Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav: Stay Busy
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Andrew B
Jun 18, 2024, 9:51:32 PM (11 days ago) Jun 18
to Gorkon IC
((Main Engineering, Deck 16))
To say Vylaa was in emotional hell was an understatement. But, at least, she wasn’t the only member of tht particular club.
Gnaxac: D-d-doz, Lieutenant Finch, g-g-good to see you’re okay.
The zhen looked up again with surprise for the second time. She’d thought Doz had beaten her to Engineering and had been puttering around this whole time. After all, Vylaa had had to detour to her babysitter first.
zh’Tisav: Get held up?
Finch: Hello you two! A little held up, yes.
zh’Tisav: I’m… going to need help checking on everyone. I don’t exactly have a clear head right now…
Finch: And no one expects you to have one either, Chief. Between all of what’s happening, heading a department, being a mother…well. Let’s just say we’ve got you. Me and Gnaxac and everyone else here.
The little Ferengi’s head bobbed to and fro, reminding Vylaa of a hologram she’d seen once of something the Humans called a “bobblehead.:
Gnaxac: Ind-d-deed, we’re here for you, and ::he looked at Finch:: each other.
Now it was Doz’s turn to nod, before both officers looked about the full space.
zh’Tisav: Then we’ll need to go over everything. I want to be ready *before* we run into the Borg.
Finch: A sound plan! I’ve an idea or two myself about some of the areas we can start with. But it’s all the usual stuff. Diagnostics followed by a bit of round the clock maintenance engineering.
Gnaxac: I’m sure there’s some mod-d-difications we could make b-b-before we run into them too.
Finch: I’ve looked through a couple of reports already—some you’ve both probably had a gander at too—and it doesn’t look as though being caught in the event horizon has done any real damage to us. Which, my god, is some sort of miracle.
Gnaxac: Well that’s something at least - g-g-good to know.
A miracle? Maybe. More like sheer dumb luck.
zh’Tisav: Response
Finch: I’m not sure how much either of you know about the Borg, but I wonder if it might be worth us getting our best brains together and pooling everything we know into one. Create a bit of a mood board so to speak. Get a meeting arranged and figure out what our priorities should be.
Gnaxac: G-g-good idea. I c-c-can’t say I’ve ever really seen the B-b-borg, b-b-but I’m willing to p-p-put our heads together.
It was a fair idea. She knew of a few of the anti-Borg tricks developed by the Imperial Guard. They were supposed to be fleet secrets, but Riv tended to mumble after...
zh’Tisav: Sounds like you’re volunteering to run that meeting, Doz.
Finch: I have every faith in this department. Every faith! And the ship? Well, if my conversations with Mister Stoyer have told me anything, it’s that this thing knows how to take a punch.
There was that Ferengi bobblehead again.
Gnaxac: Ind-d-deed; if this ship c-c-can survive the Year of Hell and everything else that’s b-b-been thrown at it, the B-b-bord should be no p-p-problem.
Vylaa’s right antenna twitched. She’d heard whispers about that particular moment in the Gorkn’s history, and Gnxac’s confident boast gave her pause. The Jem’Hadar were fierce opponents, her charan’s disfigured face was evidence enough, but the Borg were… Borg. A punch didn’t begin to describe what they were capable of.
zh’Tisav: I… hope you’re right.
Finch: Response
Gnaxac: The G-G-Gorkon is such a great ship and the c-c-crew is second to none.
Finch: Response
zh’Tisav: True, it is a good ship and crew. But still… our best chance at survival is avoidance. So let’s put a team on extending our sensor range. If we can see them before they see us...
Finch / Gnaxac: response
zh’Tisav: Plus, it’s something to focus on, instead of the what ifs…
Her cobalt eyes rose to the column of the warp core rising upward through the middle of the room. It was thrumming along at the elevated pace of a ship at warp. They could run all they wanted, but at some point they would have to face the cybernetic demon. She just hoped they were ready.
Finch / Gnaxac: response
To say Vylaa was in emotional hell was an understatement. But, at least, she wasn’t the only member of tht particular club.
Gnaxac: D-d-doz, Lieutenant Finch, g-g-good to see you’re okay.
The zhen looked up again with surprise for the second time. She’d thought Doz had beaten her to Engineering and had been puttering around this whole time. After all, Vylaa had had to detour to her babysitter first.
zh’Tisav: Get held up?
