Spider Webs and Stranded Men

Posted on Mon Jun 20th, 2016 @ 9:14pm by

Mission: Mission 1 - Bridges
Location: SS Mary Rose - Cargo Hold
Timeline: MD 02 0830 Hrs
3256 words - 6.5 OF Standard Post Measure

ON;

Barton stepped out of the Jeffrey's tube, the turbolifts still did not function below deck 18 and he’d wanted to check on the hydroponics stores being loaded. He’d sold so much of the sickbay to pay for the fuel, that he thought Doc might like to grow ginger and herbs to help in his physicking. Not like there was going to be a lot else to aid him in his trade.

He moved between the now full deuterium tanks and, via a small access corridor, entered into the main fusion control room. The core was humming away nicely, life pulsing through it in tune with some harsh-toned Klingon operetta; the sound of which was punching so forcefully into the deck walls that the floors shook. Barton assumed creatures could only make such guttural utterances on their death beds, with spears puncturing them. Barak-Kadan, if he was not mistaken.

As he walked the corridor into the main cargo bay, the song become crisper and louder. The wide space of the hold and the expansive nature of the dramatic music, made it feel like he was walking into a theater. Barton almost expected to see Klingon singers performing a daring rendition of Aktuh and Maylota, on the catwalk of Deck 17.

He found Taben’s legs sticking out from an access plate over the other side of the bay. He called out several times, but his somewhat meek voice was quashed by the brogue of the Klingons bleating, rather like a heel stubbing out the end of a burning cigarette.

“TABEN” He screamed again, the Trill must be able to hear him now, he was practically upon him. Barton squatted down to the ground, grabbed the edge of the wheeled skid the Engineer was laying on, and yanked his new spanner jockey out from the hole.

“Computer, cease!” he ordered, the music suddenly abating, leaving a hole of silence in it’s wake. He glared down at Taben a minute, then grinned and gave him a friendly slap on the knee. “You should have a headache, I have an ex who is easier to listen to than what ever you call that yodeling.”

Taben shot Harkins a look of feigned irritation as he resisted the urge to chuckle at the remark of his ex. Clearly, his facade wasn't quite working. "Meh--it's beautiful art and it helps me recalibrate this piece of shit relay." He leaned up from his skid, sitting upright as he wiped off some grease from his face. "If you listen closely to the cadence and dissonance you not only have spine-chilling major third-cords, but you also have a mathematical road-map to follow." Taben shrugged, as if realizing his words were unlikely to be understood.

It had been a very long day. The ship was in a severe state of disrepair and there was so much work to be done. On Starfleet ships, Taben often lamented the lack of work to be done as everything was almost always in tip-top shape. He would yearn for some sort of combat to knock systems offline just to alleviate his boredom. Never could he imagine having too much work for him to handle--but damn, this beautiful dustbucket was certainly pushing the limits of his imagination.

"So anyhow--what did you want?" Taben inquired unceremoniously as he wiped his hands clean, indulging in a moment of rest.

Taben had proven to be the perfect man for this job. Not only because he worked like a horse, burning through the night like it was nothing, but because he readily accepted what he had to work with. Most of the universes top egg-heads would balk at the SS Mary Rose, they’d down right laugh when showed what tools, spares and time frame they were given. Taben just grinned and implied that it would not be pretty, but it would work. Still, Barton knew what those red-eyes meant and he’d have to keep an eye on that. A comatose mechanic was no good to him, not when something broke 60+ light years from nearest help and he was the only one onboard with a toolk-kit.

“Nice job bypassing the burnt conduit in the energizer relay.” Barton gestured behind and above him, the high-bay looked like a spider web of wires, they criss-crossed this way and that in huge bundles. “I truly appreciate there now being enough atmosphere on Deck two, for my office affects to be bought on board.” He said a little sarcastically, though in reality he was relieved to see his personal library dragged into his ready-room. Barton needed his book cases and writing desk, they’d followed him about half the galaxy, it just wasn’t home without them.

He let a more serious glint cross his pale blue-eyes “Now Taben, I know what is needed is conduits, you told me already, and if I hadn’t just battered the tractor beam array for a new deflector emitter, I’d give them to you.” He hoped that was a soft way to deliver the news. Taben had already been very stern in directing that Barton drag nothing more off the ship. As it was, there was hardly a seat left to sit on. “But I need to fill this whole hold. I need to pack it so tight that a darned nickel can’t be squeezed between the haul and wall. I can’t do that with a suspension bridge of electrical wire strung at mid-height! Wire however is cheap and there is plenty of it to spare Taben, whole reams of it - wrap it around the catwalk, clean it up.” Barton stretched back up to his feet. “Soon enough, I’ll buy you so many conduits you can light this baby up like a christmas tree. Oh And fix my turbo-lifts.”

