STF

Side Sim - Engineering - not an inspection

Posted Feb. 21, 2023, 8:32 a.m. by Lieutenant Miranda Martel (Chief Engineer) (Sam Haynes)

Posted by Commander Mwezi (Executive Officer) in Side Sim - Engineering - not an inspection
Mwezi thought about some advice he’d been given as he stepped into the Engineering section of the ship. The “rabid pelican” was such a small ship that it didn’t take long to get there. Such an odd name, he wondered how they’d come up with it. The tall officer glanced around, seeking the relatively unfamiliar sight of Lt. Martel. From what he’d learned of Engineers, they didn’t like meeting in neutral locations. They preferred to chat on their own territory, while working on familiar tasks. He noticed an NE who was checking engine levels on a console and waited just within sight of the young officer until noticed.

“Oh, hi… you must be… our new first officer?” the NE asked, looking up, and up, and up until their eyes met. They swallowed, apparently intimidated by Mwezi. Well, he did look like a predator from their planet.

“Yes. I am seeking Lt. Martel.”

“Oh, alright. She’s, ah, in that area.”

Mwezi nodded and headed off into that direction.

Mwezi, XO

The engineering spaces of most Federation ships of the line were spacious. However, the Brazen-class was not as roomy. Space was at a premium aboard the destroyer/escort. And with an after-market cloaking device plugged into the vessel, even well-designed as it was, meant there was even less space. But still, it wasn’t too tight for someone of Mwezi’s stature to get around.

He would soon come upon a pair of legs sticking out from an access panel, with a soft flowing string of swearing and cursing. A loud pop came from the interior in a bright flash. The panels nearby went dark accompanied by more cursing of which the wielder of such seemed to be proficient from frequent or at least recent practice. Sliding out, a the sable-haired engineer with seafoam green eyes bumped into one of Mwezi’s legs blindly. Moving to sit up she cracked her head on the underside of one of the control panels with a barked curse. Holding her spinning head in one hand she looked up.. and up.. and up.. enough to get vertigo from the floor.

Then it dawned on her who the fuzzball was. “Commander,” she grumbled in greeting as she moved to stand up.

Of course there was no uniform, this being a mutineered pirate vessel and they all had to not just pretend the part but to BE the part. Instead it was replaced with a pair of black heavier boots, dark gray thick cargo type pants that rode a little low on her hips, and a form-fitting dark shirt that looked comfortable, businesslike, and clung to her to prevent anything loose from getting caught in any machinery. She wore a baseball style cap with her hair tucked up into a short but neat ponytail. Ship’s combadge, the only thing ‘Starfleet’ left, rested over her left breast. And of course the liberated phaser poking out of one pocket from their recent haul.

“What can I do for you,” she said as she wiped at something on one hand.

Martel


Posts on USS Asimov

In topic

Posted since


© 1991-2024 STF. Terms of Service

Version 1.15.9