Finch: Hello you two! A little held up, yes.
zh’Tisav: I’m… going to need help checking on everyone. I don’t exactly have a clear head right now…
Finch: And no one expects you to have one either, Chief. Between all of what’s happening, heading a department, being a mother…well. Let’s just say we’ve got you. Me and Gnaxac and everyone else here.
The little Ferengi’s head bobbed to and fro, reminding Vylaa of a hologram she’d seen once of something the Humans called a “bobblehead.:
Gnaxac: Ind-d-deed, we’re here for you, and ::he looked at Finch:: each other.
Now it was Doz’s turn to nod, before both officers looked about the full space.
zh’Tisav: Then we’ll need to go over everything. I want to be ready *before* we run into the Borg.
Finch: A sound plan! I’ve an idea or two myself about some of the areas we can start with. But it’s all the usual stuff. Diagnostics followed by a bit of round the clock maintenance engineering.
Gnaxac: I’m sure there’s some mod-d-difications we could make b-b-before we run into them too.
Finch: I’ve looked through a couple of reports already—some you’ve both probably had a gander at too—and it doesn’t look as though being caught in the event horizon has done any real damage to us. Which, my god, is some sort of miracle.
Gnaxac: Well that’s something at least - g-g-good to know.
A miracle? Maybe. More like sheer dumb luck.
zh’Tisav: Response
Finch: I’m not sure how much either of you know about the Borg, but I wonder if it might be worth us getting our best brains together and pooling everything we know into one. Create a bit of a mood board so to speak. Get a meeting arranged and figure out what our priorities should be.
Gnaxac: G-g-good idea. I c-c-can’t say I’ve ever really seen the B-b-borg, b-b-but I’m willing to p-p-put our heads together.
It was a fair idea. She knew of a few of the anti-Borg tricks developed by the Imperial Guard. They were supposed to be fleet secrets, but Riv tended to mumble after...
zh’Tisav: Sounds like you’re volunteering to run that meeting, Doz.
Finch: I have every faith in this department. Every faith! And the ship? Well, if my conversations with Mister Stoyer have told me anything, it’s that this thing knows how to take a punch.
There was that Ferengi bobblehead again.
Gnaxac: Ind-d-deed; if this ship c-c-can survive the Year of Hell and everything else that’s b-b-been thrown at it, the B-b-bord should be no p-p-problem.
Vylaa’s right antenna twitched. She’d heard whispers about that particular moment in the Gorkn’s history, and Gnxac’s confident boast gave her pause. The Jem’Hadar were fierce opponents, her charan’s disfigured face was evidence enough, but the Borg were… Borg. A punch didn’t begin to describe what they were capable of.
zh’Tisav: I… hope you’re right.
Finch: Response
Gnaxac: The G-G-Gorkon is such a great ship and the c-c-crew is second to none.
Finch: Response
zh’Tisav: True, it is a good ship and crew. But still… our best chance at survival is avoidance. So let’s put a team on extending our sensor range. If we can see them before they see us...
Finch / Gnaxac: response
zh’Tisav: Plus, it’s something to focus on, instead of the what ifs…
Her cobalt eyes rose to the column of the warp core rising upward through the middle of the room. It was thrumming along at the elevated pace of a ship at warp. They could run all they wanted, but at some point they would have to face the cybernetic demon. She just hoped they were ready.
Finch / Gnaxac: response
Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav
Chief of Engineering
USS Gorkon
C238601TB0
Andrew B
Jun 22, 2024, 1:54:48 PM (7 days ago) Jun 22
to Gorkon IC
((Main Engineering, Deck 16))
Just stay busy. If Vylacould only concentrate on the tsk in front of her, keep the engineers busy, then she could banish the dark thoughts of Borg from her mind. She wouldn’t have to imagine her mates, her parents and sister, her children with dark metal implants piercing their once bright blue skin. She wouldn’t have to bite back the screams.
Just.
Stay.
Busy.
Just stay busy. If Vylacould only concentrate on the tsk in front of her, keep the engineers busy, then she could banish the dark thoughts of Borg from her mind. She wouldn’t have to imagine her mates, her parents and sister, her children with dark metal implants piercing their once bright blue skin. She wouldn’t have to bite back the screams.
Just.
Stay.
Busy.
Gnaxac: Ind-d-deed; if this ship c-c-can survive the Year of Hell and everything else that’s b-b-been thrown at it, the B-b-bord should be no p-p-problem.
