MSNPC LtCmdr. T'Dara: Duty-rium.
Randal Shayne
((Deck 12, Main Engineering, USS Khitomer)) Dewitt: It’s not my place to judge your circumstances, Commander. I am here to make sure this ship is safe and functions properly. If what you tell me is true, the SCE’s command structure is in worse shape than I thought. It confirms my initial thoughts about my reaction towards a next SCE driven project.
T’Dara glanced down at her fist, clenched so tight it had taken on a greenish-white hue in the shadows she’d concealed it within. It was no longer a matter of control, of desperately searching for those techniques and trainings that had kept her part of the societally refused bloodlust at bay. Now it was a matter of deciding whether she ought to pursue such a piddling concern as that in the face of all that gnawed at them.
T’Dara: SCE remains in good hands. These were not their instructions.
Dewitt: So who made the decisions then? Who forced you to adapt the scope of your project so many times? Who made the choice to test everything in a stellar nursery? Who is responsible then?
It was like trying to thread a recalcitrant needle. The thread of T’Dara’s thought was wetted with intention, focused into a delicate motion, and sent thrusting towards the tiny gap, the small opening in the synapses where the answers to Dewitt’s questions lay. The thread wilted, darting off into another direction. A more common direction. Obsession, the need to be flawless in this task most especially. She retipped the thread, angling it to its sharpest point, and drove it toward the needle as if she were to stake a vampire’s heart. Again she watched as it was deflected, angled towards drive, blind commitment, stolen moments of peace. She watched her train of thought drive into all-too-well known territory, but in a moment of selfish awareness, she spun on her thought, twisting her focus away from where it was going, and back towards where it had originated.
Black-hued eyes met her.
And in the unshielded instant of blinding, pure panic that stopped her heart for three seconds, T’Dara knew nothing would be the same anymore.
T’Dara: I don’t know…
The pause was lengthy, and unwelcome. She needed to think of anything else, anyone else, anything at all but the vast gaping hole where an answer ought to be in her mind.
And though she might look away, she knew.
She knew the eyes continued to stare.
Dewitt: Well, I’m glad you were onboard during this incident, Commander. We don’t know what would have happened without your expertise.
The compliment was gracious, but all she could think about in the moment was how alone she was, here aboard this ship of strangers, in the middle of the vast void. But it wouldn’t matter if she stood at the center of the universe, circled on all sides by life and living; the danger was within her, not from without.
T’Dara: Appreciated, Commander. But much may yet happen.
Semara: =/\= Semara to Engineerin'. =/\=
A chipper, rustic voice seemed to coo pleasantly from the otherwise dispassionate speaker systems invisibly embedded around the engineering compartment. T’Dara let Dewitt respond.
Dewitt: Response
Semara: =/\= Hey, Commander. I could use some help here. Ensign Graves' got a plan to get us outta here. Should see some numbers now. =/\=
The screens near them blinked to new purpose, and a stream of infographics, numerals and warp diagrams bloomed all around them. T’Dara moved closer to one, and squinted in an almost un-Vulcan fashion. Even for her, the initial appraisal was a baffling exercise, largely because she had little idea of what kept them stuck in the first place.
T’Dara: =/\= It is difficult to answer when one does not know the question.
Dewitt: Response
Working backwards to the beginning, T’Dara began to grasp at the principles in play, but it was no simple task, no matter how it was cut.
Semara: =/\= :: A slow exhale. :: I know, I know. It's finicky. It's hard on the engines. Maybe it's a little insane. But I ain't got anythin' better, and I'm pretty sure the cap'n ain't got the patience to think on it more. =/\=
T’Dara gave an inaudible grumble. Long-suffering engineers had been operating under the impatient heel of commanding officers for centuries- indeed, Starfleet seemed to think of it as a treasured tradition. But with circumstances such as these, it felt like one more disaster to be courted.
Dewitt: Response
T’Dara slightly nodded, agreeing with the man’s words. There would be no more time for argumentation. Everyone would have to be in unified cause if this were to work.
Semara: =/\= If you got anyone to spare to keep an eye on things from up here, we could use it. =/\=
T’Dara flashed her eyes towards Dewitt, quietly asking his permission. It was logical, though she knew there were likely considerations she could not see swirling in the chief’s mind. So it was with her and her team.
Dewitt: Response
Semara: =/\= Sure. And thanks. I owe ya one after all this. Let me know if there's anythin' you need. Semara out... =/\=
T’Dara waited until the channel was absolutely certainly closed before replying to no one.
T’Dara: Yes. A less dangerous plan.
She turned her attention to Dewitt again.
Dewitt: Response
T’Dara: If we are to do this, once the modifications in engineering are done- a list that seems extensive- we’ll require total cooperation between engineering and the bridge. If you choose another officer, I understand.
She would- she tried to avoid lying- but she would be lying if she denied the oncoming rush of excitement at the prospect of stepping onto a bridge again, and actually belonging there. How long it had been.
T’Dara: In any case, a cursory examination of this plan reveals a need to de-enrich a supply of deuterium. I suggest we separate and dilute a sufficient batch via fractional distillation.
Dewitt: Response
Tag/TBC…
MSNPC Lieutenant Commander T’Dara
Starfleet Corps of Engineers Observer
As simmed by
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0