This is All Your Fault

Posted on Thu Apr 11th, 2019 @ 6:23am by The Narrator & Lieutenant Commander Mara Ricci & Stephen Spires

Mission: S1E3: Moments Of Consolidation
Location: Runabout Fallstaff, surface of Carpathia
Timeline: MD6 11.50AM

After the rest of the away team had left the shuttle, Mara had nothing to do but to sit and wait while the neural stimulator did its work. She was annoyed, of course. Stupid Spires and his stupid concussion! She should be out there, headed towards this alien technology and here she was looking after the biggest jerk she had ever laid eyes on.

“Exactly how I wanted to spend my day,” she muttered irritably.

"Not exactly how I wanted to spend it either," Rollins shouted from the rear of the Runabout, his voice carrying through the open hatchways between him and the cockpit. "But some folks wanted to take a field trip and my bird was the one on the chopping block for science."

"Could you tell that fucker to keep it down?" Stephen moaned. "Loud enough to wake the dead..."

“Sure,” said Mara with mock gentleness. Then, her demeanor changed and she snapped, “can it, Spires!” Though there was still a tender quality that she would never quite be able to erase from her voice. Silently, she blamed it on a woman’s natural instincts to nurture.

"Yeah do what the Chief tell's you. But, er, hey if you get bored down there with the guy who head-butted a bulkhead for fun and profit, you can come help me figure out where the antimatter reactor isn't working," there was a grunting sound. "Contamination error my ass, things as cold and radioactively inert as they com-ARGH!!"

A sound like spilling water filled the air, hiding Rollin's cursing as he staggered from the engine compartment and onto the flight deck, his chest and head soaked in a vicious green ooze that dripped from his fingers as he tried to move it from his eyes.

"Serves you right, you sum-bitch." Stephen started to chuckle at the remark, but winced in pain for the effort. "Seriously, though. How fucked are we right now?"

“Five ways to Sunday,” replied Mara. “But don’t worry about that right now. Just rest and let this thing work. I don’t want to have to nurse you for too much longer. Stay here, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She turned to the portable EMH thing. “Alert me if his condition changes, okay?”

"Affirmative. Life signs are: stable. Cranial pressure is: normal. Continuing situational awareness scan of the patient. Life signs are: stable. Cranial pressure is: normal. Continuing situational awareness scan of the patient. Life signs are..."

Exiting the shuttle to join Rollin, Mara took a look around. “What were you doing before... before this?” she asked, indicating the goo. “Where did it come from?”

"It came out of the antimatter reactor chamber," Rollin's said in a mortified voice. "The diagnostic's sensors reported no high-temperature plasma, no magnetohydrodynamic reactions. But it kept saying there was a contamination warning, so I cracked open the inspection hatch to look at it and..."

He flicked a hand, sending a blob of the goo to the deck.

"I think it's in my nose," Rollin's said mournfully.

"It looks like warp plasma," said Mara slowly. "But it's highly corrosive. You should be burned by now. Or at the very least, your clothing should be falling apart. Which makes me think something contaminated it and changed it. Which means we probably can't fly this thing, even if I can put it back together again."

"So call in help," Spires whimpered. He'd gotten back to his feet and winced his way to see what the commotion was all about. "Safe enough for reinforcements and yall could clearly use a hand."

“What are you doing?” demanded Mara as she started back towards Spires. “Lie back down!” Seeming to remember something, she turned back and punched a yellow panel on the side of the shuttle. With a hiss of escaping air, a large panel on the side of the shuttle opened and a small but adequate hazard shower slid out of it, along with a smaller compartment meant to hold destroyed and contaminated clothing. “Get those clothes off and wash off the goo,” she told Rollin. “I’ll see if I can find something for you to wear in the shuttle.” With that, she went back inside the shuttle. “Lie down,” she ordered Spires, pressing a hand to his chest to reinforce the idea. “You’re not quite healed yet. I don’t need you passing out and reinjuring yourself.

Stephen made to argue, but then the world did a 360 spin while standing still. "Fair enough..."

Mara caught him and helped him back to the floor. "Men!" she said in mock exasperation. "Now where did that Ensign Sue go? I need to know how you're actually doing."

The small tricorder sized medical aid began to make a loud, obnoxious pinging sound to get Mara's attention. As this happened, Rollin's from the shower stall began to grumble about something or other. At this point Calhoon stepped in from the outside, a tool kit hung over his shoulder.

"So landing gear are okay, I think that shock absorber will hold out for another landing. Engines are fine but the fuel lines are gunked up with-...what the hell is that noise?" the pilot shouted loudly over the Ensign Mary Sue 'Help Me I've Fallen Over And Can't Get Up!' alarm.