Vylaa’s right antenna twitched. She’d heard whispers about that particular moment in the Gorkn’s history, and Gnxac’s confident boast gave her pause. The Jem’Hadar were fierce opponents, her charan’s disfigured face was evidence enough, but the Borg were… Borg. A punch didn’t begin to describe what they were capable of.
zh’Tisav: I… hope you’re right.
Gnaxac: The G-G-Gorkon is such a great ship and the c-c-crew is second to none.
zh’Tisav: True, it is a good ship and crew. But still… our best chance at survival is avoidance. So let’s put a team on extending our sensor range. If we can see them before they see us...
Gnaxac: I’ll g-g-get started on it.
Finch: Nice one, Mister Gnaxac! Get the sensor range extended, and we'll find our brainiacs later on. A bit of physical graft is good for the soul in any situation.
Finch: Nice one, Mister Gnaxac! Get the sensor range extended, and we'll find our brainiacs later on. A bit of physical graft is good for the soul in any situation.
zh’Tisav: Plus, it’s something to focus on, instead of the what ifs…
Her cobalt eyes rose to the column of the warp core rising upward through the middle of the room. It was thrumming along at the elevated pace of a ship at warp. They could run all they wanted, but at some point they would have to face the cybernetic demon. She just hoped they were ready.
Gnaxac: We’re living a what if, Lieut-t-tenant. B-b-but we’ll get through.
Finch: Well, come on then! Let’s crack on with it. I’m not getting any younger, you know.
Doz was right, they needed to get busy. They all needed it, something to do, even if it was just busy work. Gods knew Vylaa certainly did. Gnaxac stepped away, taking over one of the many consoles that took up the wall space around the central work area.
Gnaxac: B-b-best place to start would b-b-be d-d-distributing more power to the sensors, then seeing what else we can d-d-do to extend their range.
Finch: Exactly, love. But the question is whether we try to find some way to boost the power, or whether we take it from somewhere else.
Vyla leaned on the pool table, it’s sharp edge pressing lines into her palms. She traced the power conduits on display, searching for answers.
zh’Tisav: We’ll have to divert it from somewhere. Power generation is not infinite, there is a cap, and any “extra” power will need to be saved for defense.
The little human had moved off to a console of her own, leaving Vylaa alone at the pool table, and with her thoughts. The ship only had so much in reserve, they could only take so much before other systems started to suffer. And simply adding power usually added more problems. Components had a power rating, and exceeding that rating for too long could cause damage. It was like the old copper electrical systems; you could only pump so much energy through a wire before it melted thrugh.
Finch: We could always divert a bit of power temporarily! Call it a day or two while we figure things out and see if there’s a way to really ham up the power output. I'm all about safety, and since we’re not currently under attack, maybe we have that sort of time at least. Better that than attempting an untested boost. Seen a few dodgy ones in my time.
Gnaxac: Oh d-d-do tell.
zh’Tisav: We could… ::She glanced about the power network schematic:: I doubt anyone is going to feel like a holodeck adventure right now… Cargobay two is loaded with parts and dry goods, we can cut it back to the bare minimum.
She’d helped load it back at Andoria. Mostly crates of spare parts, and a rack of replacement EPS conduits. Items that didn’t need a controlled environment. And a couple cases of seeds for the Arboretum and hydroponics bays, but they were vacuum sealed, and in any case they were native Andorian plants, used to a harsher environment than a cold cargobay.
Finch: I remember years ago, on the Marigold, we’d found ourselves in such a pickle that we ended up having to divert power from the showers. We did it unannounced as well—it was almost worth it until our first officer stormed in ten minutes later sporting the wet look. Hah! God that woman loathed us after that.
zh’Tisav: Don’t take away the showers. ::Her antennae were moving:: I already smell them...
Finch: You wouldn’t believe half the stories. But I’ve plenty of them!
The zhen had no doubt of the truth of that statement. She’d herd some of Doz’s stories. And then heard more of Doz’s stories.
The human really liked to talk, more than most pinkskins…
Gnaxac: I’m sure you d-d-do. G-g-go on, p-p-pass the time, tell us another one!
Finch: Response
zh’Tisav: Maybe you should tell one, Gnaxac?
Gnaxac chuckled.
Gnaxac: There was one time I woke up upside d-d-down in a loo…
zh’Tisav: Woah! Nevermind! No toilet stories, I spend enough time changing diapers...
Finch: Response
zh’Tisav: Mmmm, I don’t really have many stories… Andorians don’t tell many personal stories, it’s usually legends of the old heroes like Lor’Vela, Ghalev, or Krotus the Conquerer. I could tell you one of those but I don’t think stories of Andorian wars would go over too well right now.