"Oh honey, you're so demanding and keep making me promises you can't deliver," Taben replied sarcastically as he shot his 'boss' a mischievous grin. He took in a deep sigh as he let out a grunt, "Look, I get it, you're trying to make a profit filling the bay to the brim--but you've actually got to have your damn ship be able to get you from point A to B to actually make some fucking money." The engineer snickered as a thought entered into his mind, "Unless, that is, you want this ship to be a self-storage thing or something."

Taben looked up at the ceiling as if contemplating options as he sighed deeply, "Look--I can re-route all this wiring to the catwalk, but that will take at least a day to do--which means your precious turbolifts are going to have to wait." Taben shrugged, "So it's up to you, you want to zoom around the ship faster, or do you want me to spend my day raising the wires a few feet?" Taben lifted a finger playfully as he continued, "And before you sound like my ex's, don't tell me you want both done at the same time, or I will shove this hyperspanner down your throat until you choke to death."

“Oddly enough, this isn’t the first time death has been threatened to me via such a method. Though seriously, your breaks-ups must have been worthy of a mission report by the sounds of it” Barton looked around the hold as he considered what best to do.

In a short order, Taben had power and enviromentals running, the fusion reactor humming and the energizer active. He was rather a miracle worker and Barton appreciated his skill. More over, Barton respected the Trills direct approach to his work. With Taben, there was no second guessing, if-whats and maybes, could-be’s and perhaps’. As an Engineer, he simply told you what he could do and how long it would take him, leaving only the final decision up to Barton. It was perfect, although it was no wonder the man was not liked in Starfleet. As an outfit, they were as bent up over please and thank you’s as they were over time travel.

“Alright” Barton finally came to a decision and gestured back toward the access hole. “Squirrel your way back in there and finish up with the lifts, loading will go a lot quicker that way. How much of this re-wiring do you think can be done on the move? We are out on our own in a week and a half, whether were space-ready or not! I’d like to have the deflector emitter running before that, stop us getting blown to pieces by space dust. Guess your web can wait, we’ll call it decor for now.”

"Sure," Taben replied non-nonchalantly with a shrug, "Turbolifts are next on the list then." He looked up at the wiring as he did some quick mental calculations in his head, "Re-wiring on the go shouldn't be too much of a problem--of course, some of these wires connect to critical systems. Mostly on this deck we have connections to the primary EPS grid--so it'll be a bit hairy doing it on the fly though." Taben shot a sheepish grin as he continued, "Certainly nothing that would fit into Starfleet safety regs--but fuck it, I think I can do it just fine. Worst case scenario you blow out an EPS grid on a deck and it takes me a couple of days to repair it."

The Trill pulled out his engineering kit as he fiddled with a few of his tools before continuing, "As for the main deflector, I can get the basic navigational deflector up and running no problem, 24-48 hours max." After sifting through a few items in his toolkit, he finally found the PADD he was looking for. He pulled it out and began opening it to a specific file, "It's pretty fucked up though--if you want to utilize any of the Deflector's advanced functions, we're gonna have to buy a few critical components." He handed the PADD over to the Captain as he continued. "These old Constitution class ships combine a lot of the long-range sensor functions with the deflector--they're old Duotronic systems, you see--so our long-range sensor capability will be severely hampered until we have those components, and there's just no way I can bypass them."

Barton sighed, he was beginning to think he might just have bitten off more then he could chew.

“This ship will be the death of me, I’m sure of it.” He gave Taben a pointed look. “Death of us all probably, crazy sots flying in a bucket so old it’s practically built out of wood.” Shifting a bundle of wires on the ground with his foot, Barton looked around the hold. Never afore had he seen such a piece meal of a space. The sight of it made him smile “Still better than anything built in the last 70 plus years though. Look at this, what other vessel could you bypass every other system in and get away with it.”

Taben let out a boyish grin as he looked around the hold with pride, "Hell yeah--that's why I love this baby, and it's nice to finally be on a ship where I'm actually able to do whatever the hell I want to keep things going." Taben waved his arms about, waving his arms in the air as he continued, "She may be a hunk of junk--but she's a damned well built hunk of junk. Despite her rough edges--she'll take you where you need to go. Especially since you've got the best damned engineer in the quadrant maintaining her. Just don't get in my way and listen to me when I tell you what I need to get things done--we'll all be alright."

Barton gave a weak willed salute, using only his index and middle finger instead of his whole palm. “Yes sir.” He mumbled a little distracted.

There was no real time, certainly no money, to go getting more components. Hurtling at warp without long-range sensors was a little bit hair-raising, even for him, but it looked like they were out of choices. A good pilot could do it he figured, perhaps he should also inquire about crew with some science back ground, have a decent hand manning Rosie’s piss poor scanners. More things to add to his ever gROwing to-do list.

“When you’ve time, which granted I know will not be for few months, write me up a list of what you need in order to make her fly right. Nothing fancy mind, think basic, then lower it three steps. That’s your ceiling. This has to be bare bones, and do it in order of highest priority to least.” He gave the Engineer a sympathetic wince, “Glad it’s you in those overalls and not me, this mess would do my head in! Do what you can for the emitter, let’s bypass those scanners for now and deal with that after our first run. If we’re still alive then, well get those components”

Taben nodded with a slightly frustrated expression. Despite his expression he understood all too well the practicalities that a Captain had to keep in mind commanding a ship such as this. One of the few benefits of being an engineer in Starfleet was that you never wanted for parts--but that benefits was far outweighed by the cons. Besides--there was a somewhat exhilarating challenge of having to be creative and inventive to keep the ship together with a shortage of decent parts.

