Engineering Maintenance Report
Posted on Mon Feb 7th, 2022 @ 4:53pm by Lieutenant Commander Dorian Sheppard
Edited on Wed Oct 26th, 2022 @ 1:12pm
467 words; about a 2 minute read
“Again,” Sheppard orders from within the secondary refractor panel crawlspace and Ensign Collins triggers the charge inclimiter.
“Nothing, sir,” the Ensign relays, and Chief Engineer Sheppard scowls, lying on his back in the crawlspace amid a jumble of multicolored wires with his feet sticking out in to the corridor.
“Acknowledged,” Sheppard replies. “Running a Level Two diagnostic.” He taps his PADD and says, “Computer, run Level Two diagnostic program Engineering two, Command authorization Sheppard gamma six one.”
“-Authorization denied-“ the computer retorts.
“Sheppard gamma six two?” the Chief Engineer tries.
“-Level Two diagnostic processing-“ the computer responds.
“Note to self,” Sheppard whispers to himself. “Update all your secure command prompts for the new ship.”
“-Note recorded-“ the computer responds, and Sheppard blushes. “You’ve got sensitive ears,” he says in jest.
The diagnostic report details a tripped switchgear in the dilation array.
“We’re overloading the hypervalency module,” Sheppard explains, digging through the tangle of wires to find something specific. “Let me try coupling the AAAUGHKK!”
There’s a puff of acrid smoke and Commander Sheppard’s legs thrash about.
“Collins to Sickbay,” the Ensign taps his comm and barks. “Emergency in Engineering!”
“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” comes the voice of the EMH as it materializes next to the Ensign.
“It’s ok, -kof-“ Sheppard calls from the floor. “Just a mild discharge shock.” He slides out from the crawlspace feet first, still on his back. “It’s not the first time that’s happened to me,” he explains, trying to stand.
“Stay where you are until I’ve completed your assessment,” the EMH says, scanning Sheppard with a tricorder.
“Where are the real doctors?” Ensign Collins asks. “No offense.”
“Commander Sheppard is fine,” the EMH says, closing his tricorder. “Cardiac output and respiration are within acceptable parameters,” it explains. “As for the real doctors,” It replies, and you could swear there’s a tinge of annoyance in its tone, “they are treating a mysterious strain of Influenza V1A.1kappa, which takes priority over a ‘mild discharge shock’. If there is no further emergency…”
“No, no. We’re fine here,” Sheppard states emphatically, pushing himself over and standing.
The EMH dissipates, and Sheppard turns to Collins. “Shut down power to this entire bank,” he says with a sigh. “And have Rabahk replace the inclimiter with a tier three after he rewires the array.” He shakes his head to clear his vision, pats the Ensign on the shoulder, and moves to a seat. “All with my apologies, of course,” he says, catching his breath.
Standing again, he says, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my quarters.”
“Back in an hour,” he says over his shoulder, heading for the turbolift and rubbing the finger tips of his right hand.
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