Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

Referring again to his checklist, although he had it well-memorized, he verified the next sections to be inspected. He acknowledged the report and sent instructions to the team to continue to their next location. A moment later, he received their confirmation. Although he might never show it overtly, he was pleased that proper procedures were being followed and, aside from the crisis in Engineering, everything else on board the ship seemed to be in order.

#

Rusty was checking the integrity of a coupling along one of the ruptured conduits when he heard Wayne’s shout. Actually, he had paused a moment before, as if expecting it. He handed the insulated wrench to Aruna, the dark-skinned engineering technician who was assisting him. Motioning toward the conduit, he indicated for her to continue checking the system while he checked on whatever it was that had Wayne all fired up.

Walking past the main slipstream drive core, he frowned, shaking his head slightly as he once again saw the charred damage. It bothered him more than just a little. Beyond the fact that the drive had unexpectedly, and so far inexplicably failed, he had not seen it before it had happened. He knew the drive systems of this ship better than almost anyone else in the fleet; he could not reconcile that he could have been so distracted by all of the fuss and activity around him that he would have missed even the most subtle warning signs of potential trouble.

He let none of his personal uncertainty show, however, as he approached. Giving the fidgeting ensign amused grin, he glanced down toward the open panel.

“What'd you find, Wayne?”

Wayne’s hands opened, the palms streaked by dark smears, revealing a blackened component.

“Looks pretty friend, Chief,” Niguchi offered.

Rusty nodded, taking the badly scorched component from Wayne’s outstretched hands and studying it.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

#

Hawkes surreptitiously watched as Devereux assisted the young technician. Her name, Hawkes had determined, was Ensign Renee Ashton. He had verified her identity the moment she had entered the bridge. Although the guard stationed outside had transmitted her credentials before allowing her to enter, Hawkes considered it well within his duties—particularly considering the increased security arrangements—to ensure that they did indeed match.

He kept his disapproval masked. It seemed apparent that the ensign did not possess the necessary skills required for the task that she had been assigned. That she had been dispatched there, though, came as no particular surprise to Hawkes. As far as he had been able to determine, the Chief Engineer often seemed to select his crew assignments using little other criteria than which of them happened within shouting range when they were needed. If such was truly the Chief Engineer’s approach (and Hawkes had little evidence to convince him that it was not) then it was hardly the ensign’s fault that she seemed unable to complete—or even begin—the requested repairs without assistance.

From what he could see, though, the captain did not appear to share his dissatisfaction over the incident. She smiled, even seeming to enjoy her interaction with Ashton. The captain appeared to be performing a majority of the work. At least, Hawkes noted, she seemed to be using the occasion to also educate the ensign on the task at the same time.

An alert indicator on his console chimed for his attention. He glanced down, seeing that the inspection of the main and auxiliary airlocks had been completed, as well as the hatches that led to the twin cargo bays in the aft of the ship. There had been evidence of either damage or tampering. Hawkes had suspected that such would be the report, but regulations required such an examination and now it had been completed.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

Although eager to get back to the action on the main Engineering deck, Elizabeth paused, showing a sudden interest in the status displays on a nearby bulkhead. In truth, they showed nothing of any particular interest, unless one cared about the internal temperature and humidity in this section of the Engineering deck, but Elizabeth wanted to make certain that the two young engineers could get the access panel back into place without her assistance.

They managed to get it properly aligned on their second try. Hearing the first of the fasteners snap accurately into place, Elizabeth headed for the ramp that would take her back down to the main level. Before she had gone more than halfway, she could already hear the Chief’s distinctive baritone as he issued orders to the available engineers and technicians. He was not shouting really, and Elizabeth could not recall ever hearing him actually yell at anyone, but his voice seemed pitched to carry exactly as it needed in order to be heard above the surrounding din of equipment and agitated voices.

