Getting your hands dirty

Posted on Sun Apr 21st, 2019 @ 11:20pm by Ensign Briaar Gavarus & Ensign Fiona O'Dell

Mission: Detours
Location: Upper FLight Deck, Deck 3
Timeline: 2396

On the Upper Flight Deck of Deck three, Ensign Briaar Gavarus found herself lying on her back on an anti-grav work platform, hovering a meter below the open undercarriage of the experimental Variable Mode Flight Mech known among the R&D crew as the 'Thunderchicken'.

The brainchild of Ensign Mona Gonadie, Commander Rita Paris and Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox, the Thunderchicken stood it what was called 'gerwalk' mode. The cockpit of the modified Romulan Scorpion was horizontal, but the wings and landing struts were in their converted modes of semi-humanoid arms and legs. A couple of days earlier, the R&D team used the Flight Departments simulators to put a holographic replica of the real Thunderchicken through an extensive series of intense stress tests along with a test of an experimental neural interface link that allowed it's test pilot, the diminutive Mariposian red-head, Ensign Fiona "Leprechaun" O'Dell, to control the mech with her mind.

The test revealed a multitude of problems that would need to be addressed in the Thunderchicken itself, and pushed O'Dell almost past the limits of her own stamina. As such, O'Dell had spent the morning working out to increase her stamina to make flying the rig easier over time. And now, the two were hard at work updating the Thunderchicken, starting with the adjustment of a new cross-variable internal shield buffering system designed to use shaped force fields to reinforce poly-mimetic gell shock absorbers in the joints of the mechs limbs.

"Oh, what fresh hell is this?! The existing wiring for the power converters is using a modified surge protector that apparently isn't compatible with the new buffer system." Gavarus grumbled, laying on her back to her tiny partner-in-crime sitting to the side by the mechs feet near the workbench.

"Fee... I need that damn circuit splitter again. Goddamn, frickin' outmoded circuitry. I think I need to gut this whole damn thing and rewire it if this doesn't work."

“I dinna think Chief Gonadie would object. Apparently the only thing she was willing ta work with was the hull, and she tore out joost aboot everything else, so if that’s yuir call, I’m pretty sure she’ll back it,” O’Dell chirped as she fetched the splitter in question, then knelt patiently beside the mech until the engineer’s large three-fingered hand extended for the tool, in which case, like a surgical nurse, the tiny test pilot slapped it into the engineer’s palm, ready for use.

“I was serious about those mimetic panels, too. Ye think we might be able to engineer ‘em withoot changing too many of the basic shapes and ruinin’ her atmospheric aerodynamics?” While she was no engineer by a long chalk, O’Dell had been invited to participate in the development of the craft, and had grown comfortable offering her input, particularly with Gavarus, who was never dismissive of her ideas.

"Absolutely. I've run a few aerodynamic sims with three different materials that have the properties you proposed and the numbers look great. It's in my proposal and Gonadie seems excited." Gavarus replied fairly straightforward. Her usual sarcasm was conspicuously absent when her head was in her work.

At least when it came to working with O'Dell, whom Briaar thought had a natural head for engineering. Something that made her the perfect test pilot, in the gruff Tellarite's estimation. The pair ragged on each other all the time, but O'Dell was smart and intuitive and Gavarus had no qualms letting anyone who didnt see that know it in no uncertain terms.

"Yessss... that worked." Gavarus raised a tricorder to the connection. "Yeah. Powerflow is back to optimal levels and holding."

Pressing a button on the side of the hovering platform caused it to lower to the ground as Gavarus stood back up with a slight groan. The porcine engineer was every bit of two meters tall with a prodigious belly characteristic of the race and getting up off the floor always came with a mild protest.

“Ye need help gittin up, old lady?” O’Dell teased as she herself pulled herself up using one of the mech’s legs. After having pushed herself for her first day in the gym, she was stiff and sore. But she was not given to complaining, and she knew poking at her would only inspire Gavarus to snark back, which was part of the fun of their friendship.

