Ens. Nolen Hobart — For Whom the Maintenance Man Tolls
Nolen Hobart
((The Starboard Bow, Deck 6, USS Arrow))
The Starboard Bow was exactly where, if not how, Ensign Hobart had left it, the night of the grand opening. But it could have been how he left it. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember leaving it, truth be told, but he remembered waking up somewhere else, and, superbly deduced that he had, in fact, left.
There was, however, a minute possibility that there had been some incident with the transporter. Perhaps while Nolen had gone about his business in the last mission, there was some bearded body-double living it up in the ship’s lounge. It was a thing that happened in Starfleet, Nolen knew, and though infrequent in terms of the number of transporters used on a daily basis, it wasn’t so rare as to be ruled out.
And these were the thoughts that occupied Ensign Hobart’s mind as the young Betazoid hybrid approached the entrance to the Starboard Bow for only the second time in his life. For he had not been back to the lounge since, out of shame, embarrassment, and a desire not to ruin the fun for his theoretical body double. As the doors parted, he shifted the weight of the loops of flexible spare plasma conduits on his shoulders, and gripped his large toolkit tightly. And as he stepped in, he was surprised at whom he found waiting there. Not a body double, but the Magna Roman Security Chief who had (Nolen had been told) endured roughly twenty minutes of pontification by an inebriated Ensign Hobart upon the subject of Magna Roman wines, a topic about which a perfectly-sober Ensign Hobart would freely admit he knew absolutely nothing about.
Nolen’s heart raced, his mind blared angry red klaxons as he went to red alert, and his fight or flight instincts yanked back on the controls to make him turn around and leave. But where would he go? What would he do with all these conduits? Who else could he trick into tearing up the floor of Commander Serinus’s pride and joy?
As he stood there, awkwardly, Artinus raised his glass of… some kind of red wine, Nolen guessed… in salute.
Serinus: Ensign Hobart.
Hobart:: Commander Serinus! ::stammering:: I, ah, heh, good to see you, sir…?
It hadn’t been intended as a question, but it came out that way. As anxious as Nolen was, the Commander seemed wholly unflapped.
Serinus: How goes the Engineering department?
Ensign Hobart made mental note of the fact that he had not, yet, been ordered to turn around and leave. He counted it as a blessing, but the discordance between his own expectations (based on Cadet Perim’s summary) and what he was finding was unnerving. Like a cat deposited into a house reeking of dog, Nolen moved carefully as he set down the toolkit and the conduit spool by the door.
Hobart: We, ah, go just about everywhere, these days, sir. ::gesturing to the gear:: EPS grid overhaul.
Serinus: Response
Nolen knelt beside his toolkit and opened it. The Starboard Bow, unlike other compartments, was designed for comfort more than utility. It had a carpet, and the fabric tiles didn’t necessarily line up over the deck plating beneath. In fact, he was confident they wouldn’t. As he checked the settings on his plasma cutter, he winced at how messy he expected it would become.
Hobart: Well, leave’s the best time to do it. Ship’s empty, means I don’t need to be too strict about closing sections off, and not so many people will mind when things go dark a bit.
Serinus: Response
The young engineer consulted his PADD briefly to confirm the whereabouts of the particular run of conduit that he was about to replace, doing his best to ignore the feelings inspired in Serinus by the sight of impending doom. With the room’s carpet — perfect for sound-deadening — his toe-tapping strategy wouldn’t be nearly as effective here as it was in Sickbay.
Hobart: No, sir, lights stay on here. ::gesturing to the pile beside him:: This is for the main deflector, and that’s already offline. But power runs between this compartment and the hull.
Serinus: Response?
Ensign Hobart looked off toward the windows. From where he sat, he could see Freecloud lit up beneath them, if he craned his neck.
Hobart: ::indicating by the sloped window:: …right over there. Half a meter beneath the deck plating, length of the wall.
A worried look crossed Nolen’s face.
Hobart: That, uh, bar. Is it removable?
Serinus: Response?
TAG/TBC
———
Ensign Nolen Hobart
Engineering Officer
USS Arrow (NCC-69829)
A240001NH3