Post by Cmdr. Tucker on Dec 15, 2008 20:28:29 GMT -5
"I don't believe this. That's the third conduit that's blown this week."
Commander Charles Tucker III, more commonly known as Trip, dashed his hand against a nearby panel, after checking that in doing so he wouldn't hit any buttons and cause an accidental power overload or some other such calamity. He was sitting on the floor in a nook of engineering, hyper spanner in one hand and datapad in the other, head twisted awkwardly to get a full view of the faulty conduit. With a sigh of frustration, he handed both tools to an assistant engineer and got to his feet, groaning as he stretched cramped muscles.
“Well, I dunno what to say,” he admitted, bending down to replace the cover panel over the conduit. “It’s all fixed now, but I can’t guarantee how long the darn thing will stay that way.” Straightening, he cocked his head in question at the other engineer. “Y’sure that diagnostic you ran the other day didn’t show anything?”
The other shook his head. “No, sir. Everything was normal.”
Trip shrugged, taking back the datapad and frowning at the readings. “Well, I’ll run a few more scans. And if that doesn’t do anything, we’ll just have to purge the antimatter flow. Maybe a contaminant got in there somehow.”
Muttering to himself, Trip walked over to a nearby console and started up yet another scan. Tossing the datapad back to the assistant, he instructed, “Let me know when that scan’s finished. And keep an eye on the warp reactor - we don’t want any accidental get-togethers with the matter and antimatter. If anything comes up, just drop me a message on the intercom.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rubbing his aching neck, Trip headed off to the mess hall. He’d caught a rumor that pecan pie was on the menu, and that thought brightened his outlook considerably as he stepped out smartly, vaguely running through the names of old Earth cinema features in his mind; he’d need to choose one for tonight’s movie night.
(I dunno, it's not my best work, but it just came to me, so I'll stick with it.)
Commander Charles Tucker III, more commonly known as Trip, dashed his hand against a nearby panel, after checking that in doing so he wouldn't hit any buttons and cause an accidental power overload or some other such calamity. He was sitting on the floor in a nook of engineering, hyper spanner in one hand and datapad in the other, head twisted awkwardly to get a full view of the faulty conduit. With a sigh of frustration, he handed both tools to an assistant engineer and got to his feet, groaning as he stretched cramped muscles.
“Well, I dunno what to say,” he admitted, bending down to replace the cover panel over the conduit. “It’s all fixed now, but I can’t guarantee how long the darn thing will stay that way.” Straightening, he cocked his head in question at the other engineer. “Y’sure that diagnostic you ran the other day didn’t show anything?”
The other shook his head. “No, sir. Everything was normal.”
Trip shrugged, taking back the datapad and frowning at the readings. “Well, I’ll run a few more scans. And if that doesn’t do anything, we’ll just have to purge the antimatter flow. Maybe a contaminant got in there somehow.”
Muttering to himself, Trip walked over to a nearby console and started up yet another scan. Tossing the datapad back to the assistant, he instructed, “Let me know when that scan’s finished. And keep an eye on the warp reactor - we don’t want any accidental get-togethers with the matter and antimatter. If anything comes up, just drop me a message on the intercom.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rubbing his aching neck, Trip headed off to the mess hall. He’d caught a rumor that pecan pie was on the menu, and that thought brightened his outlook considerably as he stepped out smartly, vaguely running through the names of old Earth cinema features in his mind; he’d need to choose one for tonight’s movie night.
(I dunno, it's not my best work, but it just came to me, so I'll stick with it.)