"Not old. Fat. There's a difference." Gavarus replied back with a smirk as she walked over to the workbench to pick up her PaDD. "So, get back to me after your first pull up."

"Now... Let's start pulling her apart and reinforcing those joints." Gavarus smilled as broadly as her thick jowls allowed.
“Joost ye wait, soon I’ll be bench pressin you!” O’Dell shot back, which was a ridiculous boast and they both knew it. The pipe cleaner arms of the puny pilot couldn’t even manage her own weight, forget about that of her porcine partner, who easily outweighed her by three times.

“So what do we do first? Start popping off the external panels? Is there a tool for that, or… how kin I help?” While she wouldn’t admit weakness to a fault, Fiona O’Dell had no compunctions admitting what she didn’t know. But she was quite willing to learn, and eager to help. When she was in the cockpit, Gavarus had her back. On the flight deck, redesigning the amazing vehicle, the Starfleet sprite was ready and willing, and prepared to be directed.

Stepping back behind the yellow safety lines on the floor, Gavarus motioned for Fiona to follow, which the petite pilot obliged- safety first, after all. Once there, she hit a few buttons on her PaDD and a loud clang could be heard as panels in the ceiling overhead opened up. "This is actually pretty freakin' cool. Watch."

Gavarus raised her eyebrows a few.times at O'Dell as a massive mechanical crane lowered from the ceiling. At the end, a four pronged gripping claw opened up and slowly and delicately wrapped securely around the body of the craft. As it locked in place, Gavarus hit a few more buttons and the arm retracted a few inches, effortlessly lifting the Thunderchicken's feel just off the deck.

"There are forcefield for this stuff, but we're both going to be under there taking those feet off. This increases my sense of not getting smeared into bacon grease. What about you?"

“Are ye kiddin? I hafta watch not to get sat on in the mess hall. O’course I’m more glad to have that great beastie strung up by mechanicals if we’re g’win ta be under it!” O’Dell squeaked. At a meter and a half tall, she was both petite and puny, weighing in at not quite 41kg. Everyone was bigger than her, and her slight frame rendered her not only a physical weakling, but delicate as well, easily prone to injury. However, she was quick, nimble and possessed of a manual dexterity and reflexes that were second to none, which made her a formidable pilot.

Additionally, her ‘little person’ syndrome naturally lent itself to piloting the humanoid mech, as it functioned as an extension of her diminutive form, granting her a stature and strength that she found thrilling. Today was remodeling and refurbishing, as the tests had produced actionable data, so in truth she was excited to participate. If nothing else, her smaller and more delicate hands were better suited for fine detail work, although it was seldom that he compatriot asked for such help from her.

Today, however, she was here to help in whatever capacity she could, and thus she bounced on her heels as she contemplated the great mech.

“So why’re we takin off her feet, Gavarus? Are we modifin’ those thrusters the chief put in her, changing up the linkages for more flexibility or do we hafta get at other systems through m’girl’s big chicken feet?”

Opening up the large side panel on the rolling tool rack that was the.size.of a mid sized dresser, Gavarus pulled out a series of thick disks. Telescoping durasteel disks about two inches thick with a brown gel in the center, they almost looked like a robot hamburger. "We're putting on new shocks, Fee."

Gavarus was almost uncharacteristically excited as she pulled the card between the two massive feet and began laying out a series of tools from the kit in pairs, one set laid out in front of each foot. "These suckers are our polymorphic nano-gel impact absobtion units to replace the.existing shock absorbers in the ankle joints."

"These link with that power regulator and have micro force field generators that will operate off of the ships computer to form the gel with every step for maximum impact protection. I designed these myself based on what we were talking about when I almost threw up on Jablonski." Gavarus said as she sat down on the deck in front of the left foot.

"With these suckers, you can go full full on Riverdance in the Thunderchicken."

