The Dregs

Posted on Wed Mar 20th, 2024 @ 4:24pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Petty Officer 1st Class Baris Demir & Petty Officer 2nd Class Thomas Lopt & Petty Officer 2nd Class Fhiri

1,162 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Mission 1: A Long Hard Road Ahead
Location: USS Firebird
Timeline: 23 August, 2396- 2100 Hours

[ON]

Fhiri threw down her tools, taking pleasure in the loud metallic clanging sound. Thomas, standing only a few meters away, jumped high enough that he could have almost cleared one of the engineering stations.

"That's it!" Fhiri yelled. "I can't work under these conditions!"

Thomas, his heart still racing, glanced around Main Engineering, which was quiet, the correct temperature and nothing was in danger of exploding. At least not yet.

"What conditions are you talking about, Fhiri?" Thomas asked. "Everything looks good to me. Well, except that cloaking device. It would be nice if..."

Fhiri, long used to Thomas's ability to ramble, broke in. "It has nothing to do with the," she gestured around at the entirety of Main Engineering, flailing her arms around rapidly. When she'd finished, she bent over and picked up the microanalyzer tool. It was supposed to measure stress and weaknesses on different electronic parts.

"It's these tools! They are substandard and they do not meet Starfleet requirements! I'm going to go up and talk with the Quartermaster. He's the one who is supposed to make sure that our equipment actually works!" Fhiri said. She hunched her shoulders and began stomping towards the exit.

Thomas had a vision of an enraged Fhiri storming into the Quartermaster's office. He couldn't imagine a worse combination than Fhiri's borderline rage/ disrespect and Petty Officer First Class Demir's brutal bluntness.

"I'll go with you!" Thomas said and hurried to catch up.

---

Barking an ensign out of his way, Baris bent to double-check the contents of two storage crates. He trusted the ensign, of course; trust and incompetency could co-exist. Grunting his bare approval, Baris watched the ensign lock the containers.

"Put those in locker Delta-17, then sign it into storage on the PADD," he said. Between the wormhole, an unfinished star base, and military engagements people were coming to him with completely outlandish claims.

Fhiri burst into the Quartermaster's bay, still angry despite the walk from Maine Engineering. Her head rotated as she took in the chaotic scene unfolding before her and then stomped up to Demir. She thrust the microanalyzer in the Quartermaster's face.

"This is unacceptable!"

Thomas did not follow Fhiri into battle. He slid to his left as he entered the bay and stood partially behind a large crate of something. He kept Fhiri in view in case he had to do.... something?

Baris kept scrolling through bills of lading on the PADD. "Oh good. Another complaint. We're stuck between a collapsed wormhole and a hostile enemy but please, tell me your complaint," he said.

Thomas was sure that if plasma could have shot out of Fhiri's lobes, they would have. Her eyes were nearly popping out of her skull.

"It might seem trivial to you almighty Quartermaster, but while you are shuffling your crates around and signing manifests, I am trying to make sure the ship doesn't EXPLODE!" Fhiri yelled, waving the microanalyzer. "Which it WILL if I don't get tools that work properly!"

Thomas held up a finger. "Please."

"Everyone is either saving a ship or hunting aliens. I get the requests, I send out the equipment." Baris pointed to a requisitions entry on the PADD. "Maybe Harlan didn't agree with your assessment of your job duties, or you didn't describe your needs well enough to him. Maybe if you had then you'd have better equipment."

"Maybe you need better eyes you frinx for brains!" Fhiri yelled.

Thomas, in a move quite outside the ordinary for him, pushed his way in between the two combatants. He was taller than both of them, which helped a little but he was also shaking with fear.

"Ok, ok," he said. "No need to make things worse, right? Ha ha," he said and then gulped. His eyes lingered on the PADD that the Quartermaster was holding. Then he smiled. A confident smile. "Perhaps there is another solution! Do the two of you see any issue with the PADD Petty Officer Demir is holding?"

Thomas's words were almost cheerful and they cut through the red fog. The PADD? She shuffled forward and snatched it from the Quartermaster.

"When was the last time you updated your systems?" She asked. "I know that Lieutenant Woodhouse has been busy."

"What do you mean?" Baris grabbed the PADD back from Fhiri. He scanned the screen and subsystem menus, glancing up now and then at one or the other of them from under furrowed brows. "My equipment lists are all up-to-date. Everything double-checked against my own program." He paused to glare at each of them, then huffed a great puff of air from his chest. "What systems update?"

"The one that Lieutenant Woodhouse sent out two months ago," Fhiri said and then frowned. "But there was a power fluctuation in the port inhibitors. And they manage the power flow at the data access nodes. That one manages your power."

Fhiri groaned and rubbed her lobes. "And if I recall correctly, Chief Harlan was swearing about the replication order he'd placed with you for..." she trailed off, holding up the microanalyzer.

"So this is... Lieutenant Woodhouse's fault?" Thomas said in a hopeful voice.

Baris stroked his chin. He hated giving out new equipment to people he felt wouldn't appreciate it. Complications with orders rankled him more. They gummed up the unseen process that kept a starship humming.

"Obviously. Some people can't follow through on their work." Baris seized on the chance to get to complete this order. He found the appropriate crate and removed a new microanalyzer. Grimacing, he held it out to Fhiri. "This model is based on scans released just 47 days ago. If you lose it, damage it, or break it then you're holding the replacement. Your only replacement."

Fhiri took the offered tool. "It's a deal. As long as we aren't getting the dregs of supplies, you'll have no problem with me."

Thomas nudged Fhiri. "And?"

"And what?" Fhiri asked, her face full of confusion.
Thomas turned away from the Quartermaster and then said, in his smallest, quietest voice. "Thank you." He knew Fhiri would hear him.

The Ferengi's face scrunched up as if she had smelled something rotten. "Thank you," she said.

Baris swallowed the words he was about to say about dregs and ability. He nodded and replied, "You're welcome. Now go fix the calibrators or whatever you were doing. I've got a system to update and we've got a ship to keep running."

[OFF]

Petty Officer 1st Class Baris Demir (NPC by Leed)
Quartermaster
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Petty Officer 2nd Class Fhiri (NPC by Llwyedd)
Computer Systems Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Petty Officer 2nd Class Thomas Lopt (NPC by Llwyedd)
Communications Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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