Quickly, Mara located the holoprojector and turned it right side up. “Spires must have kicked it over,” she said as the little hologram reappeared. “How’s the concussion on our patient?” she asked it.

"Diagnostic scans show: minor improvement. Suggested next steps, continued observation, Any instances of drowsiness or unconsciousness should be reported to your Medical Officer." Ensign Mary Sue reported from her little plastic-lined shell.

"So the beat reporter gets to live another day eh?" Calhoon said. "Guess that means you can help me clear the fuel lines. Pretty sure the anti-matter reactor's toast, but I only need to get the fusion power plant online to run the RCS thrusters. Plenty of delta V in those puppies to get us off the ground and out of the storm shell if we have too. Won't be smooth, and not an ounce of inertial compensation...but its a plan B."

"I'll be right there," Mara promised, glancing around. She found the neural stimulator and replaced it on Spires' head. "Now stay put," she ordered sternly. "You're no good to anyone like this."

"I've suffered worse," Stephen grunted, but he quit resisting all the same.

That done, Mara quickly searched a few compartments until she found something that looked like it would fit Rollin. It was the wrong color uniform, but it would have to do for now. She took it and a towel outside and slung them onto the edge of the translucent glass door. "That should work for you," she said, and then headed over to help Calhoon. "All right," she said. "What have you found?" she asked.

Rollin's didn't say anything from inside the stall but seemed to grab the garment and drag it into the opaque stall.

Calhoon chuckled and stepped down the boarding stairs and led Mara around to the rear of the Arrow class runabout. She really was a beautiful design, sleek, fast looking. If the Danube class and Yellowstone's had been the workhorses of the Fleet, then the Arrow's were going to be the thoroughbreds. Towards the rear the lower engine housing had been removed, peeling back on armoured shutters to reveal the more delicate internal plumbing.

"Solar collectors should get us enough power to at least get us enough pressure in the system to run the RCS thrusters, what we used to call back in my Utopia Planitia days as 'runnin' on teakettle'. Those RCS thrusters can throw a lot of thrust when they have to, but its getting reaction mass to them," he pointed to a pile of green gello on the floor beneath an inspection valve. "I assume that stuff is why Rollin's is taking the bleach bath? Its gumming up the works. Could use a thought on how to clear it out before we try powering up for a test."

"Knock a hole in the line," Stephen called from the back. "Pressure will do the work from there for you. Might wanna' lay a bucket under the hole though or it could get messier than Mara's Dirty 30 birthday party."

"PIpe down Press Corp!" Calhoon shouted back, before in a quieter voice to Mara. "You had a Dirty 30 birthday party?"

“Don’t be absurd!” replied Mara with a scowl. “He didn’t even know me then, anyway. He has a point, though,” she added grudgingly. “It would be the easiest way. But I don’t want to leave any behind; I won’t pollute unnecessarily. We’d have to have a sure way to catch everything That comes out.”

"I think the Junior Science Squad had some sample containers that could do the trick," Calhoun said with a grin and nodded. "You work on getting the goo out of the hoses, and I'll get the space garbage can."

"Looks like Stephen Spires saves the day yet again..." Stephen half-grunted, half-chuckled.

"And you didn't even swallow your tongue," Calhoon said as he passed Spires on his way to the cargo bay. "I'll get the container, and we can set up camp whilst it drains."

"Just because you were right doesn't mean you saved the day," Mara pointed out. And in truth, it was basic second grade physics. Hadn't they all put baking soda and vinegar into a bottle, shaken it, and watched as the pressure blew the cap and half of the contents into the air? But she wasn't going to bother to point that out to Spires. Let him think he'd won and she was just bitter. She was more concerned with actually getting this useless goop cleaned up than what Spires thought of her.

"I know what I'm about..." Stephen soon nodded off to sleep.

"Red? The one spare uniform in the locker and it's a red shirt?" Rollin's called, stepping out of the decon shower, his hair still wet as he toweled it. "You know this is a cursed colour right? We're in a dead jungle, next to a tower that looks like the rib bone of a god, and somethings monkeyed with the laws of physics to turn highly energised gas into mess hall jello. And you gave me a beacon of misfortune?"

“Stop being superstitious,” replied Mara. “It’s clothes, isn’t it? Just put it on and get over here. We need help clearing out this goo.”

"Don't let him anywhere near it with a redshirt on," Stephen said. "I don't wanna' go out like that."

“Go back to sleep, Spires,” replied Mara, exasperated.

"Yeah, go back to sleep," Rollin's said, tugging at his shirt. "I'm going to go help Calhoon set up the tent-"

"Busy helping the engineer fix the engine," Calhoon said, slipping past carrying a Liquid Sample Container (bucket). "I mean I'd love to help, but expert rated field work. My hands are tied."

Stephen sighed and settled himself back down to let the neural stimulator do its job.