[ACT 1] Capt Roshanara Rahman & LtCmdr Tristam Core: Passion Project (Part 2)

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Deliera Jay

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Oct 19, 2017, 5:48:14 AM10/19/17
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((Back up on Deck 4, Outpost 3))

::She took a slow breath.::


Rahman: What you’ve done here, Tristam, is nothing short of miraculous. How you’ve managed to keep this station from falling apart from the slightest sneeze...


::There was a pause as Tristam chewed on his bottom lip.::


Core: Yeah, I think I was sent here to test my sanity.


Rahman: Well, consider it finished then. Your nightmare is over.


Core: Oh? Because this is essentially war against a tiny survey station - I’ve got a small crew of about twelve people, and the station is much bigger than all of them put together. The stabilizers? Cobbled together with engine parts from our civilian crew’s ship and a thruster from our shuttle - which, you’re never getting back by the way. Sorry.


Rahman: Yes, I would not be surprised if more of this station is parts-from-ship than station.


::She gave another look up across the ceiling before taking another deep breath.::


Rahman: And so that’s why I think we need to declare it officially a total loss.


::He choked on air, eyes wide as he tried sucking in a breath. Finally, having regaining some semblance of composure, an incredibly deep frown struck his face, hands on his hips as he leaned forward.::


Core: I beg your pardon?


Rahman: Look, your job when you first got here was to assess the damage and see if the station was salvageable. I understand how difficult that can be at the start--without a full picture. And I can also understand once you’ve started working on fixing something, you might lose sight of the bigger picture-


Core: Hold on a minute, my orders were to *repair the damage*. I’ve even been afforded the resources to do that - the issue is that they’re not due here til Tuesday.


Rahman: Tuesday? Next week?


::He coughed again, chewing his lip again.::


Core: I’ve been here . . . nine weeks? So . . . eight Tuesdays time.


::She just looked at him for a moment. Maybe she had spoken too soon about his sanity.::


::When she spoke again, her voice was more measured, trying to keep him calm.::


Rahman: ...Tristam. As I was saying, sometimes we can get a little lost in our work to be unable to admit when it’s better to walk away. All the effort and resources spent to bring this station back to operational status could probably assemble three or four stations from pre-fabricated sections in the same time.


::He blinked at her.::


Core: Roshanara, is this a personal opinion, or are you seriously ordering me to throw away four months of my time, where not only me but a group of Coalition *civilians* have either been injured or tested with ridiculous feats of Engineering.


::She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a moment, her voice still soft.::


Rahman: Tristam, there is *literally* a toilet seat welded onto that bulkhead to seal an atmospheric containment breach.


Core: We ran out of sealant- no, wait, that’s not the point! The point is, we’ve had to use every scrap we have until such time bulkheads arrive, which will be this time next week, legitimately.


::She looked at him, and as absurd as it was to see him standing there arguing about the merits of saving this piss poor excuse for a station, it was also the first time in a long while she’d seen him argue so passionately about something to do not with her or Starfleet protocols but about genuine goddamn engineering. It was nearly enough to make her heart melt.::


::She gave him an earnest look.::


Rahman: ...you really think this station is worth saving?


::He sighed, running a hand through some untamed hair.::


Core: It took me two months to get here. I’ve spent another two months living in a shuttlecraft getting this place into somewhat working order. When the rest of my Starfleet crew actually turn up, we’ll be back on schedule to work on the communications array. But for now, we have to make sure essential systems are working - we have to make sure there are no leaks, that we don’t have to rely on containment fields, or breathers, to work on these decks.


::He huffed walking away from her to point at the field generator that was keeping them from being (once again) sucked out into space.::


Core: Since we got the last two decks up and running, we haven’t had to worry about safety concerns. The plan is to reinforce these bulkheads-


::He’d made the mistake of slapping one of the upper bulkheads, causing what seemed to be a hidden panel to spring open, a shower of . . . seeds? Large seeds, pouring down onto the deck plating.::


Core: ...I swear this was not here yesterday.


::Roshanara knelt down to examine the fallen bead-like objects more closely. She picked one up between her fingers, bringing it into the light.::


Rahman: What did you say this section of the station was used for?


Core: This is deck four, so it housed the sensor mainframe to track the Mother Road.


::She frowned as she took out her tricorder to confirm her suspicion: felicium. She’d been briefed about the addictive narcotic when she’d taken command of the Veritas but this was the first time she’d seen it in person. And that meant this station wasn’t going anywhere while they investigated.::


Rahman: Well, I guess you’ve got your wish.


TBC...


Capt. Roshanara Rahman

Commanding Officer, USS Veritas

I238705TZ0


&


Lt. Cmdr. Tristam Core

Components Engineer

C238803SB0

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