Jump Around

Posted on Wed Apr 17th, 2019 @ 4:04pm by Ensign Briaar Gavarus & Lieutenant Mona Gonadie & Ensign Fiona O'Dell & Ensign John Carrott

Mission: Detours
Location: USS Hera, Deck 3, R&D Department
Timeline: 2396

Continued from 'Just to the Left of the Right Stuff.'

As the streets cleared of civilians, while the mech and monsters took the field, Ensign Fiona O’Dell could see a great horned minotaur at the end of the alley, who promptly started charging toward her position. Moving her arm to make the mech’s arm level the rifle, O'Dell selected hollow points, as the target didn't appear armored, and fired a semi-automatic burst down the alley. Which she followed by another and another as she took the measure of the Minotaur.

With the size difference and the rifle being slightly scaled up for the Thunderchicken, the hollow point rounds found their target and turned the head of the Minotaur into a digitized censorship box as the target count cycled down to 49, while censored remains faded from the simulation.

"GREAT DAY IN THA MAARNIN! Alreety then, that's... so, controlled fire, aye." Noticing on the scanners a Minotaur was advancing on her six, O'Dell swung the rifle arm over in a 180 and fire to the rear, taking the Minotaur through the chest and eliminating him before swinging the rifle back over into the conventional position. Studying the current target, she hugged herself and stroked her chin, and the Mecha emulated her actions.

Playing back the scanning data, she established movement patterns, then asked for the computer to predict likely movement patters. Working out the probables, O'Dell manually charted a course through the opponents, using the city streets. She'd improvise going over them if need be, but not taking to the air would make her considerably less conspicuous.

With one screen open to her proposed route, and the other open to current sensor data, O'Dell started the a countdown timer to start the clock.

"Alreet, time trial, as well as a test a'me strategy. Here we goo, get ready ta make sum noise! Computer, play Fiona O'Dell fight songs playlist, track 13, in 3... 2... 1.."

A blare of trumpets announced the song, and the Thunderchicken was off and running, to the strains of 'Jump Around'. The nosecone of the walker bobbed as it ran, as within it, the moppet pilot bounced her head in time to the wild tempo of the beat of the song. "Toime ta introduce you lads to the House 'a Pain!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhzpxjuwZy0

As she skidded around a corner, O'Dell brought the rifle up and stitched off a burst, then another at a second minotaur on the same street. The gyroscope in the weapon had a harder time with the recoil of the second shot, but given that the gyros in the vehicle were what was making the computer targeting and firing accurate, O'Dell's job, to her mind, was the easy part. Running a bit up onto a wall as she cornered proved to be a bit too ambitious, and she lost stabilization and the Thunderchicken took a tumble.

The sensor data on Gavarus' PaDD lit up instantly as the Tellarite engineer's bristly facade cracked with immediate concern, "Fiona!" She yelled into the comm.

Quickly realizing her slip in protocol, Briaar course corrected, trying to look unconcerned and professional. "The... uh... Lateral torque sensors are showing multiple stress fractures. Structural integrity is down to 53% after that last impact and we've got a power loss to the rear aft gyro stabilization control."

Then she shot an angry look over to Carrot that all but screamed for an update on Fiona's vitals without saying a word.


“Vitals elevated, but holding steady to their last reading,” he said softly.

"M'alreet, joost... misjudged that turn was all... M'still on the clock... I got this..." O'Dell reported, straightening one leg to enable her to roll the walker mode over and right the craft, then picking her self up, so to speak, retrieving the oversized rifle from the debris and hustling up the street.

“Pack it up, pack it in, let me begin… I came to win, battle me that's a sin,” O’Dell murmured as she used the beat to balance her action, running the walker mode into an intersection and pivoting at the waist to fire at each of the Minotaur targets in turn, as the computer targeted them and all she had to do was authorize the burst of fire when the waist joint pivoted to face the target. As first one, two then three of them fell, the mech shifted its weight to shimmy a bit before loping on to the next target, a demolition target guarded by a quartet.