As she stepped off the ramp onto the main Engineering deck, she realized that she had left the equipment case with Beacon and Yoshi. While hardly catastrophic, it was annoying as she would need to gather a new one before starting on whatever the Chief had in mind for her next. She tried to guess what it might be, for there was certainly no shortage of systems to be repaired or tested at the moment.

Her attention was suddenly drawn by a high-pitched shout coming from somewhere near the main slipstream drive system. She tried to look past the collection of weaving heads and spied a technician waving energetically toward the Chief. Elizabeth found herself surprised to see that the technician was male, given the octave at which she thought she had heard him call out. When she spied the dark, close-cut and curly hair, she allowed herself a small smile as she recognized the crew member: Ensign Alex Wayne.

Rumor had it that Alex stood for “Alexandria”, but no one knew with absolute certainty if that was true. At the moment, Wayne was one the very fortunate few lower-ranking crew members to not have to share quarters, so there was not even a roommate that someone could ask. Purportedly, anyone who asked directly had been given the bemused, but firm, answer: “Alex”. Whatever the truth, Elizabeth found it of interest only because of the light mystery surrounding the matter. With a society of genetic constructs, and the occasional alien, the boundaries of what was considered “normal” were beginning to blur considerably.

Wayne straightened and started waving again.

“Chief!” he shouted. “I think we found something!”

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

#

Elizabeth worked quickly, but methodically, repairing or replacing the damaged conduits. As she worked, she as often talked to herself as she did to the two junior engineers assisting her, pausing occasionally to ask their advice (although she usually already knew the answer) or to request assistance (that she did not really need). She knew that she could have finished in about half time, working alone, but felt that it was important that they feel necessary to the task at hand, particularly considered their earlier embarrassing inability to even open the hatch.

After having Hoshi run one final check, Elizabeth snapped the final piece back into place and examined their work. She nodded at Beacon with a faint smile, seeming pleased. Reaching down, she pulled out her communications unit.

“Okay, it looks like we’re done here. Go ahead and restore power to this section.”

The voice of one of the engineering technicians sounded from the speaker; Elizabeth could not quite place who it was. “Twenty-four Baker?”

“Yeah. All lines.”

The trio waited for a moment and then the lights in the previously damaged section were restored to normal brightness. Elizabeth checked the readings on the monitoring device she still held, nodding and almost grinning as they all now showed the proper status. She spoke into the communications unit again.

“Chief,” she said. “We're all set here. The fluctuation should be fixed now.”

There was a brief pause before Rusty answered. “Looks good from here.” A faint crackling noise came from the small speaker. “Good work, Lizzie,” Rusty’s voice continued. “Now get back down here so I can find something more challenging for you.”

Elizabeth chuckled, feeling mildly embarrassed at the remark being overheard by the junior engineers. They seemed not to notice, though.

“Go ahead,” Beacon said, giving her a bright, almost relieved smile. “We’ll finish cleaning up here.” She glanced at Hoshi who, after glancing quickly at Elizabeth, nodded his agreement with the officer.

“On my way, Chief,” Elizabeth said into the communications unit before shutting it off and clipping it back at her waist.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

Hope approached the pair and stopped.

The kneeling crewman looked at Hope and rose, backing away. Hope then crouched down in turn, placed her medical case flat on the deck, and began to examine the injured crew member. Taking the female’s hand in her own, she studied it for a moment. She then closed her eyes and began slowly to run her fingertips along the back of the crew member’s hand.

In her mind, Hope could sense the female watching her. She dismissed the mental image and focused on assessing the female’s injuries. Her fingertips barely brushed the surface of the female’s skin, making just enough contact that she could detect the subtle variations in its density, temperature, and other properties. She heard the female draw a sharp breath as Hope’s fingers passed over one of the key sites of injury. Hope paused only a moment, immersing herself in a deeper study of the site, before continuing onward, up the female’s arm.

Hope’s fingers traveled to the crew member’s shoulder, and nearly to her neck, before she stopped. Pulling her hand away, Hope remained silent a moment before opening her eyes and staring into the female’s face.

