Fixing on the Fly

Posted on Thu Jun 6th, 2024 @ 11:11am by Lieutenant Kevan Dash & Ensign Liam O'Connor & Ensign Vivienne Conrad

Mission: The Trojan Horse
Location: Surface
Timeline: After "Rescue Ready"
2382 words - 4.8 OF Standard Post Measure

The surface of Naghel IV was prettier than the initial reports would imply. Although far from a sightseeing location, it wasn't some complete hell hole. With that in mind, however, Kevan wasn't looking to vacation there. Along with Conrad and O'Connor, they'd approached the silent Marine shuttles a little cautiously at first. There were no immediate signs of life.

"I'm going to go first and check each of them. You both follow me once I've given the clear, all right?" he said quietly, before making his move forward.

Having gifted the security officer a look that quite openly questioned his sanity, Conrad craned her neck to give their immediate surroundings a wary, distrustful scan and then shook herself as if suddenly overcome by a barrage of invisible spiders. "This place gives me the creeps."

Liam caught Vivienne's expression, which openly questioned Kevan's sanity. He couldn't help but agree with her wariness. "This place does feel off," he muttered, scanning their surroundings as she did.

"It looks far too...normal...for a place harbouring a bunch of intergalactic dinosaurs." Once again, the engineer hunched her shoulders in discomfort and grimaced at the skyline. "You know, Risa has a whole contingency for dealing with the Gorn suddenly taking up the idea of pleasure-seeking. Whole-ass contingency, from political response right down to which resorts would draw the short-straw. There are suggested menus on archive, for pity's sake." Turning her attention back towards the hatchway where Dash had disappeared, Conrad huffed. "At least he's not screaming."

"Yeah, it's too quiet," Liam agreed, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. He thought about the contrast with what Vivienne had mentioned about Risa, finding the idea of a contingency plan for Gorn invaders oddly amusing. "Intergalactic dinosaurs and pleasure resorts, huh?" he mused aloud, finding some dark humor in the situation

The first shuttle was totally vacant and silent; untouched since first arrival. By all accounts it was probably still totally functional and capable of flight without help.

It became obvious that the second, however, was less 'untouched'. A streak of red blood and a few handprints of the same marked the side of the hatch where someone wounded had clearly stumbled in. Shooting a mildly apprehensive look back at the other two, he poked his head around the corner of the hatchway to check who or what lay beyond.

Hunched over and unmoving, a figure was positioned in the back seat, a half-used emergency kit discarded nearby. Kevan took a few steps forward, trying to get an idea if the individual was even remotely conscious. No movement. He took another couple of steps...and sensed movement behind him. He whirled to face...Conrad and O'Connor.

"I told you to...never mind..." he grumbled. "We've got a casualty in here, help me out."

"You were taking too long," Conrad shot back, curt in her own elevated stress-levels. Climbing up, she squished behind the Trill to get a better look at their patient and immediately grimaced. Grabbing the discarded medical tricorder that had tumbled to the floor, she ran a quick scan and then shook her head. "Been gone a little while now."

"Any idea of cause of death?" Kevan glanced down at the bloodied wounds beneath the Marine-issue kit. "Uh...never mind." His mouth curled into a grimace. "We'll have to cover the body. Find anything else?"

Liam shook his head, his voice subdued. "Hard to say without a detailed examination. I'm an engineer not a doctor, but it looks like severe blood loss from those wounds." He helped Kevan cover the body, respecting the fallen Marine. "Let's see if we can find any clues about what happened here."

With the somber task of covering the body complete, Liam turned to the rest of the shuttle. He began scanning the area, looking for anything that might give them a clue about the events that led to this grim discovery. "We need to piece together what happened. Every detail matters," he said, his voice resolute. Despite the tension and uncertainty, he was determined to find answers.