Switching to a single shot, she fired at the bell at the top of the shrine, drawing the attention of the guards around it before firing three tear gas grenades. Moving in on the demo target, she eliminated the two visible Minotaurs, as the smoke did not hinder the sensors. Hustling into the plaza, she came around the corner to fire at the third Minotaur, even as the fourth charged her.

“If you've got the feeling, jump across the ceiling,” O’Dell sang along with the ancient Irish rappers in her tinny voice. Thinking fast, O’Dell engaged the flight systems and hopped into the sky’ leaving the horn-headed brute to plow through a wall, even as she peppered him with hollow points, eliminating him as a threat. Landing quickly, she cycled her ammo to low yield plasma grenade, and ratcheting the arm back, she fired behind her as she hustled down the street toward her next target, running away from the explosion at reasonably high speed.

"Fiona..." Gavarus called on the comm, forgetting they were on duty and that first names weren't exactly professional, "Watch your speed. The right knee joint is showing stress ratings over 60%. It took some damage on that last fall and the more you run, the higher these numbers are spiking."

“Well, the chief wanted her stressed. We’ll drive her to 80% then I’ll switch over ta thrusters and we’ll see how well the chicken can skate,” O’Dell replied, although she did reduce her landspeed to reduce the strain on the joints. Field testing was one thing, but in a real situation, a pilot wouldn’t be able to get a reset on the damage. So O’Dell would press on, even as she rounded the corner to run into three of the brutes who had converged, and she chugged out a burst of automatic fire into them, the firearm kicking without her using the off-hand as a gyromount, but the trio of targets were close enough together that it didn’t matter.

As for O’Dell herself, the mech kept mimicking her activity of mopping sweat out of her eyes, as the physical exertion was pushing the little pilot harder than she had expected. Flying a runabout or shuttle was not in the least bit physically demanding. But in walker or robot mode, every step the mech took was a step she took as well, and the athletics the exuberant ensign was exercising were definitely wearing her out.

Not that she was going to complain or admit it her weakness. This was her chance, and the plucky pilot was determined not to give anyone any excuse to exclude her from the project. She’d sooner pass out from heat exhaustion, which, thinking about it, she lowered her EVA armor’s internal temperature by ten degrees to help compensate.

"Man up midget, ye've work ta do," she muttered to herself as she gripped the rifle with both hands, then ducked around a corner to launch a grenade down the street at another demolition target. As the explosion blossomed, she was already off, trotting to her next target in her perennially replotting course.

“Heart rate elevated another 15%,” Carrott said, “Adrenalin spiking, body temperature increase by 1.5 degrees. I strongly recommend we cease simulation within the next 15 minutes, or if these readings go up any more.”


Taking in the tactical overview from the sensors, O'Dell mapped out the streets between a number of the Minotaurs. As the nose cone and canopy of the mech canted off-keel to approximate the tiny test pilot tilting her head, suddenly the nosecone bobbed.

"Aye, time ta fly a kite methinks!" With that, the walker mode Thunderchicken loped off at a jog, until the mech came to a corner. Activating the thrusters on low, the itty bitty astronaut pivoted out into the road, firing a single shot to wound the Minotaur, who roared in pain. As he charged, she cut the jets and started running into the concentration of them that were now gathering, converging on her position. As she rounded a corner, she ran into two more only a dozen meters from her, that she sidestepped and ran down an alleyway to connect with another main thoroughfare. Pausing to take a pot shot at one, she pegged him with a single round, even as the one on the southeastern end of the street turned to pursue her. Running across the thoroughfare, the quartet she had bottled up in the alleyway swarmed out after her, even as the two on the street converged on her position.

"Alreet, we got six... noow let's see.... if they canna get me... a few more!" Firing a few airburst grenades as flares, the tiny terror watched the scanning data, watching the minotaurs converging on her position. "They got noo game... these lads. All cock... and bull an'... horns, but they dinna even... throw rocks."