“First- and second-degree burns,” she reported flatly. “Dislocated shoulder. Minor contusions.” She paused, studying the female more intently. “There is pain?”

The female crew member exchanged a quick glance with her male companion before nodding wordlessly.

Hope placed her hand back on the female’s shoulder. She pressed lightly, noting that the female grimaced, but made no sound. Hope found that satisfying. Closing her eyes once more, Hope increased the pressure of her hand slightly and then paused, waiting.

Beneath her fingers, she could feel the female’s muscles tense. The pulse underneath quickened and then began to slow to its normal rhythm. Hope could hear the female’s breathing resume its regular pace as well. Slowly, Hope lifted her hand and opened her eyes.

The female crew member stared back at her, much of the strain now gone from her expression. She swallowed unsteadily.

Hope released her hold completely and reached for the medical case. She withdrew an injector and then pulled out an ampoule, snapping it into place. Looking back at the crew member, she stared fully into the female’s eyes.

“Remain still.”

The crew member nodded in response, her head barely moving.

Hope activated the injector at several locations along the crew member’s arm. When she was done, she paused, watching the female's expression before replacing the injector in the case.

Next, she removed a small piece of shiny fabric. She quickly unfolded it, and then parted the ends so that it formed a long, narrow tube. Hope slid it over the crew member's arm, stopping to place it so that it covered the location of the other injury. Taking a small device from the case, she pressed it lightly against the surface of the fabric. Within moments, it shrank to form a snug wrap around the crew member's arm.

Hope closed the medical case and stood. “Report to Infirmary. Further treatment is needed.”

The sitting crew member looked toward the other one who remained standing throughout the entire experience. She then stared at Hope while getting to her feet.

Her voice came out barely audible. “Yeah . . . sure.”

Guided by the male crew member, she headed down the passageway. Hope watched the two humans depart and then, gathering her case, followed them.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

#

Hope made her way efficiently to Deck Two and now moved through the passageways of the ship to Section Eight. The medical case she carried moved in a precise arc in opposition to her stride. Several sections of the passageways were darkened and filled with shadows, lit only by emergency lighting. Others caught reflected light from other portions of the corridor that had maintained power.

She adjusted her pace only once when two repair technicians moved a large cart of equipment down the passageway toward her. The other crew members she encountered either were not in locations that interfered with her intended path or else moved aside as she passed. She regarded none of them, ignoring the occasional stare as she strode past.

Following the curve of the corridor, Hope slowed as she saw the seared section of bulkhead. She quickly determined that the damage appeared to be mostly superficial; there appeared to be little danger of an imminent breach. Two crew members were present: one (human male) was kneeling, the other one (human female) was seated on the deck with her back against the bulkhead, cradling her left arm.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2 (continued)

She had always hated the waiting, even more so when she was not even certain what she was waiting for.

Hearing the main hatch open, she glanced over, secretly hopeful that it was Rusty arriving with a personal report on the status of their main drive. While the crew member wore the uniform of someone from the Engineering section, it was definitely not the Chief Engineer. The young female engineer looked nervously around the bridge and then moved toward one of the engineering control stations located port and aft from the command deck.

Devereux tried not to let her disappointment show, but still felt the motion of her lips betraying her. She released a small, nearly silent sigh. Shifting her chair into position, she had nearly sat down when she noticed the female engineer puzzling over the inactive console. Devereux watched for a moment and then smiled to herself. It would be something to do while she waited—and it was definitely preferable to hovering near the tactical or helm stations and annoying Hawkes or Pyrafox.

The engineer looked up from the console as she heard Devereux approach. The young woman’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard. Devereux tried to put her at ease with a quick smile.

“Having trouble, Ensign?”

Swallowing again against what Devereux was certain was a nervous lump in her throat, the young woman nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

The ensign’s cheeks were beginning to reveal a rosy tinge. Devereux fought the urge to smile again. Rather than removing the tool from the young engineer’s hands, she reached into the equipment case and took a different one.

