Damage Controlled

Posted on Tue Oct 22nd, 2024 @ 5:13pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant Kaelen Voss

1,738 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: DS18 Deck 55

[ON]
DS18, Deck 55

Malcom stood in the mangled Main Shuttlebay that was supposed to be a hive of activity for DS18. Instead, the main landing area was torn, as if some great hand had reached through it, leaving a crater ten meters wide and descending two decks. There was a faint haze lingering in the air, a telltale sign that something somewhere was leaking. He'd been assured by the young engineer crewman that it was completely safe.

But as he assessed the situation, he couldn't help but think about what it had been like for the twelve Starfleet personnel who had died when the Coalition ship had crashed through the Shuttlebay doors, killing them. He glanced up where those doors should have been. The class five forcefield shimmered, sending ripples through the blue wall but held firm, keeping out the cold of space.

Kipp cleared his throat. "Captain, I believe that is Lieutenant Voss over there," the Yeoman said, pointing at an Engineer standing next to the wreckage of two Runabouts. They were so mangled that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Malcom strode over the man, Kipp trailing behind.

"Lieutenant Voss?" Malcom asked.

Lieutenant Kaelen Voss was lying flat on his back, half-submerged beneath the twisted wreckage of two mangled shuttles as he looked up at the piping right underneath the deck plating, some destroyed some intact. His uniform was smeared with grime, the yellow engineering trim dulled by soot and coolant residue. Tools were scattered around him—a plasma torch, a hydrospanner, and a cracked tricorder blinking intermittently.

The air was heavy with the faint haze of leaking gases—a mixture of inert coolant, carbonized insulation, and vaporized circuitry. The sickly-sweet odor burned at the back of his throat, and even though the engineer in him trusted the scans showing no immediate danger, experience told him otherwise. The unsettling chill at the back of his mind warned him that something was off.

A sharp hiss escaped from below the deck plating, right beneath the tangled mass of shattered debris. The sound was constant, rhythmic—a slow exhalation, like the base was bleeding.

Kaelen adjusted his grip on the hydrospanner, his knuckles still aching from the fight with Radek three days earlier. The bruises on his ribs throbbed every time he twisted his body, but he pushed the pain aside. This wasn’t the kind of job he could afford to half-ass. A gas leak beneath the plating meant trouble—and trouble always found a way to get worse if left unchecked.

He knew what he had to do to fix it but this would take some time. He began to scoot back the way he got in and emerged next to the damage nacelle of one of the shuttles. He lifted himself up and on to the deck. He began to sort through some of his other tools when just then, a pair of boots appeared at the edge of the wreckage. Kaelen turned to see a naval officer with the rank of Captain and a petty officer.

“Lieutenant Voss?” Malcom asked.

Kaelen gave a tired grin, wiping the sweat and grime from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Guilty as charged. How can I help you, sir?” Voss said as he continued to sort through the tools on the ground.

Malcom watched the engineer carefully sorting through his tools, appreciating how everything was being accounted for. "I'm Captain Llwyedd. I wanted to have a conversation with you about you about the ongoing repairs to DS18. We've got a lot of new ships coming in who were expecting to be able to transit to the Alpha Quadrant. Half of the docking slips weren't completed yet and a good portion of the other half are damaged. I'd like to prioritize them but I wanted to know how long you think repairs here will continue?" Malcom asked.

Kaelen straightened slightly, placing a coil spanner on the deck beside him before dusting off his hands. His mind churned through the logistics, weighing the reality of the situation against the expectations the captain had just laid out.

“Well, sir,” Voss began, gesturing toward the mangled shuttles and the twisted deck plating beneath the wreckage. “We’ve got several problems layered on top of each other here. There’s structural damage that spans two decks, compromised plasma conduits, and a couple of leaks I’m still trying to trace. The shuttlebay’s main systems are fried, and that’s going to require some creative rerouting until we get replacement parts.”

Voss crouched down and picked up his tricorder, thumbing it open and scrolling through the most recent scans. The tricorder’s cracked display flickered, but it was enough for him to make sense of the data.

