The Sorting PADD

Posted on 30 Mar 2018 @ 10:15am by Lieutenant Reginald Hawthorn & Staff Warrant Officer William Griffin & Senior Chief Petty Officer Charles Stephens Jr. & Chief Petty Officer Tarsa Rogers

3,268 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Crossing Over
Location: Hanger Deck, Deck 11
Timeline: MD35 || 1055 hours

ON

Why the hanger deck? Why not. So far the Doc's hadn't been able to process too many people through the mental recalibration process, and there didn't seem to be much in the way of order to the process. You got found, or you found sickbay, your head got sorted out. Which for the time being left Reggie with a problem. A problem someone in Starfleet's labyrinthine design offices must have overlooked in a planning session.

Engineering tech's wore a gold shirt under their black duty jackets.
Security officers wore a light caramel shirt under their black duty jacket.
Operations...you get the picture. Orange, gold, or light caramel, it was the same Gosh darn dye every time. And unless their memories were intact, trusting that someone knew what they were doing was out of the question.

So Reggie, with the help of a few able hands, had gathered up every gold shirt he could find and brought them to the hanger deck. It was oddly nostalgic really, wide open space, a herd of vacant expressions staring back. Of course, the fields of the home were filled with bluegrass and a trio of moons in the sky, but the overhead lights worked in a pinch.

He walked to the next hopeful in line and held up a large ruggedised PADD displaying an engineering schematic.

"You mind telling me what this is?" he asked, but could already see the lost and slightly bewildered expression. "Ahh no worries there. You get this instead."

He placed the strip of gold mylar on the back of his hand, waited the half second for the nanopolymer glue to set, and then pointed to an ambling group who were being directed in clean up.

"You just head over there and help them folks out. Soon as you know it someone is gonna come and find you, and sort out your memories," he smiles, patted the guy on the shoulder, and stepped up to the next person. "What is this?"

Ensign Nasek Alora stood further back in line behind the first people looking around, still wearing the repair kit over one shoulder. Her brown hair was tied back as calm eyes scanned the surrounding area curiously while she waited.

The person Reggie had addressed looked down at the gold ribbon now affixed to the back of their hand and walked away to join the cleaners. That group was getting larger by the minute, not that he had anyone he could spare to head to sickbay and throw a log on the fire up there. Besides if he rushed the CMO to get more engineers fixed up she might take flying lessons, and Reggie's heart couldn't take that again.

"Okay, you, Ensign?" he asked, pointing at the PADD in his hands, trying to keep a note of desperation from his voice. "Can you tell me what this is?"

Ensign Nasek, had climbed from deck 6 with another group, curious what the next deck up was she'd gotten off at deck 7 and this was fortunate because when she hit her head in the shaking of the ship during the battle someone was able to take her to sickbay. She was helped and was in the background until a member of the nursing staff had come over with the memory cure. She glanced at the the picture, it took her a moment her memories still settling "A rotational frequency shield algorithm." the Bajoran said a little carefully as though getting used to an old jacket they'd not seen in awhile again.

"Oh thank the Maker-" Reggie let out with a pent of a sigh of relief.

Griffin walked through the main doors of his hanger deck into chaos, people were milling around, some people were sitting, others were lining up for Lieutenant Hawthorn, who appeared to be recruiting for something. His memories were not entirely restored, but he knew enough to know that this state of affairs was untenable. "What in the name of sweet hell is going on in my fighter hanger?" He roared, bass voice drowning out the general hum of the room, "Lieutenant Hawthorn, what d'ya think you're doin' down here messin' up my home?" His face was rapidly turning red as he surveyed the disarray around him, "and why the hell is this place such a god damn mess?!"

"Dang and I had two strips down your noggin' was gonna be full of holes. Well, more so than not. Good to see you up and about it," Reggie said, holding up the PADD in front of another applicant who got a gold sticker, a pat on the back, and welcomed to the menial labour pool. "Don't know if you heard about this whole memory malarky thing, but right now I got me a posse of gold shirts who I can't all trust to do the honest work set before'em."

He turned and looked at Alora.

"Ensign, enlighten the Warrant Officer here as to what happens if you mash your hand against the control panel for an antimatter containment pod, or put your hand near the pretty-pretty plasma stream of a warp coil?" Reggie asked, putting Ensign Alora into the no mans land between the two ship maintainers. "Feel free to use colourful language and visual aids."

Alora looked slightly panicked as only an Ensign drawn into a 'heated discussion' between an engineering Lt. and CWO could look, or at she was now mentally calling them 'rock' and 'hard place'. Her eyes flicked from one to the other briefly and she wet her suddenly dry lips. Her brain still a little jumbled, tossed out the first coherent sentence that occurred to her, "Normally a lack of time to regret ones life choices?" She said then flinched a little in regret herself as she realized what she just said, her eyes taking in both of them as she waited for the ground to swallow her whole.

Charles was in line and there was quite the commotion. It was his turn next. He hoped things would figure out soon he wanted to get his memories back in a bad way. He walked up to Reggie. "So if I tell you what that is do I get my memories back faster or slower? There are a lot of repairs that this ship needs, and according to the Captain damage control is kinda my thing."