“How about if I give you a hand?”

The ensign studied her for a long moment before responding. Devereux was certain that the young engineer feared that a reprimand was coming, or at least some kind of detrimental mark would now be listed in her service record. She patted the surface of the console lightly.

“These old CP3000 stations can be tricky to get into,” she said in a light, almost conspiratorial, tone. “Let me show you a trick a repair tech showed me once when I was an ensign on the Lancer.”

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 2

- 2 -

Devereux stood before the main command console, staring down, but seeing nothing of what the displays showed her. Part of her wanted to march down to the main Engineering deck to see for herself what was happening, but she knew that doing so would accomplish little. More than likely, it would just serve to feed her already gnawing disquiet. The Chief would give his report when he had something worthwhile to report; there was nothing that she could do to hurry that along.

She remained standing, silently considering how quickly this mission has fallen apart. It has been an honor for her vessel to have been selected for the test flight. Even if she knew that one of the major factors had been that the Emerald Flight was not constructed from one of the standard sets of the blueprints that the most of the other starships of the fleet were built from. This made her ship, like it or not, a bit more . . . expendable if something went terribly wrong. And something had.

It could have been far, far worse, she knew. Aside from the sudden failure of the slipstream drive, the damage to the ship itself seemed to be minor. A few hours worth of work and those repairs would be completed. That then just let them . . . stranded.

With their communications systems scrambled by the sudden slipstream departure, they could not even signal for assistance. If the interference did not clear soon, there was always the option of sending someone out in the ship’s lone shuttle to establish contact. We’re not at that stage yet, she decided. Rusty will find a way to jump start those engines, she told herself. Or get out and push.

The mental image made her smile and she felt a little better. They had supplies (although not nearly enough if they had to limp their way back to inhabited space) and her ship was intact. It was a far cry from some of the combat situations that she had endured.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 1 (continued)

Before their flight began, the Chief Engineer (she thought she had heard someone refer to him in passing as “Rusty”, but had not been certain whether in fact they had actually been referring to him) had treated her with an almost mischievous respect. She could see that there was a certain charm beneath his rough and brawny exterior, and there was little doubt that he knew his stuff.

After the initial nervous excitement and minor fanfare passed the voyage became quickly routine. The starship flew, the drive was powered up and engaged, and then the ship flew faster and further. There a subtle, but noticeable sense of excitement among the crew. While some of them were willing to talk to her, it was hardly the content of award-winning interviews.

Her irritated boredom was short-lived, however. The steady pulse on several of the status displays suddenly became chaotic. The deck then rocked beneath her boots, alarms sounded, and it became evident that something had gone terribly wrong. Now, amidst the klaxons that continued to sound through the main Engineering deck, she wished she had selected a quieter location to report from.

She has specifically chosen . . .

. . . told her to get to work.

She removed a small device from her belt and pressed one of the controls. The remote camera positioned near her obediently powered down its lights and lens. A moment later, it retracted its three legs, reducing itself to a smaller, more easily transported form. Roberta smiled, pleased and slightly amused at the ease at which such things took care of themselves for her.

Replacing the remote control back at her waist, she went over to the now-insert camera system. She hefted it experimentally, frowned, and then lifted it. It was no heavier than she remembered, but, after looking around her at the bustling crew members, she realized that she would have to carry it herself out of the compartment. Grunting softly, she lifted it a few centimeters from the deck and headed for the hatchway.

She was saved from having to figure out how to open the hatch without putting the camera system back down by the entry of two new crewmembers. The first, a young male ensign (if she read his rank badge correctly), gallantly held the hatch open for her. The other one watched as she made her way through the hatchway and Roberta could feel her eyes on her. It was not the steely, almost disdainful stare of an officer regarding a civilian, but a different kind of assessment entirely.