"I have a few, erm, let's just say "contacts" who might be able to assist us down the road when you've got some latinum or cargo to trade," Taben said in a near-whisper. He didn't really know why he was whispering given it was just the two of them in the room--just habit, he supposed. "I'll contact them at the appropriate time--they've got a good inventory, provided you don't ask too many questions. In the meantime, it shouldn't be too difficult to bypass those scanners and move things to the lateral sensor array to give you at least some mid-range sensors. That's going to be the extent of them, though."

“You’re a genius Taben, granted I’ve no real concept of what you just said, but if it works then do it. Reach out to your contacts, we’ll have something to offer them soon enough and I’m famous for not asking questions. Or is that infamous... I can never recall”

A loud clunking sound filled the hold as a group of four men alighted from the lift which protruded into the bay mid-way along it’s length. Between them, a crate standing about 9 foot tall was awkwardly hefted and somewhat harshly dropped to the ground. An uncustomary smile bloomed over Barton's face.

“Our savior is aboard.” He said to no one in particular, addressing Taben merely because he was closest to him. “A souvenir from a... let’s call it a salvage job, from many years ago.”

Taben gave Barton another blank gaze as he blinked his eyebrows. Damn this guy was strictness as hell. Taben wasn't sure whether or not to be amused or annoyed. Ah hell--he was really both. He rolled his eyes a bit as he turned his attention to the box, awaiting what crazy thing the Captain had to show him next.

After a brief hunt, Barton found an old fashioned pry bar amongst a pile of more direct looking tooling equipment. It took him a few goes to pry the front of the crate open, his body lacked any true muscular definition which would have otherwise made the job easy.

As soon as the front fell away, the statue inside glinted like a star, catching the strong flood lights and reflecting them as if the rays emitted from somewhere deep inside the figure. It was a woman woman, cast in some cheap iron but plated to appear made of the finest gold. She stood tall and proud despite her nakedness. Poised lightly on one foot, a receding leg drawn away, she seemed modelled in the image of a fine dancer, sweeping across some overly polished floor like a leaf caught in the wind. Her back was arched, her stomach taught, her breasts full and perfectly shaped. In her hands, a bow was drawn taught, the arrow ready to be loosed upon it’s intended prey.

“Taben, meet Diana, Roman goddess of the hunt. I thought it fitting to attach her to the front of the Dorsal Deck, just above the Torpedo Tubes? Closest thing we have to a Brow Spit.”

Taben took in a deep sigh as he placed his hand on his forehead. "Look--it's very lovely but I've got a hell of a lot to do to get this ship back into shape and I don't have time to place baubles on the torpedo tubes. You're on your own getting that thing installed."

Now Taben's mind was filled with mental images of the scrawny man out on the hull in EVA, desperately trying to install the giant statue right above the torpedo tubes. There wasn't anything that could possibly go wrong there...and damn, it was a funny mental image too. What a strange guy.

Barton was a little disgruntled, but he let none of it show. He’d not fly without the visage attached to the hull of the ship, not for any particular reason, he just wouldn’t. Another of his eccentricities perhaps, he’d stopped guessing at his motives long ago, sometimes he just accepted he felt a certain way about a particular thing.

“That’s likely fair.” He admitted, “You’ve more than your share of work to do. And don’t think I can see that smirk, I’m not so proud that I can’t admit to being superstitious. To many mysterious out there for me to be anything but.” He place a hand on the cool metal of the statue. “We’ll need all the help we can get, if I have to beg on bended knee to the gods of old for that, then so be it. Besides, she’s my declaration, telling the whole universe that were not about to forget what everyone else out there is busily trying to forget. We’re all just savages Taben, brutes who learnt how to walk and talk and grasp at clubs with their opposable thumbs. They’ll tell you it’s prime directive that sets us apart from the rest, but it’s not, it’s our art and our poetry and myths. That’s all there is between us and the apes, or what ever creature it is you Trills evolved from.”

Withdrawing his hand, Barton turned to face the Trill Engineer, the pleasant smile obvious on his face. “You just make sure we don’t fly apart when we leave here, I’ll ensure we appease the powers that be.” He gave Taben a slap on the shoulder, before moving to the Lift. He had a ready-room to organize, and a bridge to see too.

"What a strange little man," Taben said to himself under his breath as Barton began moving to the lift. "At least he's somewhat amusing..." The Trill shrugged as he leaned back down on the ground and returned to his repairs. He had a hell of a lot of work to do, and little time to do it.

OFF;

Barton Harkins
Captain
SS Mary Rose

Taben Natal
Chief Technician
SS Mary Rose