Ensign Delphina Wren- Putting Out Fires
Grace McDermott
((USS Ronin, Delphina Wren’s quarters))
Delphina had no idea what time it was. She’d been rooted to the spot at her desk for hours now, alternating between soldering and coding, trying to get this encoded chip to work, and it was getting to the point where she was tired enough that she’d managed to burn the table at least twice. Sitting back, she lifted the protective goggles, rubbing at the bridge of her nose, before picking up the chip and rolling over to the engineering bag full of wires that was piled on the makeshift table she’d made by putting a slab of sheet metal on top of an unused bed.
She heard a mechanized whirring behind her, and she glanced up to see the fully robotic beetle she’d built back at the academy had followed her, pincers open and grasping eagerly.
Wren: ::as though speaking to a beloved pet:: I still need this tool. You can have it in a minute, Remy.
Remy answered in a series of clicks and beeps that Delphina had yet to fully translate, but he waited nonetheless as she finished adding the final piece, before propping the bag upright. It was an absolute mess, but if there was one thing Delphina had learned over the years, it was that aesthetics came second with a working prototype. Too many of her classmates had forgotten that you had to get the thing to work first, then you could make it look sleek and gorgeous. She slipped an extra comm badge out of her pocket, pressing it into the bag’s slot, before stepping back, fighting back a yawn.
Wren: Computer, open personal log. Roaming Transporter, category Bag of Holding. Test thirty-eight.
The computer set up a containment field around the bag, and she tiredly pressed the activation button. So complete was her exhaustion that she barely even blinked as it burst into flames. Thank the four she’d disengaged the fire alarms in her quarters.
Wren: Test thirty-eight results, .3 seconds of stability before transporter collapse ::rolling her eyes:: An improvement over thirty-seven. Scan-
She blinked as her comm-badge beeped, and she finally took an opportunity to glance at her watch. oO 0400 hours? Who is calling me now?? Oo. Wordlessly, she handed her soldering tool to a delighted Remy, tapping her comm.
Tucker: Ensign Wren, good morning, and I hope I didn’t wake you.
Wren: ::staring at the slowly dissipating fire in the containment field:: Nope, we- you’re good, sir. What do you need?
Tucker: Let's debrief at the Brew Continuum. Say, in half an hour?
Caffeine. Yes, that was what she needed. She rubbed her eyes again, giving herself a full-body shake, oO Come on, this isn’t your first all-nighter… Oh the fire’s out! Oo
Wren: Of course, we’ll be along in a few ::scraping the ash into the recycler::
Tucker: Good to hear, see you then.
Delphina sighed, picking up Remy and putting him back into his enclosure, checked the locks, and pulled on the jacket of her uniform. She could get back to her project after shore leave, if she remembered. And, of course, assuming that the music box she was planning on buying wasn’t actually cursed.
((Deck 14, Brew Continuum, USS Ronin))
Delphina stood in front of the computer, tapping away at the multiple warnings that had popped up when she put in her order. Yes she was aware of what Zariphean blend was. No, she did not have a heart condition. No, she was not Zariphean. Yes, she was sure she wanted to do this. All pretty par for the course. After what felt like ages, the cup finally materialized, and she took a sip, immediately feeling as though she’d stuck her finger into an electric socket. Shivering a little, she scanned the area for Tucker, until her eyes found him at a table.
Tucker: I thought of a different place other than my office. Plus, we won’t be bothered here, and I've got Lieutenant Morgan taking care of things at the moment.
Wren: Sounds good! To be honest, I needed to get out of my quarters, I’ve been putting out fires all night ::taking another sip of tea::
Tucker: Okay, ensign, I figured we’d debrief and get your thoughts on the mission and how we can improve response times, etcetera.
Delphina paused, tapping the outside of her mug with a frown. She had a lot of thoughts about the mission, some of which were unhelpful, and many of which were stored inside her personal PADD, which dangled off her shoulder in its bag. She’d been doing what she could to extrapolate what she could about the data she’d gathered and copied, but there were some parts she was still having difficulty with.
Wren: ::unsure:: I feel the mission went well, overall. A lot of emotional ups and downs. I’ve put in an order to have our probes replaced, and I was wondering if it would be possible for me to experiment on one of them? I’ve been working on a way to create more comprehensive scans using less bulky equipment, and I’d like to use one of the probes as a control group.
Tucker: Response
Delphina nodded, taking another sip of tea. The Hive wasn’t ready yet, not by a longshot, but getting her hands on a probe would be helpful in the long run. She pondered the second part of what Tucker had said for a moment, before deciding it was probably for the best if she just asked.
Wren: We…. at the academy we discussed Sencha radiation when it was first discovered, and after what happened with the Lattice Alliance. ::remembering what she experienced in the shuttle:: I know one of Niac’s previous hosts discovered it, but… do you know much about what causes it?
Tucker: Response
Delphina nodded, storing that away for right now. She was trying very hard not to overstep, but if she could get a little more information about what they were dealing with…. oO Don’t push things, you just got here. Oo
Wren: ::clearly trying to move away from the topic:: As for the mission itself, I feel everyone did their jobs quite well. Although some work definitely needs to be done in regards to our communicators. There was a point when I was on an away team where we lost comms for a good long time because of the radiation.
Tucker: Response
((Tags/TBC))