"Ya'll just hold your horse, their's plenty of mylar strips and nano glue to go around," Reggie eyed the speaker for taking the PADD and randomly selecting another engineering test page. "Here, control your damage by telling me what that is. Now-"

He turned, putting a hand on Alora's back.

"As my plucky sidekick here was pointing out, folks with noodles for brains do not get to play with high energy plasma or things that make life on the Black Hawk a smidge interesting. Hawks in pain right now thanks to an unorthodox startup process to the warp core. Got a coolant tank in need of replacing, not to mention magnetic confinement rings that need stripping after their lifetime warranty got executed. When we got hull breaches, a Class D metal fire and some sort of environmental hiccup that's turned one corner of Cargo Bay 5 into a snow globe whilst maxing out thermal regulation in the other." he then turned and waved a hand to assembled see of gold. "So we sort'em, we mark'em, and them that don't know which way a hydrospanner goes get to clean up safe messes. Broken bulkheads, floor tiles. Gives'em something to do other than pester everyone else about their memories. Reckon'd your rooker of fools could use the hand given the state of things. Agree with me Ensign?"

"He's going to get me killed." She thought mildly about her CEO. Even as tried to pay attention to the repair list he rattled off, making a note to look up 'snow globe' later. "I'm going to be ended by a senior noncom, I just know it. Oh woman up Nasek." . What she said was, diplomatically, "I believe the Lt. is trying to determine who can do what as of now. Since ones level of familiarity with dangerous repairs would determine if assignment would be wise. However, If I heard right vital engineering and medical staff are among those being given priority for memory return, so there's that." She said trying to cover what she felt she needed to say as briefly as possible, while still answering the related questions.

"Well done Ensign, you get a 'at'a girl' attached to your record. But you loose a point 'cause non-coms can smell fear, get's'em all riled up around officers," Reggie grinned.

Alora shot the Lt. a surprised but brief assessing look, then determined he was joking and relaxed a little though still looked vaguely embarrassed.

Charles understood what they meant but wasn't any less pissed off at the situation. He looked at the PADD. "That would be the coolant matrix that is currently messed up due to the one tank being empty. I would like to get started on sealing up the hole in the tank so we can start to bring that tank back online." Charles said with a very straight face. "If you can get me fast forwarded to the memory recovery line, I can go get started with as much knowledge as I can." He smiled there.

"Wait," Reggie said, holding up a finger as he looked at Stephens. "Are you saying that you don't have your memory in order but you can make tails from the heads on that PADD?"

"No I only know who I am because the Captain told me. Ever since I came to my memories may be lost but my ability to work with the system seems to be kinda second nature."

"Ah-huh, well-" Reggie bagn to say.

"Sir," Tarsa interjected, "do you have orders for us? If not, we should get back to work."

"Yeah, might have a point there Chief." he said, nodding at Tarsa. "Any Engineer standing apart from the crowd whose hand is not dotted with a mylar ribbon, get'em to work. We got a bruised warp core that got spun up the wrong way and a coolant tank that needs replacing. Chief Stephens here wants a crack at it, but I'm more than happy to see his burden aided. Hull breaches can wait until we're sure powers stable and ain't gonna brownout on us. Besides, we'll need folks in EVA gear to help with the breaches, and I think I saw most of the qualified spacer's hang out in the litter picking brigade."

As this happened Reggie smeared some glue onto a strip of mylar, took Chief Stephens hand and attached it to the back of it with a shake.

"As fancy as instinct as engineering methodology goes I have no intention of letting you near a hydrospanner without the Doc's checkin' your spark plugs. You wait over there with the others, and we'll get you sorted out right quick."

Charles was pissed. He knew that they needed every able body to get these repairs done. Even in his empty minded state he could see they were not gonna fix themselves. Instead of moving me to the front of the line to get my memories back this dope put him in the process line. It took everything he had not to deck him in the face. "If you have your memories then should you already know how important it is to get me in the front of this damn line?"

"To get to the front of the line you need to be slapped by a monkey, I do not recommend it. Now get, or I'll sick the Ensign on with her apologises and sharp teeth. Reckon that'd be a painfully slow way to meet the Maker, but she's an Ensign so order's are orders," Reggie grinned wide.

Rogers shook her head. "The Senior Chief would best know the ability of his team. I've got a team working on the power issues. I was with them until," she paused briefly, motioning at the people Hawthorn had assembled, "this." She knew she often came off to people. Her discipline and demeanor on duty, in public really, often made her seem mean. She'd be called a bitch more than once, and she generally didn't disagree.

“I like you, ya got fire enough between your teeth to spot weld duranium siding. And seeming as you know what power issues we got to handle with, get back to it. Just don’t do anything that might jostle Antimatter Pod 5, its field containment’s got a wobble and I have a team siphoning the anti lithium to one of its companion tanks. Once the pods empty and unpowered you are free and clear to do the heavy lifting,” Reggie instructed.