Monitoring the feed from inside the cockpit, Gavarus was fixated not on the readings from the Thunderchicken but in what she was seeing from Fiona O'Dell. She noticed each gasping pause as her best friend tried to catch her breath. The bio readings from O'Dell's EVA suit were elevated and running higher and faster and Gavarus didn't like it.

As more and more of the minotaurs poured into the wide thoroughfare she'd chosen for her ambush ground, O'Dell began targeting the horde chasing her, although now she was having to use power-assisted hops from the jets to keep her ahead of the stampede behind her. All of which she was managing, but she was definitely loping more than running now.

"Alreet... ye clowns," O'Dell said between gulps of air. "Mama got herself a... micro-missile launcher... an' she's got a target lock... on ten of yuir pointy little heads... So guess what... that means?" Without looking back, O'Dell fired off the micromissile barrage. Ten missiles roared out from the variable fire missile pod, to swarm over her shoulders as they individually sought out one target apiece. Another barrage followed and another as the targeting computer did it's job and blasted apart two score of the marauding beasts.

As the smoke cleared, the mech's arm was leaning against a building as the other hand held it's side. Inside the mech, O'Dell was wheezing, holding a stitch in her side that had grown into a full strength cramp, and she couldn't catch her breath to wisecrack. Pointing the rifle up, she used the wall to steady her as she fired off a plasma grenade at one of the demolition targets within range. Then the Thunderchicken backed up against a wall, and sank down to a sitting position.

"Ah joos... Ah kin do et, joos.. Ah need a minute is all, mum," O'Dell gasped. "I'll get it, Ah will, Ah swear."

Having seen enough, Gavarus decided to step in. From her PaDD, with access to the Thunderchicken's inner workings, the edgy engineer began punching in instructions to the machines inner workings for a somewhat elaborate lie. "Uh... I screwed up, Ensign Gonadie. Shit! During O'Dell's last volley, I rerouted power from the hydraulics to the internal dampeners and the... Uh... the system is overheated and shut down. I'm ending the sim."

The porcine engineer knew O'Dell was pushing herself too hard and the system feedback had become too much for her, not the mech. But Gavarus wasn't going to let O'Dell hurt herself rather than give up. So she shut down the Thunderchicken herself with a bit of faked engineering incompetence on her own part.

She knew Gonadie would see right through it, but hoped the Miradonian engineer and pilot would figure out what she was doing for her friend.

All O'Dell could manage was to mutter to herself in between labored breaths, and offer a nod of acquiescence.

Carrott called to O’Dell, “Do you need assistance getting out?”

“Nae, mmm… I’ll be foine…” O’Dell managed between wheezing breaths. The mop of bright red hair was soaked with sweat, a dark stain of it coloring the front and back of her flight suit, and her hands were a bit shaky. It was abundantly clear that post exertion, the miniature Mariposian was struggling to catch her breath. It was quite obvious that despite her protestations, she wasn’t going anywhere soon as she promptly threw up her breakfast, coughing around it. “Sorree… m’okay… joost... joost need a minute...”

Carrott strode quickly on his long legs to retrieve O’Dell, careless of any fluids that might stain his uniform. Unceremoniously picking the petite pixie up, he brought her back to his med-station and handed the pilot a glass of water.

“Drink this…..slowly,” Carrott instructed, going to retrieve a hypo filled with stabilizers designed to help with post-battle fatigue.

Hands shaking, O’Dell took the glass with both hands to sip the water gratefully, taking small swallows and giving it a chance to be absorbed. While she was headstrong, stubborn and tried to be stoic, the 90-pound weakling was also not a difficult patient.

While he walked he said to the group, “This is more fatigue than exertion alone can account for. At least for the amount of time in the sim. It looks like there is a feedback loop in play from the readings I have. Meaning, O’Dell gets tired, so the Thunderchicken gets sluggish. The Thunderchicken gets sluggish, so O’Dell gets more tired. Something in the neural feedback that we need to look at, it creates a vicious cycle.”