As Gavarus sat down, O’Dell stood but leaned over a bit, which kept them at the same relative eye level. “Aye, Ah thought ye mighta mentioned something like that! Better shocks will definitely make it better for her when Ah’m bootin’ aboot them corners. This is exciting!” Handing a screwdriver gun to the engineerO’Dell watched intently, looking for where she could be helpful.

“S’pose the SIF generators are just a necessity, because otherwise she’d bee all hydraulics an’ too heavy, aye?” O’Dell asked, curious about the systems as always. “We’re keepin her lightweight, which works alreet fuir me, but Ah do worry a little bit aboot what might happen if the shields fail…”

"Not to worry. The pads are still fully rated without the shielding adaptation. This will actually increase effectiveness by up to 5 percent." Gavarus bragged with a smirk. Then she looked over at the pint sized pilot.

"What are you... No, come over to the other foot. We're double teaming this sucker." The tall Tellarite thumbed over to the right foot. "Time to get greasy, Leprechaun."

“Ain’t you the charmer. Izzat yuir come-on line, or what ye say once the candles are lit?” O’Dell snickered as she did as she was told and moved into position opposite Gavarus, standing beneath the suspended mech. “Alreet, whatta ye want me ta do?”

Scoffing, Gavarus replied with laugh. "You've seen my come on line. It ends in vomit."

Picking up the magnetic decoupling wrench, Gavarus leaned over the large cuff that covered the ankle of the mechs foot. "Okay, there are six points this is connected to the actual joint. We take the end of the wrench, and when you run the tool over the attachment point, the light on the handle will turn green. Three, counterclockwise turns will unlock the coupling. Once all six are disconnected, the casing will be free."

Then the porcine engineer showed the pint sized pilot how to uncouple the ankle casing. "Got it?"

“Aye!” the petite pixie responded enthusiastically, as she picked up the wrench with a slight grunt and went to work as indicated, seeking the points where the sensor turned green. Turning the wrench very carefully until she had turned it 1080 degrees, she then moved on to the next one. Brow furrowed, eyes squinted, it was clear that she was concentrating on what she was doing, which made her slow with the work, being extra careful and delicate.

Gavarus had finished entirely with her side as O’Dell was only on the third bolt, but she did not hurry to catch up. Taking her time, the eager ensign worked carefully and methodically, a far cry from the freewheeling and intuitive manner in which she piloted and did seemingly everything else. Engineers didn’t usually trust pilots with a wrench, so she was determined to do it right, which meant slow but sure for such a thing in her book.

For her part, Gavarus was watching out of the corner of her eye with a grin. "Half these revisions were your ideas, and Gonadie knows it. So you know how to think like an engineer. But you need to know how to work the tools in case something breaks, when I'm monitoring for someplace else."

"Most of this is basic, changing a tire crap that for some reason Starfleet doesn't teach it's pilots. So to hell with that." In saying so, the usually grumpy engineer laid her cards out a little. She was worried and wanted to make sure her friend could fix basic problems in an emergency.

"Ach, an experimental aircraft liable to be deployed into combat situations all held together by forcefields? What cuild possibly go wrong?" O'Dell chimed ans she turned the wrench. Her arms were already stiff and sore from the morning's exertions in the gym, and her legs are none too happy either. Grin and bear it, ye lazy bum. Outta flight school a couple'a years and canna even do a pull up or a chin oop. Aye, it hurts, and t'will hurt more, but yuir gonna get in shape little lassie.

"Okie, so do Ah take this plate oaf now that I've got it unscrewed?" If it was a class on how it all worked, Fiona was in. Being able to help work on the spacecraft was a treat for her, and Gavarus was a patient teacher. Said I think like an engineer. "Ye know, it dawns on me- the way ye think of this, it's like anatomy. Trying ta make the parts work together while they move certain ways?"

"It's exactly like anatomy. It's just way easier to replace parts." Gavarus smirked. "And it's not 'held together with forcefields'. The forcefields are all reinforcement. Enhancements on top of a very solid machine. Yeesh."