Finch / Gnaxac: response
The zhen lifted a hand to rub the spot where here right antenna met her forehead. Emotions were running high, high enough even for her poor ability to pick up in whispers that ghosted across her frontal lobe. And they brought a whole new level of anguish. She wondered if the Borg would have even bothered with the blind Aenar, or if her northern cousins had been exterminted.
Her gaze returned to the MSD on the surface in front of her. All the better to hide her watery eyes.
zh’Tisav: I think we’ll have to look into extending the range of the sensor components themselves. We can remove some of the limiters for a start.
Finch / Gnaxac: response
Finch: Well, come on then! Let’s crack on with it. I’m not getting any younger, you know.
Doz was right, they needed to get busy. They all needed it, something to do, even if it was just busy work. Gods knew Vylaa certainly did. Gnaxac stepped away, taking over one of the many consoles that took up the wall space around the central work area.
Gnaxac: B-b-best place to start would b-b-be d-d-distributing more power to the sensors, then seeing what else we can d-d-do to extend their range.
Finch: Exactly, love. But the question is whether we try to find some way to boost the power, or whether we take it from somewhere else.
Vyla leaned on the pool table, it’s sharp edge pressing lines into her palms. She traced the power conduits on display, searching for answers.
zh’Tisav: We’ll have to divert it from somewhere. Power generation is not infinite, there is a cap, and any “extra” power will need to be saved for defense.
The little human had moved off to a console of her own, leaving Vylaa alone at the pool table, and with her thoughts. The ship only had so much in reserve, they could only take so much before other systems started to suffer. And simply adding power usually added more problems. Components had a power rating, and exceeding that rating for too long could cause damage. It was like the old copper electrical systems; you could only pump so much energy through a wire before it melted thrugh.
Finch: We could always divert a bit of power temporarily! Call it a day or two while we figure things out and see if there’s a way to really ham up the power output. I'm all about safety, and since we’re not currently under attack, maybe we have that sort of time at least. Better that than attempting an untested boost. Seen a few dodgy ones in my time.
Gnaxac: Oh d-d-do tell.
zh’Tisav: We could… ::She glanced about the power network schematic:: I doubt anyone is going to feel like a holodeck adventure right now… Cargobay two is loaded with parts and dry goods, we can cut it back to the bare minimum.
She’d helped load it back at Andoria. Mostly crates of spare parts, and a rack of replacement EPS conduits. Items that didn’t need a controlled environment. And a couple cases of seeds for the Arboretum and hydroponics bays, but they were vacuum sealed, and in any case they were native Andorian plants, used to a harsher environment than a cold cargobay.
Finch: I remember years ago, on the Marigold, we’d found ourselves in such a pickle that we ended up having to divert power from the showers. We did it unannounced as well—it was almost worth it until our first officer stormed in ten minutes later sporting the wet look. Hah! God that woman loathed us after that.
zh’Tisav: Don’t take away the showers. ::Her antennae were moving:: I already smell them...
Finch: You wouldn’t believe half the stories. But I’ve plenty of them!
The zhen had no doubt of the truth of that statement. She’d herd some of Doz’s stories. And then heard more of Doz’s stories.
The human really liked to talk, more than most pinkskins…
Gnaxac: I’m sure you d-d-do. G-g-go on, p-p-pass the time, tell us another one!
Finch: Response
zh’Tisav: Maybe you should tell one, Gnaxac?
Gnaxac chuckled.
Gnaxac: There was one time I woke up upside d-d-down in a loo…
zh’Tisav: Woah! Nevermind! No toilet stories, I spend enough time changing diapers...
Finch: Response
zh’Tisav: Mmmm, I don’t really have many stories… Andorians don’t tell many personal stories, it’s usually legends of the old heroes like Lor’Vela, Ghalev, or Krotus the Conquerer. I could tell you one of those but I don’t think stories of Andorian wars would go over too well right now.
Finch / Gnaxac: response
The zhen lifted a hand to rub the spot where here right antenna met her forehead. Emotions were running high, high enough even for her poor ability to pick up in whispers that ghosted across her frontal lobe. And they brought a whole new level of anguish. She wondered if the Borg would have even bothered with the blind Aenar, or if her northern cousins had been exterminted.
Her gaze returned to the MSD on the surface in front of her. All the better to hide her watery eyes.
zh’Tisav: I think we’ll have to look into extending the range of the sensor components themselves. We can remove some of the limiters for a start.
Finch / Gnaxac: response
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