Part 1: A rotten apple

Posted on 18 May 2017 @ 7:42pm by Lieutenant JG Grayson Jones & Ambassador Soral Varro
Edited on on 24 May 2017 @ 5:29pm

2,376 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 15 - Emanation
Location: Earth - San Francisco
Timeline: MD 02, 0800 hours

ON:

Varro shuddered. He was regretting agreeing to Captain MacIntosh’s idea that she come with him to the conference. Her choice of music was slowly making his ears bleed but to be honest he needed an old friend. The debriefs were going to start for him soon, he’d gone through medical testing to prove he was who he was and now he had a few days here with the debriefs and all the fallout that could come of this. He’d decided that today he would use as a rest day. That damned Klingon ship had started him thinking, as much as he hated engineering he needed a brush up course and luck was on his side. He’d be taking in an engineering brush up course and then he’d be doing a diplomatic debrief about New Romulus and then maybe a night out.

“Come on Varro loosen up. Get up and dance.”

Varro raised an eyebrow at her. She and Marcus had always got on well but Varro found her extreme, and oddly comforting. Today was the anniversary of Marcus’ loss so it was good to have someone who was close to him here. It brought him back a little. “Madam I cannot fly and dance. The last thing I want to do is crash this heap of tritanium you are attempting to call a shuttle.”

MacIntosh laughed. Captain Apple MacIntosh was a character. She loved to tease and have fun, she was reckless, somewhat hotheaded but alive and full of life. She grinned. “In all the years I’ve known you I have never seen you this ridged and stuck up. Congratulations Varro the stick up your butt has now officially boldly gone farther than any stick before.” She burst out laughing.

Varro sighed. He banked hard left causing Apple to bump against the consol.

“Ouch! Damn! Are you trying to break my elbow?”

Varro raised an eyebrow, “Pure accident, I would never want to bruise you…Apple.”

She rolled her eyes. “ Har Har Har.”

Varro allowed himself a smile, “Bite me….Apple.”

The captain busted out laughing, “I knew the old Varro was in there.”

Varro had been just about to comment when a low pitched buzzing started. The shuttle shuddered and shook.

Apple, never a good flyer, grabbed the console. “What’s going on?”

Varro’s hands flew over the consoles. “Your heap of dung is dying.”

Just as he’d finished speaking the shuttle took a nose dive.

Apple screeched shattering what was left of Varro’s eardrum. He quickly switched to manual and with quick reflexes he managed to level out the nose of the shuttle and bring it down with a jarring thud.

Apple was the first to exit and fall to the ground, “Land!!!!”

Varro, feeling shaken, walked out and rolled his eyes. “I told you this would happen. This piece of junk is old and dilapidated. I don’t understand…”

Apple stood up and held up her hands. “It’s my dad’s shuttle. I will never get rid of it. Can you…fix it?”

Varro rolled his eyes. “Just leave it here. We can have a hover car pick us up and…”

“No!” Her temper flared. “Soral Varro you will fix this shuttle. I’m not leaving Granny Smith here.”

Varro’s eyes popped out. “Seriously…the shuttle is named Granny Smith?”

She shrugged, “Dad liked apples.”

Varro smiled. “Alright why don’t you go on ahead, call a hover car and I will attempt to fix your rotting apple.”

She walked away laughing.


Several Hours Later

Varro had long tossed his jacket off. His white tank was now filthy with dust as he bent over the items he'd removed from the shuttle in an attempt to create a quick fix. Apple had gone on ahead and Varro felt like ripping out his hair. Everything he'd tried had either shocked him or not worked. He had one more trick up his sleeve.

Having been around Starfleet Headquarters and catching up with old friends in the Engineering Departments, Grayson was on hand when a signal came in from a distressed ship. Most of his friends were due back teaching or their other assignments, he, however, had the day free and offered to check it out. Scans showed it wasn't far away and there wasn't much wrong with it. The engineer quickly put together his usual kit essentials and headed to a transporter pad.

As he shimmered back into existence his freshly rematerialised eyes spotted the wounded bird before him. She was a little banged up from what his tricorder told him, but nothing a little time and effort would mend. Calling out, he got no reply but knew there were life signs in the area. A distortion from an ODN relay was messing with his readings. Approaching, Grayson noticed a figure of a man, attempting to fix something, horribly. He called out softly as not to alarm him, "Erm, I would move my hands away if I was you. If you want to keep them that is," Grayson smiled and hoped his words would not startle the would-be engineer.

Varro held up his hand. He was not determined to fix this beast. "I know what I'm doing." He pulled out the green ship and the blue ship and switched them on the hover compressor. Smiling he was just about to turn when a surge from the unit hit him taking him back four feet into a tree. He grunted. "Damn!" He cursed as his old engineering professors words flooded back to him.

The man was lucky not to have caused more injury to himself, Grayson thought.

Varro was up in a second ignoring the visitor for the moment. Somewhat shakily he walked back to the unit. "Blue in Green," he said as he pulled out the blue chip from the green slot, "Should never be seen, unless you have pulled out the heart from the slot of hell," Varro pulled out the red chip. "And unless you've applied the little mellow yellow and heard the bell!" He finished as he inserted the yellow chip into the red slow and then indeed a bell like chirp sounded. He inserted the blue chip back into the green slow and the green chip into the blue slow and the unit powered up.

Varro sighed. "Now I just have to figure the rest of this mess out...." He then remembered his visitor. He turned around to survey the new visitor. "When did you arrive?"

"A few moments ago. We picked up a distress signal back at HQ. I came out to help. Lieutenant Grayson Jones, Engineer," the Trill introduced himself, realising how much he missed the Chief part of introducing himself. "Got my kit handy to assist if needed. Shouldn't take too long to get her flight worthy again. I can get her back to a dock to get the dings, dents and paint job fixed as well."