Roberta was not certain how she felt about that, and she was not about to turn around to confirm her suspicions. Reading people and their desires was an advantage in her business, one that she had honed well, and she was almost fully certain that the crew member had been evaluating her suitability for activities other than media reporting. The notion did not alarm or disturb Roberta, for she had dallied briefly in college with such relationship, but it had been short-lived. The experience had not been particularly unsatisfactory (she had long since conceded to herself, occasionally reliving the stimulating memories, and even the random fantasy, about such a liaison), but she generally found herself drawn much more strongly to those of the gender opposite to that of her own.

The hatch was closed behind her and she avoided looking back to see who had done it. She gave the security officer positioned there a cheery smile, receiving in turn a stony response that was in direct contrast to the reaction she had received only a few moments before. Her ego brushed aside the slight as she considered her next destination.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 1 (continued)

Something still troubled him and it took a moment before he realized what it was. The readouts that should provide him with the transponder signals from navigational buoys and other vessels alternated between blank and cascades of static. Abrupt departures from slipstream were known to interfere with many of a ship’s operations, sometimes for several hours after event. It was not uncommon to even require complete resets of the supporting hardware systems in order to restore them functioning condition. Still, he took nothing for granted.

“Captain,” he called out again. “Our communications system appear to behaving erratically. While expected, I thought you should be aware.”

Devereux paused and then looked down toward Pyrafox. The navigator checked several displays before nodding affirmation.

“Confirmed, Captain,” Pyrafox reported. “We’re not receiving the usual navigational data stream. Most of the frequencies are either empty or filled with some kind of interference.”

Devereux frowned slightly, but did not appear overly concerned. “Have an Engineering team take a look.”

“Aye, Captain,” Hawkes acknowledged and entered the request. After a moment’s consideration, he raised its priority over that of the tactical systems inspection.

“Hold position here, Ensign,” Devereux said, her gaze once again fixed on the screen. “I want us to stay put until we know what happened and we can make repairs.”

“Yes, Captain,” Pyrafox replied. “Setting all thrusters to standby.”

Devereux nodded slowly. After a moment, her eyes finally left the main displays as she turned and headed toward the command deck.

#

It was hardly the assignment that Roberta Janusae had hoped for. Certainly, a possibly faster and more efficient starship was news, perhaps even of significant importance in a way that Roberta could not quite grasp. To her mind such interest extended chiefly to an audience of technicians and space travel enthusiasts—not quite the broad media exposure she sought. Careers were made by one’s popularity with the general media audience, not by reporting to a select group who undoubtedly knew more than she did about the subject.

Now, amidst the klaxons that continued to sound through the main Engineering deck, she wished she had selected a quieter location to report from. She has specifically chosen it based on her experience on other assignments onboard starships. While the bridge might be where all of the command-level personnel were, it tended to make for extremely dull live reporting. Audiences tended to switch away after more than a few minutes of uniformed officers relaying routine orders. She knew that the key places to be, depending on the mission, were either whatever served as the medical center or the main engineering level. Because this was a mission focused on the test of an experimental upgrade to the starship drive, she had opted for the latter. If anything even remotely worthy was reporting was going to happen, it was going to happen there. She had been right—spectacularly so.

Before their flight began, the Chief Engineer (she thought she had heard someone refer to him in passing as “Rusty”, but had not been certain whether in fact they had actually been referring to him) had treated her with an almost mischievous respect. She could see that there was a certain charm beneath his rough and brawny exterior, and there was little doubt that he knew his stuff.

At that moment, though, she felt very much in the way. So far, no one had snarled at her to get the hell out. Despite her earlier impressions of him, she could imagine the Chief Engineer doing so. In any case, he seemed far too busy calling out to nearly everyone else in the vicinity. Members of the crew darted around her hurriedly, engaged in a multitude of tasks that she was certain that she would barely understand. She desperately wanted to get off the deck before someone put a tool in her hand and told her to get to work.