Pressure Point

Posted on Mon Oct 28th, 2024 @ 4:13am by Lieutenant Kaelen Voss

1,936 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: DS18 – Shuttleba

[ON]

DS18 – Shuttlebay Control Room

Lieutenant Kaelen Voss stood at the center of the shuttlebay control room, hands on his hips, staring down at the console’s flickering displays. Around him, a team of engineers fell in, a team Captain Llwyedd promised he would get him, to get the shattered shuttle bay back into working order. He made a mental note to thank him later for the assist. The shuttlebay was a mess—plasma relays offline, coolant leaking into the vents, power conduits fried, and structural braces compromised. This was no ordinary repair job.

The station’s shuttle bay was a place of constant incoming and outgoing traffic, and without it, DS18 was almost at a stand still. No transport vessels, no cargo ships, no emergency evacuations if something went wrong. And something always went wrong.

Voss leaned over the primary console, running a hand through his short, sweat-dampened hair. His ribs still throbbed, but he pushed the discomfort aside. “All right,” he called to the crew around him. “Let’s get this show on the road. Reyes, you’re on the plasma relays. Marlow, I want you monitoring the power grid—those conduits are twitchy, and if they spike again, we’ll be picking ourselves off the bulkheads.”

Chief Systems Engineer Arden Reyes, a wiry man with perpetually furrowed brows, shot Voss a look. “Twitchy doesn’t even cover it, Lieutenant. We’re holding these systems together with spit and plasma sealant.”

“Then spit harder,” Voss shot back with a grin.

The engineers chuckled, and for a brief moment, the tension in the room eased. But it was only a moment. Voss knew what was at stake. If the shuttlebay wasn’t fully operational soon, DS18 would be in serious trouble.

Voss toggled the console display, switching between the various systems that needed attention. Cooling systems were still offline, the forcefield generators at half-capacity, and several critical power conduits were dangerously unstable. He tapped his commbadge.

“Voss to all shuttle bay engineering staff, I need everyone to submit full status reports every fifteen minutes to control. Voss out. Reyes, how’s that plasma relay coming?”

Reyes’s voice crackled back over the comm. “We’ve got two relays re-aligned, but the third one’s fried. We’ll need to reroute through the auxiliary systems.”

“Do it,” Voss replied. “We need those relays operational, even if it’s just temporary.”

He turned toward Marlow, the plasma conduit specialist, who stood at a side console, furiously typing away. “How are we looking on the power grid?”

Marlow shook her head, frustration evident in her eyes. “It’s not good, Lieutenant. Power levels are fluctuating across multiple nodes. If one of these conduits blows, it could trigger a cascade failure.”

“Then don’t let it blow,” Voss said calmly. He patted her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

As the engineers worked, the shuttlebay slowly began to stabilize. Systems flickered back to life—first some of the lighting, then the forcefield projectors, one by one. The hum of the station’s power grid grew steadier, a sound Voss found oddly comforting. Things were finally starting to come together.

Then the alarm sounded. A high-pitched, insistent wail that made everyone in the control room freeze.

Voss’s eyes snapped to the console, where a red warning indicator flashed. He swore under his breath.

“What now?” Reyes muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.

Marlow leaned over the display. “We’ve got a critical failure in the coolant system. Pressure’s building in the main conduits—if it blows, it’ll flood the shuttlebay with toxic vapor.”

Voss cursed again. “Can we vent the pressure?”

Marlow’s fingers danced over the controls. “Negative, sir. The override isn’t responding.”

Voss didn’t hesitate. “All right. I’m going in.”

Reyes spun toward him, disbelief on his face. “You’re what?”

“I’ve got to release the pressure manually before the whole system blows.”

“Lieutenant, that’s suicide!” Marlow protested. “If the pressure’s that high—”

“It’s not up for debate,” Voss cut her off. “Keep working on the relays and keep those power spikes under control. I’ll handle the coolant system.”

He grabbed his toolkit from under the console and slung it over his shoulder. His hands moved on instinct, checking tools and oxygen seals with practiced ease.

“Reyes, you’ve got the control room until I’m back. Keep things together.”

Reyes hesitated for only a moment, then nodded. “You better come back in one piece, Voss.”

Voss grinned. “What’s the fun in that?”

Voss raced out of the control room, out the shuttle bay, and down the corridor toward the shuttlebay’s lower access hatch, his heart pounding in time with the alarm still wailing overhead. The metal grating under his boots vibrated with the station’s tension, as if the entire structure was holding its breath.

He reached the access panel, pried it open with, and slid into the cramped maintenance shaft that led below the shuttlebay. It was the only part below the bay that was still in tact. But, to be fair, crews were already working on rebuilding the giant crater.

The air was thick with the scent of burnt coolant and ozone. The red emergency lights cast flickering shadows along the narrow tunnel, making it hard to see clearly.

He crawled forward, his ribs aching with every movement, until he reached the primary coolant junction.

