PNPC 1LT Alene Torado — You Blew It
Nolen Hobart
((Deflector Control, Deck 15, USS Khitomer, Lagoon Nebula))
The task complete, Alene rolled onto her back again, and gripped the wrench and fuse to her chest.
Torado: All set in here. Pull me out?
C. Matthews: If you two are good to help the Lieutenant, I’ll get to resetting the shield matrix.
Thalev: We’ve got you sir. ::gets on one side, waiting for Croix. Then pulls::
Croix: Responses
C. Matthews: They’ll have you out in a hot second, Torado! ::mutters to himself:: Though if it takes a minute or two longer, I won’t be too disheartened.
First Lieutenant Alene Torado rolled her eyes as she felt two pairs of hands grab her ankles. Between them, Croix and Thalev had more than enough strength to extract the marine from the crawlspace but her eyeroll turned into a grimace when her backside clipped a hard edge and she felt a pinch when the pair of officers dragged her out. When she was far enough out, she reached up and grabbed hold of the offered arms. Together, they pulled her to her feet.
Thalev: ::holds his hand out:: Up and at’m, sir.
Torado: Oooh, that smarts. ::checking her pants for tears:: Thanks. Ever murdered a Lieutenant?
She looked back into the crawlspace. It looked a lot bigger from out here, and she knew the blue glow from the operable fuses couldn’t be that much brighter than before she climbed in, but it sure seemed like it. Satisfied with her work, she shot a glance to the thoroughly unhelpful Lieutenant Charles Matthews. She was going to have to bust out the heavy duty nicknames after this.
Thalev: You’re welcome sir.
Croix: Response
She nodded and smiled at the two others, but their attention was all drawn towards Matthews when an alarm bleeped out a warning at the console.
C. Matthews: Uh-oh…
Thalev: Uh-oh what? ::looks over their shoulder:: What did you do?!
Croix: Response
Despite the many exhortations around him, Matthews was too focused on his hands to use his mouth. Well, in any useful way. Thalev moved to read over his shoulder.
Torado: Chuckles…?
Thalev: Is that saying what I think it’s saying? Were we too late?
C. Matthews: We need to go.
Thalev: Just out of curiosity? How many ships have tried to kill you?
Torado: Obviously not enough. ::to Matthews:: Fix it!
C. Matthews / Croix: Responses
Alene gripped the civilian among them, instinctively, and gave her a “I don’t think he’s gonna fix it” look.
Thalev: Imminent?! What did you do?! ::beet:: You broke the ship. You broke the bloody ship!!
C. Matthews: Run!
Thalev: ::panicking:: That’s your expert tactical officer solution?! We just make a tactical retreat?
Lieutenant Matthews had given up his efforts to stop the console’s distinct and worrisome whirring. And Crewman Thalev had clearly given up her desire to live to old age.
Torado: Well who else would you trust to tactically run away from a problem?
C. Matthews / Croix: Response
Thalev: ::sarcastically:: Hold on. Did you try smacking it with the wrench to see what would happen sir?! Cause this is what happens!
Torado: Only in holonovels! It’s not a thing! “Percussive maintenance” means something completely different around here!
Those were, indeed, very different holonovels, and while Alene had her favorites they definitely weren’t the sort of thing you politely discussed in mixed company. They began to crowd around the console, looking for any contact that Matthews hadn’t already pressed in futility.
C. Matthews / Croix: Response
Thalev: Well maybe you should ask her for one! She’s got a Gucci bag full of them!
C. Matthews / Croix: Response
At that point, Alene had begun to back away from the console, deciding that she had little intention of getting a lecture about her concussion again.
Thalev: ::panicking:: Don’t look at me. I’m not the one breaking things. You’re the Tactical Officer! Take one and start tactically smacking it! Come on and Fonzy this thing already!
C. Matthews / Croix: Response
Thalev: ::beet:: Mrs Croix, you’re the tech consultant, right? Well can you consult this and fix it before it goes boom? Cause it’s still flashing red and an according to a field manual I read at the Academy years ago, imminent could mean as little as a minute!
“Imminent” did, indeed, meen as little as a minute. It meant even less than that, in fact, and the constant whirring of power within the console reached a crescendo. Alene was almost to the door when all the indicators in every shade of red and orange that the console was capable of displaying went to black, and a distinct, loud, popping noise filled her ears. Ka-CHUNK-a-CHUNK-a-CHUNK-a-CHUNK-a-CHUNK. Everything was quiet after that, and Alene looked back towards the crawlspace, where there was no longer any blue light. Whatever Matthews had done, he had blown the entire bank of fuses that Alene had just been working on. She winced, and rubbed the sore spot on her buttocks instinctively.
Torado: You know, Chas, next time, when the smart lady asks you to log into the console you can just do that and let her tell you what to do.
C. Matthews / Croix / Thalev: Response
The four of them gathered in the space between the console and the crawlspace. Alene crouched to look inside. It was dark, though not nearly as dark as the Holodeck had been when she’d been trapped there with Matthews and without power. Someone was going to have to go in, and Alene knew just what to do.
Torado: Not it.
C. Matthews / Croix / Thalev: Response
Tags/TBC
———
1st Lieutenant Alene Torado
Marine Officer
As simmed by
Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart
Executive Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
A240001NH3