As she said it, she put he hands on the sides of the conical metal sleeve. "Okay, hold it like this. Lift up and towards the ankle until you feel it slide off the bolt tracks. Then just place it to the side."

She showed O'Dell slowly. "It's strong as hell, but extremely light weight. It's made with a flexing durasteel mesh. Even your tiny ass shouldn't have a problem lifting it."

Lifting it as she'd been shown, the sleeve budged a few millimeters, but it didn't slide off. Readjusting her grip and putting a bit more determination behind it, Fiona's arms ached and cried, but she grunted to push through it. Which was fine, but it wasn't really moving. Furrowing her brow at it, she mimed the action to take it off to Briaar, who nodded slowly with a half-smile. Shaking her head and rolling up her sleeves, O'Dell moved in on the outer skin of the Thunderchicken's foot with determination. With both hands the midget Mariposian gripped the part surely then yanked up, only to have it come free easily. Which threw her off-balance, which in turn gave her somewhat shaky legs an excuse to give out underneath her and dump her on the deck on her tiny bony ass.

Trying to stifle a laugh and failing miserably, Gavarus let out a snort as she got up to help Fiona. "Damn, really? You went full boneless on me there, Leprechaun. C'mere."

"It's harder than it looks!" O'Dell protested, rubbing her bony backside. "So's the deck..."

Taking the removed part and setting it aside, the towering Tellarite helped pull the embarrassed ensign to her feet. "Okay, soooo... Mag-gravs from here on."

Pulling a set of two white handles with thumb buttons and round pads in front from the tool cart, she held one of the handles, pressed the pad to the metal machine part and pressed the thumb button. There was an audible clank sound and Gavarus lifted the discarded part as though it were weightless. "Unless the actual clamp grips are too much for you, these will come in handy for the rest of the feet, which are we, way heavier."

Releasing the thumb trigger and setting down the part, she handed the clamps to O'Dell and grabbed two of her own. "Give them a try."

Taking the pair of clamps and pressing the buttons experimentally, O'Dell reached for the recently abandoned part, engaged the clamps, then easily lifted it, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh aye, these go in the repair kit we build in, right? Because these are the dog's bollocks, they are!"

"Oh, hell yes. They're essential. Especially in the field. They will enable you to safely move up to almost 400 kilograms in an emergency situation. And most of the rest of the foot will be closer to that range once we take it apart. So let's get this done." Gavarus had a legitimate smile on her face. There's nothing she loved more than taking things apart and fixing them. In a universe of uncertainty and chaos, she had her hands and her mind to force things to work right

And today, she had her best friend chomping at the bit to learn how to do it too, which left the normally grouchy Tellarite feeling remarkably good as the two dug into it.

It was a slow, step by step process as Briaar Gavarus took the landing assembly of the Thunderchicken apart, bolt by bolt. With each move, she showed and explained it to the tiny Titan who absorbed it all like a ravenous sponge. O'Dell was smart. Seriously smarter than she gave herself credit for as she picked up techniques like a fourth year cadet.

Among the members of the Hera's new R&D team, Gavarus had felt like the most replaceable. An irritable, difficult to work with engineer that only ended up in the Flight department because it's chief liked to tinker with the runabouts and the Chief Engineer was tired of cleaning up her messes. It was the job nobody wanted in engineering, so it went to the engineer nobody wanted to work with.

But here was little Fiona O'Dell, taking apart an experimental robotic foot joint for the fist time and reassembling it piece by piece, listening to every word Gavarus said. O'Dell cared, and Gavarus didn't quite know why but she was glad she did. She really liked the irritating little red head, and was beyond glad nobody else in engineering wanted the job of fixing what Lieutenant Dox had tinkered with.

After a few hours, both women were covered in grease and hydraulics fluids, exhausted from the effort and more than a little hungry but as they tightened the bolts on the ankle coverings, the job was done.

"Frickin' A, Fee. That's goddamn perfect." Gavarus commented.

