Deflection, Part 2

Posted on Thu 5th Dec, 2019 @ 1:15am by Captain Torrog & Lieutenant JG Artyom Mikhailov

1,010 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Resolution
Location: FTS Sovatax
Timeline: MD 1, 1250

Previously ... "For one thing, it didn't deflect several pieces of space trash," Pixon said indignantly. "I can show you the dents on the outside, and look right here!" He pointed to a very tiny speck on the bulkhead that might have been a dead gnat. "That one came right through the bulkhead after we docked. It's small, and it was automatically sealed, but it shouldn't have happened at all. Especially in the docking area! You have your own deflectors out here, so why aren't they working to protect us?" Rule 28 was the first one Pixon had ever memorized: A good offense is the best defense.

Now to see what else we discover!

For a navigational deflector to fail so severely was concerning to Artyom. He wouldn't admit it here because doing so would likely involve a lawsuit, but the Ferengi were lucky that the damage hadn't resulted in total decompression. That being said, it was more common for debris to pose a significant hazard to vessels moving at warp speeds... not maneuvering into space dock where the hull should have been more than enough. Artyom pointed to the "speck". "This came through the hull while you were docking? What is your hull composite?"

"Our hull composite?" Pixon asked to gain a moment's thought. He glanced at Torrog, but he wasn't paying any attention to them. Instead, he was talking to someone else, another engineer, but not one who'd been part of Pixon's team. He relaxed slightly. "Oh, you know, just the standard stuff, duranium, tritanium, a little ah ... aluminum oxynit ...." he trailed off without finishing, eyeing his boss who was returning.

"But that's none of your business," he raised his voice and became challenging again. "Your job is to figure out what's wrong with it, not analyze it." It didn't occur to him how foolish that sounded. Analysis was the tool of discovery.

Artyom raised a brow in such a way that would have made a Vulcan proud. "Well, as an engineer, you are obviously familiar with the basic troubleshooting methodology," Artyom said, adding some emphasis in a way that he hoped would 'talk up' his Ferengi counterpart rather than put him on the defensive. It was obvious that Pixon's fear of his commanding officer was overriding most of what constituted the Ferengi degree of common sense.

"First, you verify that the problem exists." Artyom pointed to the sealed hole. "Next is to isolate the cause of the problem." Artyom paused, realizing he was going to have to make this next part sound convincing. "Now this ship has to be what... almost years old? The fact that it's in as good condition as it is means that it's had a capable chief engineer taking care of it, which I assume has been you, correct?" It really didn't help that as Artyom said that, he brushed his hand against the back edge of a panel which came back with something that looked and smelled awful. He quickly wiped it off on his pants before either Ferengi could see.

Swelling up a little, with pride, Pixon nodded. "This ship is 38 years old, and we haven't had any problems until arriving here. I have been chief engineer for the last five of those years, and she's a dream, as good as any of your Starfleet designs. D'Kora class ships get the job done." Of course, he'd asked a lot more of the old girl than most D'Kora engineers, but she'd always come through for him ... until now.

He shook his head, sorrowfully. "I just can't figure this one out, so it's up to you to fix her."

Torrog frowned at his engineer, clearly not happy that he'd admitted to a Starfleet officer that a Ferengi wasn't up to the task of fixing his own ship. He held his tongue, however, because the truth was, his engineer wasn't up to the task. Otherwise, he'd have already fixed the problem, and they could leave the station.

Artyom nodded with a small smile, glad that the friction just came down by a few measures. "Certainly. Can you take me to the navigational dish? We'll start there."

Since Torrog remained silent, there was no one to consult, so after a moment, Pixon shrugged and turned toward a narrow corridor to his left. "Alright, follow me. Watch your head. You people are all so tall, and accidents happen on Ferengi ships when you aren't careful."

The captain watched the two engineers as they walked toward what would be called a Jeffries tube on a Starfleet ship. Of course, Ferengi history recorded that they had first created such a thing and the design had been copied by someone visiting Ferenginar. He wasn't going to argue over that one today, but seeing the Starfleet officer headed to walk the insides of his ship made him uneasy. There was nothing to discover. There was nothing illegal going on, at least by Ferengi standards, and weren't the Ferengi part of the Federation? Still, it almost gave him a stomachache to think of those Starfleet boots walking through the hidden areas of his beloved Sovatax.

Deciding he couldn't let it happen without his supervision, Torrog hurried forward to catch up to the two engineers. Nothing could happen as long as he was there to protect his investment, and maybe his people, too.

They all walked a few meters, turned right, and walked a few more. The corridor became a little narrower, as well as lower just before they stopped at a bulkhead and the Ferengi popped a panel out of the wall. "We'll just climb up here. There's a ... I don't know what you hoo-mans call it, but a sort of walkway access to the dish a couple of decks up."

Pixon motioned to the captain. "Would you care to go first, Sir?"

Moving in front of Starfleet, even symbolically, cheered Torrog, so he moved in and headed up the ladder. "The word you were looking for, Letek Pixon, is catwalk," he called back over his shoulder.

 

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