His tone was concerned, and creases across the brow of the tall man spoke to the level of concern he had. Carrott hated seeing anyone suffer, it's why he became a nurse, and O'Dell had clearly been pushed beyond her limits.

"Yeah, I think we have more than enough data for today. Fiona, you did an amazing job. Now we need to find that feedback... Is the system just too much strain mentally, or is it the physical exertion?" Mona was worried about her diminutive test pilot and how hard she had pushed herself, but the way she saw it, the sooner she got the bugs worked out of this system, the better off things would be. She knew Fiona would keep pushing herself farther and farther - she was a pilot, after all, and one with something to prove. But at the point Briaar had intervened, Mona was about to as well. "Be sure to hydrate well, ok? And no alcohol."

“No alcohol!?!” the pipsqueak pilot squealed, then quailed a bit when she saw Carrott’s face. “Alreet, alreet, no alcohol… I dinna ken, mum. I don’t usually run around like that as mooch as I did today, but… it was like I couldnae catch me breath after a certain point, and it was… I’ve nivvir been s’wasted in me life, Chief.” The little leprechaun sat back and mopped the still-dripping mop of hair out of her face. “Might be what Mr. Carrot was sayin'… that was…. whew, it was soomethin, ma’am.”

Leaning in slightly, Ensign Gavarus was trying to keep her anxiety over O'Dell contained which made the towering Tellarite a bit more manic than usual. "Ensign Gonadie, I have all the data from the EVA suit and the biofeedback data from the neural connectors. If I can get Carrot's data, I can put together an algorithm to check for correlation points to prepare a report. But according to a very basic look over, it looks like we might need to create... essentially... a neural firewall. I think I can put together a basic proposal once I have all the data. Also, perhaps we can split the neural load by leaving some processes to manual controls. Say, firing controls, which would free up neural pathways to reduce the data feedback load and..."

Looking at the expressions around her, Gavarus cut herself off mid-sentence with an exasperated expression on her porcine face, "Uh... what? Am I? So, I'm rambling. Okay. I'm rambling, but it's all going in my notes. Okay, I'll stop talking now."

"No, please..." Mona stood and reached up, barely able to place one hand on the Tellarite's shoulder. "This is the very reason why I wanted you on this team. I asked for you to be the maintenance person to look after the Cyclones to see how you did and the data in your reports did not disappoint. You're a gifted engineer and just the assistant I need. You also care for others."

Taking a moment to check O’Dell’s vitals, Carrott said thoughtfully, “Free up neural pathways….maybe a neural stint built into the receptors…..or meditation techniques to establish a bioelectric pathway accustomed to the interface…..”

Then, as if realizing he was speaking aloud, “Um, sorry. Readings, um, yes. I’ll get those right over to you Ensign Gavarus.”

"Aye, I'm likin this, how this all works. I'm the lab rat and alla ye figure oot how ta fix it. That's dead brilliant it is. R&D, thee and me!" O'Dell grinned at the assembled team, all working together to solve the problems they'd encountered.

The brightly plumed Miradonian then leaned in closer, lowering her voice so that hopefully only Briaar could hear her. "As for Fiona, she reminds me of myself and isn't the idiot that the other pilots in the department are. She's also small enough to be able to fully utilize the system in the test phase and has a mental strength that I think rivals that of the Captain. I think you're right about the neural firewall, and the manual controls though."

Mona sighed and relaxed her arm, letting it drop. She then pulled up the full brain activity scans during the test, which showed double and sometimes triple normal activity. "The system is literally moving two bodies as it's set up right now and being used. She's literally using several times as much brain power as she's used to just to move the Thunderchicken around. From what I've heard, Carrott is quite good with grey matter, so with his help, we should be able to reduce that quite a bit... But as it is, this will be the last combat test for a while. At least until a few more kinks are worked out."

Blushing the same shade as his hair, Carrott said, "Thank you, ma'am. I will do my best. And next time should be easier in any event. Now that we know the issue, we don't need to test the limits quite as hard, right? Until we know how things are going?"

