australian who couldn't drink most Klingons under the table." Reaching across him, Vivienne followed her own advice and pushed at the offending isolinear rod until she could feel the connection click properly. Running another scan, she added, "I don't know if the Lounge has stock enough for a proper investigation."

Liam nodded, considering her response. She seemed hesitant, yet not entirely unwilling. Perhaps there was hope for after all but his main focus was perhaps just a friendship for now.

It wasn't a refusal, however, it just also blatantly wasn't an acceptance. Judging by the look Conrad shot sideways, there was a gleeful amount of intent behind her evasiveness, if not the necessary precaution of not signing herself up for more than she bargained for without due diligence in the screening process. Keep them hanging, wasn't that the idea? She held up her readout again. "Bang on." Reaching up, she balanced the PADD on the top of his head and rose to her feet. "You okay to stitch her up, doc? I'll run her integrity check and then we can move on to the next item on Keating's Festival of Fun Times."

“Yeah, I’ll even so it so it’ll look like we were never here.” Liam chuckled inwardly, admiring Vivienne’s strategic approach. She was certainly a puzzle worth solving. Feeling the PaDD on his head, Liam made a concerted effort to keep it balanced, shifting slightly to maintain its precarious position. He didn’t want to be the one to drop it.

She picked up the PADD again; he looked ridiculous. Instead, she tapped him gently with it and moved up to the pilot seat.

Liam set to work methodically putting the cables back in place. With a keen eye for good cable management, he clipped each one individually, ensuring that their labels were outward facing and they all ran in neat, parallel lines along the inside of the panel. Taking his time, he wanted to make sure everything was perfect before sealing the access point.As he worked, his mind flitted between different thoughts, causing him to move a little slower than usual. Despite his meticulous attention to detail, occasional lapses in focus reminded him of the importance of staying present in the task at hand.

“That should do it, as good as ever if I do say so myself.” He said finally.

"Well, keep saying it because our next job is to make sure the primary escape pods are..." Looking up from the console, Conrad stared ahead for a moment in search of the right term. "Escape-poddery enough." Swinging around, she ruffled the other engineer's hair on her way out the hatch and, turning around to wait for him, flashed him an impish wink.

"All that crocodile wrestling has probably given you an advantage on the quick-exit contingency angle so," Vivienne stepped aside with an overstated sweep of her hand, "why don't you come show me how it's done?" Her pursed lips suppressed most of her smirk. She was making fun of him but, in Conrad's terms, that was usually a good sign. It wasn't as if she had much time for wordplay when genuinely annoyed, unless wielding them like bludgeons counted.

“Since you asked so nicely” he countered moving to set about the next work, “Oh and by the way, I don’t think Escape-poddery is a word” he returned a playful wink, not annoyed or upset by her own playful remarks at his expense as they continued on with their assigned work.