“Realistically? We’re looking at about thirty hours just to stabilize the coolant systems and reinforce the deck. That’ll make it safe enough for teams to move freely through here.” He paused, tapping the screen thoughtfully. “Another twelve hours to finish clearing this wreckage—assuming no additional surprises. And maybe an additional eight to get systems up and working so little ships and come and go. But…” He gave a slight shrug, as if to say things rarely went according to plan. “The forcefield is holding. That’s buying us time.”

Voss considered that for a moment, his gaze lingering on the shimmering forcefield and the tangled mess of shuttles and debris around him. He shook his head, exhaling slowly. “Truth is, sir, we’re spread thin across the station. The entire engineering department is working.

He turned back to his scattered tools, picking up a cracked power cell and tossing it aside with a grimace. “I was the only one allocated here. I can get this all fixed up, but it’ll take some time.”

Malcom absorbed what the young officer had said and then shook his head. "No, that won't do. I appreciate all that you're dealing with but that timeline just isn't good enough for me. My job is to make sure everyone gets what they need to accomplish the task at hand," he said and then paused.

He turned and saw that Kipp was watching him with his well-perfected neutral gaze. He could see a faint glow filtering up from the levels that had been exposed by the crashing ship. Malcom had actually gone and watched the sensor scans of that and it had chilled him. The trajectory showed that the ship had purposefully changed course and then accelerated as it approached the shuttlebay. They had known exactly what they were doing when they slammed into DS18. He might not know what their motives were or why they had done what they'd done, but he did know what they were willing to do. Anything.

"Lieutenant Voss, you're the most skilled engineer in the field of damage control, which makes you and your time the most valuable. I'm going to send five people, including my best systems engineer and an ensign who is an expert with plasma conduits and power systems in general. You'll be in charge of the work party and report to me directly if you need anything. When you're finished, I want you to stand down for at least six hours and then come and see me on the Firebird<," he said.

Voss processed the captain’s words and then allowed himself a small, tired smile. Help was a rare luxury. He couldn’t say no to that—not if it meant shaving hours off the job and maybe, just maybe, getting this place back in working order before everything else went sideways.

“Appreciate that, sir,” Voss said as he crouched briefly to scoop up the cracked tricorder and shoved it into a side pocket of his utility belt. “Having a systems engineer and someone else with plasma conduit expertise will go a long way.”

He glanced back at the mangled wreckage of the two shuttles and the glowing deck below, which continued to emit that unsettling hiss.

“Guess they wanted to make sure we were kept busy,” Voss muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else. Then, louder, he added, “The extra hands will help stabilize things faster. I’ll get them briefed and put them to work as soon as they arrive. I would just ask you spare a medic or two and base them right over there in case anyone gets hurt in here" Voss pointed to the damaged but still usable shuttle control station.

"Good idea. I'll get one of our nurses to set up a first aid station there," Malcom said. He turned and walked toward Kipp and then stopped. He pivoted to Lieutenant Voss.

"They wanted to make sure that we couldn't run. They sealed the wormhole. I think they intended to wipe us out. Luckily that didn't happen. Keep up the good work, Lieutenant Voss."

Malcom resumed his walk and Kipp fell in beside him, already discussing the Captain's next meeting as they walked out of the shuttlebay.

As Malcom and Kipp disappeared through the exit, the faint hiss of leaking gases and the hum of malfunctioning systems reclaimed the stillness of the shuttlebay. Kaelen Voss exhaled sharply. The captain’s words lingered in his mind. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it now. Too many things were broken.

Voss rolled his shoulders, ignoring the dull ache in his ribs, and bent down to collect his tools. Help was on the way—a systems engineer and a plasma conduit expert were exactly what he needed to move things along.

His commbadge chirped, and a familiar voice crackled through.

“Systems team on the way, sir. ETA seven minutes.”

Voss tapped his badge in response. “Acknowledged. Meet me by the collapsed shuttles when you arrive. We’ve got things to do here.”

He knelt by the damaged nacelle of one of the shattered shuttle, resting his hands briefly on the jagged metal. He could feel the faint vibrations running through the wreck, a reminder of the station’s still-active systems fighting to stay online.

[OFF]
Captain Malcom Llwyedd
Commanding Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Lieutenant Kaelen Voss
Damage Control Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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