"Exactly. This stressful of a test was only necessary for a full calibration of the limits of... Well... Everything and everyone..." Mona then moved over to O'Dell and placed a hand on her shoulder next. "I'm sorry for pushing you so hard. Thank you for your hard work. I owe you a drink later when you're feeling up to it. Maybe some Romulan ale? I've got a few nice bottles."

“Ye dinna poosh me too hard, mum! I kin do et! I’m okay now, if we need another goo!” It was abundantly clear that the tiny test pilot was far from ready for another round, but she was already trying to scoot off the med station gurney and stand. It was readily apparent to everyone that O’Dell was terrified that if she didn’t measure up, she would be easily replaced with someone with more stamina. Already she struggled against Gonadie’s hand on her shoulder, which was having no trouble keeping her pinned to the gurney.

The Chief just kept her on the gurney and shook her head. "You've already done more than anyone else could have, Sledgehammer. Even me. When I tried it, I threw up less than three minutes in. You lasted just over ten minutes and are asking for more and I guarantee none of the other pilots on this ship could get that system to move, let alone come close to matching you. Let's at least wait until tomorrow, ok? Give us some time to weed through the data and see if we can make it any easier on you first." Mona left out the part that she had refined the system a bit between the version she tried and the one Fiona had worn today. She was trying to build the woman up and every bit of confidence helped. Besides, even if there were another pilot aboard that could hope to match her, they needed reliable test data and that meant sticking with the same pilot.

“Aye, ma’am,” the nervous navigator responded, relaxing a bit. Ensign Gonadie didn’t sound like she was looking for someone bigger and stronger and better suited, so she’d swallow her worries and trust in what her chief told her.

Leaning in slightly, Gavarus whispered to Gonadie in her trademark, remarkably loud whispering voice. "She hates that nickname. Stick with 'Leprechaun.'"

Then piping up loudly, with a broad smirk, Gavarus followed up, "Besides, I need a LITTLE damn time to FIX the Chicken. You kicked the thunder out of it!"

“Ah, she’s a simulated chicken, so easy fix, aye, ye lazy bones? But ye did get lots of stress readings, I’ll bet!” Just like that, the petite pilot was enthusiastic, reassured that she wasn’t fired for throwing up on her shoes and practically passing out.

“So, um, celebration dinner in 10-forward tonight? I hear Delacroix has something special cooked up…some kind of potato casserole or something? The wife was dying to eat some, and I know she’s like to meet you all,“ Carrott asked, casually blocking O’Dell from standing to leave by standing in front of her and peering into her eyes, tricorder whirring.

No need to tell her the tricorder wasn’t really doing all that much really, aside from forcing the miniature maniac to sit still for another moment or two.

“Well, Ah do loove a good potaayto, and I’d be happy to meet the misses. Once I’m cooled off I think I might be hungry enough to eat a horse!” As anyone who had seen the mini Mariposian eat, that was far and away the biggest exaggeration of the day, as she never finished a plate of food and seemed to exist primarily on small portions of dark beer and potato products if left to her own devices.

"Then what you need is one of my pork and potato egg wraps. I'll have to make one for you sometime." Mona then realized what she had just said and glanced up at the Tellarite standing over them. "Ah... Um... Maybe a different meat though... No pork... No chicken... How about beef? I can whip up a nice corned beef hash and use that?"

"Uh... actually. Anything without meat is good for me." Gavarus chimed in somewhat hesitantly. "I've got two stomachs and neither of them can really process meat. Well, not without the kind of distress nobody wants to follow me around afterwards."

Looking between the porcine engineer and the fowl flight systems designer, O’Dell gulped slightly and replied, “Ah, maybe it should joost be vegetarian, Chief? I’m startin ta feel a wee bit guilty about me food choices. Ye get a minotaur on this team and I’m g’win ta hafta go vegetarian!”

"Vegetarian it is then! I'll make green pepper and potato egg wraps for breakfast tomorrow for everyone. I just hope I have enough eggs left." Mona grinned as she looked around at her new crew.

This was going to work out better than she had hoped.