"I don't need to piece together anything." Having watched the pair of them deal with the body with just the faintest wince of distaste and marginal empathy, Conrad turned and clambered her way up into the pilot seat. "Unless its the release mechanism for the landing struts, since that looks like it had an argument with the side of a mountain. The Commander said make sure we can take off and I don't need to be told twice."

An attempt to power up the vessel was only partially successful, in that the interior lights came on but left Vivienne staring at an otherwise unresponsive helm. "How the actual damn did they land this thing?" Structurally, for the most part, both of the shuttles looked relatively intact and were positioned as if their initial disembarkation came with no additional obstacles whatsoever. It didn't fill her with a lot of joy to contemplate that the current issues might have been caused by hundreds of tiny sharp teeth. "Helm controls are offline," she declared helpfully as she spun from the seat to pull open a locker and drag out the emergency repair kit. Pausing only briefly, Conrad looked across at O'Connor and nodded through the open hatchway towards the other shuttle. "That one's yours, remember. Dinner's on the line here."

Liam was about to quip that they didn't look like they landed so much as fell out of the sky and hit something hard, but he was keen to win their wager. In reality, even if he lost, he felt they both won anyway. The 'dance' they were having was fun. "Sure thing, I'll be sure to keep the shuttle bay doors open for you when I'm up there," he taunted as he made his way to the other shuttle.

He should have been more vigilant because it was clear Conrad knew this shuttle was in worse shape than the other. Not only did it look like it had collided with a mountain, but possibly several other mountains and an electrical storm as well. Liam would have as much luck getting a paper plane into orbit. Scratching his head, he began by removing the maintenance access panel as they had practised and started rerouting the major systems.

"Whoever wins, so long as the shuttles make it back up to the ship I'm happy," Kevan retorted, keeping watch for any signs of other friendlies. "We'll check the logs when we get back up there. Something about this planet and how that marine went out gives me the creeps."

From inside the shuttle, Liam's muffled voice came through, "I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If whatever took out the Marines returns, I doubt the three of us and two shuttles would make much difference anyway..." His words were abruptly cut off by a snap, crackle, and pop as residual energy looped through the system, giving Liam a sharp jolt. "Ouch!" he shouted, though he was relieved to be making progress with the rewire.

Despite the shock, Liam gritted his teeth and continued working, determined to get the shuttle operational. He knew they needed every advantage they could get, and a functioning shuttle could make all the difference. His fingers worked deftly, reconnecting wires and realigning circuits, all the while keeping an ear out for any signs of trouble outside.

"I think I'm almost there," he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space of the shuttle. "Just a few more adjustments and we should be good to go." He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as the systems started to come back online, one by one. He just hoped he was working quicker than Conrad.

For all her drollness and seeming disinterest in taking life particularly seriously, Vivienne had a competitive streak a mile long and didn't typically make wagers she didn't think she could win...unless losing was an intentional ploy that still swung things in her favour. The stakes weren't necessarily all that high in a fiscal sense but pride was a far more valuable currency and, given a trend since she'd joined Starfleet of being somewhat underestimated for her skill, the engineer certainly didn't relish coming in second best to a crowd-pleaser like O'Connor. She'd started out on the better foot by making sure a very swift analysis had allowed her to take control over the less-damaged vessel, but the bulk of any remaining tactic involved not getting dragged into unnecessary conversation. Certainly not about hundreds of tiny teeth and claws that might re-emerge at any minute to tear them all to shreds.

Re-establishing power to the helm, however, had forced her outside for a moment to jimmy open one of the external access panels and grimace through the resulting stench of burnt circuitry to isolate a cooked power relay and the casing that needed a rework before it was going to stand any chance of housing a replacement. Goggles pulled into place, a tiny soldering implement employed to reshape the damaged space to service at least a single flight given the lack of time and resources for a complete refit, Conrad registered her colleague's boast but grit her teeth to stave off impatience. "All the power in the world's not going to help you stay airborne with a hole in your ass," she chimed back. Hers wasn't the only shuttle, after all, with exterior issues that needed patching.