Her eyes rolled so hard you could almost hear them. "Yes sir," Rogers replied, obediently. I've been doing this longer than you have, Lieutenant, she thought.

He pursed his lips.

"Warrant Officer Griffin, any of your boys and girls of ill repute certified for vacuum work with a welding and cutting rig?" Reggie asked.

Griffin watched the exchange between the two officers. There was, as usual, a method to the Chief Engineer's madness, and he couldn't help but smile at the idea of nano-gluing strips to memoryless people. It made sense. "I do, an' all the crew chiefs have got the training. We've practiced it here in the bay with the doors open, but I don't know which of my guys got their brains unscrambled yet."

Relieved the spotlight seemed to be off her and on to the work, Alora properly relaxed. She had pulled out a PADD that highlighted needed repairs and made notes as the more experienced personnel talked. It settled her to know there was a plan in the hands of people who would know. She had hated the not knowing, the wanting to help but not sure how. It had been beyond frustrating. And now things would return to normal, plans were being made and soon she'd be able to go off and fix something.

Griffin cleared his throat again, "any of you slackbodies got yer brains unjumbled, drop what you're doin' and report to Lieutenant Hawthorn, we're all on damage control duty! Crew Chiefs, report to me!" He turned to Reggie and in a considerably more normal tone told him, "sir, we should get someone with a clear head to take all the dummies down to Sickbay to get treated."

"Ensign Alora, you ever ride heard on a hundred head of cattle?" Reggie asked in the way that made it clear if she hadn't that skill check was about to arise. "Right now you outrank the crowd of memoryless goobers. If I leave you here in charge of 'em, ensuring they keep cleaning up the mess our entrance to the Zone made and not setting themselves or the ship on fire, you up for the task?"

Griffin bridled at the idea of leaving a half-addled kid in charge of his bay, but with the apparent damage to the ship, anyone who wasn't half, or fully-addled needed to be elsewhere doing repairs. None of his fighter maintenance crew had responded to his call, which was annoying, but all the same some work did seem to be getting done.

"Lieutenant, where do you need me to be?" He asked Reggie gruffly. He had his own ideas of where to start but had to defer rank and position, the ship belonged to Hawthorn, after all. "Structural repair or internal systems?"

"If you've got a Masters certification in EVA work I could use your help on the hull. Seems a few of the quarters on the upper hull gone and got themselves skylights. Sections are sealed off but until the hulls patched not a lot more we can do. If you don't mind working for your supper, thats your's if you want it." Reggie offered.

Griffin grinned, having something productive to do was like a balm on his spirit. He hadn't done EVA work in years, but you never really forgot how and the job was a fair bit bigger than he was used to, but he knew he was more than up to the task. "I'm an enlisted man, Lieutenant. Workin' for my supper ain't nothin' new to me. I'll gather up my tools an' get on it."

"Outstanding Chief. I'll have one of my boys outside in a WorkBee loaded with the necessary supplies and equipment and spare O2 tanks. I'll have a bottle of Warp Core reserve waiting for ya when you get back in," he grinned.

Alora wished she could be off fixing something but organizing basic clean up would at least be something productive and it was needed at least. She glanced at the groups carefully handling pieces of debris, "can do, Sir" though mentally she thought organizing the memory impaired to be a bit of a challenge. She looked game enough to try it but like she was working a problem. She didn't feel now was the time to correct him that her last name was Nasek, more important things to focus on. Then a thought occurred, "I better go get the basic safety equipment, gloves and the like. Anything else I should know Sir? Or shall I organize the clean up schedule on my own?" She asked the Lt. more in her element now that there was an actual project before her.

"It ain't exactly the independent command most ensigns want, but these ones all yours. Consider it your own ship for the time being," he said, patting her on the back. "Being Engineer's means more than just fixin' that which is broke. I remember being a boot ensign on the Olympia, first mission out was a humanitarian aid sortie. Comet fragment hit a planet throwing it into a near Fimbulwinter. No solar, fusion plants all out of whack. Spent more time helping keep the peace than fixin' power lines. As Engineer's we keep the light of civilisation burning."

He then pointed.

"I think one of your posse over there just picked up a spot welder."

Alora had come to her full height as he talked, a sense of pride in her body language. It was up to the engineers to keep things running well, all their lives depended on each other and the technology around them. She felt pride...right up until he pointed out the spot welder issue. Then it was with a dawning look of horror she muttered "Excuse me..." hurriedly but politely then took off toward the offender, "Put that down! Carefully!" her voice commanding enough several near the man also stopped what they were doing in addition to the offender in question.

"If she can keep'em in lines, she'll make a fine Chief Engineer one day," Reggie said with a smile. "That or she'll meld them into a memoryless army answering to her beck and call and overthrow the Cap'n like the fall of Rome. Either way, not my concern. Chief, I'll leave you to your work. All the rest of you know what needs doing. You find more folk not sure of whats going on, send them to join Major General Alora here and golden army. I'll be in Engineering if anyone needs me working like the devil. So, ya know, don't need me or nothing. If there are no more questions, lets get to work 'fore we get given more of it."

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