There it was—the pressure valve. Its indicator light blinked an angry red, warning him that the system was moments from failing.

“Come on, come on,” Voss muttered, pulling out his tools and setting to work. His fingers flew over the manual controls, releasing the safety lock on the valve. The pressure gauge trembled at the edge of the red zone.

The coolant pipe groaned ominously, a reminder that time was running out. Sweat trickled down Voss’s temple, and he could feel the heat from the overworked conduits seeping through his gloves.

“Almost there…” he whispered to himself.

As Kaelen twisted the valve, it stopped and refused to budge. The metal groaned under the strain, but the safety release was jammed, likely from the earlier damage. The gauge crept dangerously close to the red zone, and Voss could feel the heat intensifying around him. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the throbbing in his ribs, and yanked a hydrospanner from his toolkit.

“You’re not blowing on my watch,” he muttered, bracing the tool against the valve with both hands and forcing it to turn. His muscles strained as he threw his weight into it.

The valve squealed under the pressure, then—with a sudden metallic snap—it released. A loud hiss filled the maintenance shaft as coolant vapor vented through auxiliary exhaust lines. The pressure gauge dropped rapidly, the angry red warning light fading into a calmer amber.

Voss exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. But the relief was short-lived.

His commbadge chirped to life. “Voss, we’ve got another problem,” Reyes’s voice crackled through the comm. “The secondary exhaust path isn’t engaging. If the buildup continues, we’re back to square one in under three minutes.”

Voss swore under his breath. There wasn’t enough time to crawl back to the control room. He scanned the area, searching for an access panel that would allow him to reroute the exhaust paths manually.

And there it was—a small junction box wedged behind a tangle of pipes. It was in bad shape, scorch marks across the casing, coolant leaking onto the panel. Voss grimaced.

“Reyes, listen up,” Voss said, yanking open the junction box. “I need you to send me the reroute sequence for the auxiliary path—now.”

“Copy that, Lieutenant.” Reyes’s voice was tense but steady. “Sending it over.”

A moment later, Voss’s tricorder blinked to life with the data. He worked fast, punching in the override codes manually as coolant dripped onto his hands, making the console slick and harder to manage. His fingers moved with precision, years of training and experience kicking in, even as the heat around him grew more intense.

The system groaned again, another warning indicator blaring in his ear. The station’s infrastructure was fighting him at every turn.

“Come on, you stubborn piece of—” Voss growled, forcing the connection into place. The panel sparked, nearly jolting his hands off the controls, but the sequence locked in just in time.

With a final hiss, the secondary exhaust route engaged. Coolant vapor rushed through the new pathways, the pressure stabilizing just before it reached the critical mark. The blaring alarms silenced one by one, leaving only the hum of the system slowly returning to normal.

Voss leaned against the wall of the shaft, breathing hard. The heat began to dissipate, and the red warning lights dimmed to green across the panel.

“Voss to Reyes,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The coolant system’s stable. How are we looking up there?”

“Green across the board, Lieutenant,” Reyes replied, relief evident in his tone. “We’ve got the relays online, and the forcefields are holding steady.”

Voss allowed himself a small grin. “Good work, team. I’ll be back topside in five.”

He closed the junction box and wiped his hands on his uniform, now streaked with grime and coolant. Every muscle in his body ached, but he had no time to dwell on it. The job wasn’t finished yet.

He crawled back through the narrow shaft and climbed out of the access hatch, the weight of his toolkit feeling heavier than before.

He entered the shuttle bay as the wreckage of the two shuttles were being dismantled manually by three engineers with their hand held tools and placed them into large containers. Lights, computers, and equipment started to spin back to life. It was far from perfect, but it was functional.

Voss entered the control room to find his team waiting for him, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and pride. Reyes stood at the main console, monitoring the systems as the rest of the engineers double-checked connections and sealed off the last of the damaged conduits.

“You look like hell, Lieutenant,” Marlow said, grinning as she handed him a bottle of water.

“Feel like it, too,” Voss replied with a smirk, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink. The cool water soothed his parched throat.

Reyes tapped the console, pulling up the updated diagnostic. “Systems are stable across the board. Forcefields are fully operational, and we’re almost ready to start receiving ships again. We are just clearing up the wreckage and will replace most of the floor panels. Everything else is happening below the deck.

“How much longer before the shuttle bay is fully operational?”

Reyes tweaked his hand left to right mentally calculating. “Wreckage, floor panels, some additional writing, I would say 6-8 hours?”

Voss gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Listen everyone, you’ve done a great job but let’s keep it up and keep that time frame, 8 hours. In 8 hours, we need to see ships land. Can we do it?”

The entire room let out a “yes sir!” in unison as if commanded by a drill sergeant.

He looked around at his team—Marlow, Reyes, and the other engineers—and gave them an approving nod. “Let’s do it.” He said with a smile. The room began to spit up and finish the job.

[OFF]

Lieutenant Kaelen Voss
Damage Control Specialist
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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