Already wearing his goggles and wielding the same plasma welding tool as Conrad—who, he wouldn’t admit, looked rather fetching—Liam was only a few seconds behind her. “I figured we’d all just hold our breath,” he joked back. Surveying the main external structural damage, he began with the most critical areas: those that left the interior flight and navigational sensors exposed.

He started by securing a damaged hull plate, welding it back into place with precise, steady hands. Sparks flew as he carefully sealed the cracks and reinforced the joints. Next, he turned his attention to the exposed wiring of the navigational sensors. Carefully stripping the damaged insulation, he spliced the wires together, ensuring a secure connection before re-insulating them to protect against future wear and tear.

Moving swiftly, he patched a breach near the shuttle’s port side, reinforcing it with additional plating and sealing any gaps to maintain the shuttle's integrity. Each weld was methodical and precise, a testament to his skill and experience. With the exterior damage addressed, he sprinted to the cockpit, fingers crossed.

Sliding into the pilot’s seat, Liam powered up the shuttle, feeling a rush of adrenaline. The consoles lit up, displaying all systems as operational. He grinned, glancing at Conrad to see if he had managed to win their wager.

Vivienne would have been the first to admit that appearances could be deceiving. If anything, it was a principle she had used to her advantage numerous times and generally it was very effective. Once in a while, however, it found a way to backfire, hardly with any surprise at the least opportune times, with the current poll position belonging to the moment where she'd decided this particular shuttle needed the least amount of work before it was fit for a mercy dash. Like an oft-jilted lover, the vessel hid her scars well and Conrad had put in more steps back and forth between the troublesome exterior power access and the subsequently sluggish helm controls than she cared to calculate, much less repeat any time soon. The gradual dissipation of her confidence had resulted in a steady stream of muttered frustration, maintained at a decent volume only because alerting the wildlife wasn't high on her list of priorities.

In the end, it was the sharp end of her elbow rammed unapologetically against a jammed coupling that resolved a stalemate several minutes in the making. Pushing the panel closed, Conrad swung herself into the shuttle and towards the cockpit as if shot from a canon. A dancing sequence of lights was evidence finally of the diagnostic she'd been attempting to run, and though it would take only a matter of seconds to complete, it gave ample time to inspect O'Connor's progress out the viewport. Vivienne's brows knit in puzzled concern.

He was moving way too fast.

It was as the other engineer put the finishing touches on insulation reinforcement that Conrad finally traced the single fracture in the fuel line that was causing the system to override engine initialisation. Scootching past Dash, her hands holding him by the arms to make sure he stayed in place long enough to avoid getting in her way, Viv yanked up the aft access panel and lowered herself into the cramped space to complete the final repair. Under these conditions, it wouldn't be pretty and the shuttle itself would need a complete overhaul before it could be commissioned again, but as far as holding onto their asses for dear life just long enough to make it home, it would do.

If she could actually get out.

There was not an ounce of grace to the sheer stubbornness with which Conrad hauled herself upwards, an awkward placement of limbs resulting in one foot either side of the open panel with her backside pointed upwards in what was a fairly accurate depiction of her sentiments towards this entire mission. Agility allowed her to shuffle forward with minimal incident, but there was no mistaking the extra kick she afforded the deck plating as it slid back into place and she was at liberty to completely ignore a bemused Trill on her way back to the helm.

Three, two, one...

"Back in business!" Triumphantly, Vivienne craned her head to the side, her grin of satisfaction fading abruptly as O'Connor stared back from a similar vantage. Leaning forward to engage the comm. system, Conrad waited for the other shuttle to connect before declaring, "Okay, but we haven't actually made it back yet."

"Call it a draw?" Kevan shrugged. He leaned forward as a cluster of familiar faces appeared in the distance, making their way closer. "Good timing. Fire up the engines. Oh, and you can both buy me dinner. Seems fair."