USS Armstrong

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Bad Day

Posted on Mon Jul 29th, 2019 @ 11:04am by Chief Warrant Officer Jeredak

Mission: Groping in the Dark
Location: Engineering
Timeline: MD1 - 1400 Hours

Ensign Jamieson was having a bad day.

It started when he woke up twenty minutes before his alarm with a hangover that left him with a throbbing in his skull that neither breakfast nor his morning shower could completely eliminate.

He never should have accepted the drink of that vile Ferengi liquor the Chief had offered him to celebrate his "Naming Day" the night before.

The ensign winced at the memory as he made his way out of his quarters. The Chief was a truly strange sentient with a bizarre sense of humor. On any other ship, being caught at your station covered in the exploded remains of four Bio-Gel packs with nothing to offer other than an embarrassed apology and some incoherent babble about "intelligent magnetic field manipulation" would have ended with at least an official reprimand for his permanent record or even brig time... but nooooo, not on the Armstrong!

Jamieson slowed down as he approached the hatch to Main Engineering. He was not looking forward to his first shift after “the Incident,” even less so everyone using the new nickname the Chief had bestowed upon him. Everyone must have heard the story by now!

With a resigned sigh, he gathered his courage and moved to enter engineering.

That was when his day got much worse.

This time when he woke up his hangover was forgotten, the ache in his scalp replaced by the searing pain from his nose which, given the amount of blood on the floor next to his face, was almost certainly broken.

As he got to his knees, staring frantically around while he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened, he heard a familiar voice right next to his ear and he was briskly hauled to his feet by a pair of small but powerful hands.

“Now now Mister Slimy, no time for daydreaming, there’s work to be done!”

Master Chief Warrant Officer Jeredak—a spritely old Ferengi known to the crew simply as “the Chief”—flashed him an impish grin while he marched briskly to the main engineering console.

“Smokey! I was gone less than five minutes, what did you let them do to my ship!" Jeredak said, shaking his head. “We overhauled the navi-computer just last week so don’t be telling me they actually managed to hit something in the vast emptiness of space!”

Smokey—a jovial Bolian known on formal occasions as Senior Petty Officer Suliban—looked over at the Chief from his seat on the floor, his grin only partially hidden by the hands of the crewman currently applying a dermal sealant to a long cut on his forehead.

“No smoking consoles or blown conduits, emergency lighting’s engaged but the warp core is stable, only injuries are my new decoration and Slimy’s nose, the bridge says we hit some kind of gravimetric distortion that wasn’t on the local charts.”

Jeredak gave an exasperated sigh and he began furiously typing away at his console.

“Yeah, sure, uncharted distortion. And just how did navigation not detect it? Bah! Whatever, we’ll figure it out later! I made a promise to the captain, 95% uptime on all major systems for the whole patrol, and I plan to keep it!"

By this point, Suliban had made it to his own station on the other side of the warp core and was also keying in commands, if at a much more leisurely pace then his commanding officer.

“Well, lucky for you I was already running a system diagnostic for my shift change report when that railing jumped up and bit me." Suliban began loading data from his terminal onto several datapads. "Looks like no more than a dozen shorts, mostly in the main deflector’s power relays. Three minor hull breaches. Permission to take a shuttle out to patch them up and give the ship a once-over?”

Jeredak grunted, never looking up from his screen. “Granted, but get the teams assigned to those shorts first before you go on your little pleasure cruise.”

Without a word, Suliban started handing datapads to nearby crewmen, assigning them in teams of three to repairs scattered across the ship.

By this point, Ensign Jamison had managed to staunch the bleeding from his nose, make his way to his normal station, and start running a diagnostic on the ship's computer systems.

“Chief, the main computer seems to be functioning just fine, but the Bio-Gel packs that support the main viewer aren’t responding to reset commands.”

He regretted saying anything the second the words left his mouth, more so when he heard Suliban chuckling behind him.

“Well then Slimy, you're our gel pack expert, sounds like you should head on up and...”

A cough from Jeredak’s station caused Suliban to pause mid-sentence.

“This ain't no merchant ship, Smokey! That’s an ensign you’re talkin’ to." Jeredak’s grin held a hint of censure. "You should be referring to his august personage as Mister Slimy or Ensign Slimy isn’t that right?”

Suliban gave an embarrassed cough. “Ah, right you are sir, begging the ensign’s forgiveness?”

Before Jamieson could even frame a response, Jeredak interjected once again.

“Oh, I’m quite sure he forgives you, especially considering you and I still have to find a way to explain the loss of four perfectly good gel packs to the Captain." He stroked one of his lobes in thought for a moment before his grin appeared once more. "Smokey, we’re going to have to put your little excursion on hold for the moment. I’m going to take Ensign Slimy up to the bridge and see if we can’t convince that neural cluster to behave itself and get the viewer online."

Jeredak spun about with a casual gesture toward Jamieson to follow him. "At which point he and I will return here and you can take your pleasure cruise." Jeredak winked at Jamison as they passed through the hatch into the hallway. "And you can provide me a thorough explanation of what you were trying to achieve last night.”

Jamieson swallowed a nervous chuckle as he followed Jeredak to the nearest turbo lift.

At least his day couldn’t get worse.

 

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