Varro's eyes just about popped out, "I sent no signal. Mr. Jones, I am Ambassador Soral Varro of the Federation. Are you telling me that you have no faith in my abilities to fix this ship?"

"No, not at all. Just when we get a signal we investigate. Either the force of the crash was enough to set the alarm off on its own, or possibly that the circuit you are working on interfaces with systems directly tied to the transponder. Either way, as I say, we investigate and help where we can." Grayson was used to this kind of response, in all actuality, he thought the man had no idea what he was doing. His hands did look terribly shocked and slightly singed after all.

Varro sighed and smiled slightly, "Well you should have no faith what so ever in my abilities, and....I probably, without intention, set off the signal." He gestured to the ship, "Granny Smith is all yours."

"I could tell," Grayson smiled as he moved in to take over, "I do though, like to give people the benefit of the doubt who are at least trying. If you wouldn't mind closing up the panel? We can head inside and fix most things from there," he continued his cheery smile and disposition as he headed in and began to open his kit. "The Granny Smith though? I know this is an older design, but she is no Granny."

Varro happily closed up the panel and followed his new companion inside. "Well the owner, Captain Apple MacIntosh, received this from her father who was apparently fond of apples."

"Oh that I get," Grayson gave a little laugh. "I have a dermal regenerator in my kit if you want to patch up your hands?" He retrieved the small curved, cuboid device and held it up. "Take a load off and relax and I should have us good to go in twenty minutes," he confessed while unzipping his jacket. It was one of the few times he would admit Starfleet uniforms were better, he didn't mind if they got dirty.

Varro smiled fully now, a dazzling smile that was, in truth, a bit rusty. "Much appreciated. The Captain who owns this ship will be very grateful to you."

"Is the Captain about? Needing any assistance?" Grayson asked as he began work on the damaged internal electrical systems. He lay flat on his back, half inside a now exposed panel, a hyper spanner in his hand and his words slightly muffled by the sonic driver he was holding with this teeth. Grayson's free hand was fixing his t-shirt that had begun to ride up on him the more he slid into the exposed ship innards.

"She has gone on to the Academy," Varro said. He tended to his hands noticing his companion for the first time. A tall, athletic man with a slightly Scottish accent. He had light spots hinting at a Trill heritage and intense teal eyes. "I apologize for my rudeness."

"No need Ambassador, I appeared out of nowhere, you were trying your best," Grayson replied, pulling himself out to change over tools. "Would you mind checking the plasma flow rate and telling me when it reaches 0.8? That will give us enough to limp the ship home. There is a bit more extensive work needed back here than I can do out in the field."

Varro gave a nod. He moved over to the console and brought up ad plasma graphs. "Apple will be vary happy with your help," he said watching the readings drop and rise looking out for stability. "She'll probably grant you a knighthood if she could." Varro smiled slightly. Varro reflected on his visitor. He'd spent many a nice day in Scotland while studying. "Please call me Varro, I don't stand on titles unless I am frustrated or trying to get my way."

"As long as you call me Grayson then," the engineer replied, "since I'm technically off the clock. I wouldn't say no to a Sir Jones though," he joked. The calliper in his hand was twisting around some of the flow pipes in order to achieve a stable enough supply to get them going. "How are those levels looking then?"

Varro studied them, "Getting there." Silence stretched out and Varro had the need to fill it, a need he'd never experienced. Usually he used silence to his advantage. "You have an accent." He silently cursed himself for display of stupidity. He hated obvious comments like that yet his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own today.

"No I don't, you do," Grayson joked as he continued to work away, feeling the temperature rise in his small compartment and the sweat drip down the sides of his brow.

Varro laughed, "I suppose that I do. I studied at the London campus. I'm rather fond of my accent." He scratched the back of his neck. The levels had reached desired numbers but Varro was reluctant to give out that news. He shook his head. "I think the levels are good."

"You don't sound too confident there," Grayson said, sliding up and sitting up. "We all have accents to each other compared to where we came from. Yours is quite charming actually. I was raised just outside Glasgow, in Scotland. Not quite as thick as I spent much of my youth travelling with my father. Diluted it a bit." He walked over to the controls and had a scan. "All looks good to me, quick visual inspection of outside and will be good to fly if you'd like to pilot?"

Varro smiled, "I spent many days of quiet study in Glasgow." He studied the teal eyed man noting the sheen of sweat adding a layer of sparkle to him. "Piloting I can do, I...I think you should do the inspection. I'll start lift off procedure." He said suddenly felt the need to take a moment.

"I'll contact the Corps while doing it, get us a priority landing and get them to inform the Captain where her shuttle is as well. Get her to meet there if needed," Grayson stepped outside for a quick inspection.

Varro took a steadying breath when Grayson left. He raised an eyebrow at himself. He didn't understand what he was doing and what was happening to him. He was acting like a ninny. He sighed and took a few moments to steady himself.

Minutes later Grayson returned, "If you go easy on the port thrusters she is good to fly. Part of the housing has been warped. These are the coordinates of the landing pad set up for us," he tapped away at the console to input the location. It wouldn't take the ship too long to get there. Not as fast as a non-damaged ship, but quickly never the less. "There is a team waiting for us. I'd stick around and do most of it myself, but I will be expected at the Academy later."

Varro gave a nod, "Then let us away...I mean let us go." He started the ship and they began their ascent.

To be Continued...

OFF:

--

Lieutenant (JG) Grayson Jones
Engineer
Earth

&

Ambassador Soral Varro
Diplomat
Earth

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