"That was soooo neat! It's like a puzzle, nae joost how the parts goo tagether, but how ye have to sequence the whole kaboodle ta make it happen. That was dead brilliant, Briaar! Thank ye! Me brothers never let me tinker less they lost a tool in the engine and they needed me ta fetch it wi' me tiny mitts. They should teach more mechanics to the pilots. Now when Ah envision what me foot is doin', Ah kin also picture what the chicken's doin', cause Ah know how it all goes together. S'bluiddy fantastic!" O'Dell had been running to the replicator for energy drinks, and dirty and worn-out as she was, she still had manic energy as she grinned from ear to ear and bopped about radiating glee.

"Yes! Shower! Uniforms! Lunch!" O'Dell grabbed at gavarus' large hand that was the size of her head and tugged insistently. "M'sa hungry I could eat a hippo! C'mon, Chief Gonadie even got us showers oop here! Well, decon showers, but still."

Laughing at O'Dell's attempts to pull her along, Gavarus relented and started off behind the miniature Maraposian. "Fine..." She snorted out a laugh. "I could definitely eat."

Passing the replicator outside the showers, Gavarus ordered up two spare uniforms for the women as the stepped in. As they were alone, the porcine engineer simply tossed the fresh uniforms in the small bench and began pulling off her greasy clothes without a care. Having grown up with nine sisters and seven brothers meant that the lack of privacy growing up had left Gavarus with a bit fewer reservations about stripping naked to in front of her newfound friend that she felt remarkably comfortable around.

As for O'Dell, she too, covered in grease and various fluids, also stripped down, though she was a bit shyer about it. Cautiously removing her uniform with her back to her porcine pal, the skinny, flat-chested runt took off her undershirt and undies- Gavarus clearly wasn't shy, and while her figure, or lack thereof, had been a source of mocking and ridicule for her for most of her adult life, the towering Tellarite didn't seem to particularly notice. There were no wisecracks, no mocking- it was the same as if they had still been in uniform to her as she sneezed, snorted then got into the shower.

Encouraged, the underdeveloped ensign climbed into the shower too, her exuberance a bit dampened but once the sonics started, she relaxed. Which of course meant she started talking. "I dinna know we actually still used real grease fuir movin parts! Woulda thought it was a silicon based mimetic gel or soomething by noow."

"I don't like the modern, silicone replacements as much. Maybe I'm a little old school about it, but for me a high quality grease just still works better in a clinch." Gavarus was never more comfortable then when she was talking shop, but she was also picking up on Fiona's body issues. Her's were different, but she recognized all the cues and so she kept the conversation no different that it would be if they were dressed.

But the shower felt really good as she leaned back and spread her arms and legs out wide an moaned in an exaggerated, humorous fashion. "Oh, this is the shit."

"It does feel good... I dinna realize Ah needed this quite s'mooch." Shaking out the great shaggy mane of bright red curls from the ponytail, Fiona scrubbed her scalp with her clean hands, pushing up the volume a bit on the mass of unruly hair she maintained. She was still moving a little stiffly as she did a few stretches in the shower, but there were no jokes, so she relaxed and enjoyed the soothing pulse of the sonics on her sore strained muscles. "After lunch, kin we work on the engine? I'd like to see how ye manually input the coordinates, in case I ivvir get stuck like that withoot you along to bail me out, aye?"

" Yeah. I need to recalibrate it anyway to sync it with the power couplings for the new shocks. And I can show you how to hard wire coordinates even if the controls are dead from behind the panel. A little something I rigged after our party atire n the asteroids. Since you can frickin'navigate by goddamn visual cues, it should be easy."

Finished, Gavarus shut her shower down and finished up. Feeling clean, she began tossing her freshly replicated new uniform on.

“It’s nae s’hard s’long as ye know the distance between stars, joost the math is tough. And ye canna do it wi’ any accuracy within a system, because of planetary rotations and stoof the computer usually keeps track of and the scanners update real-time. Withoot alla the data, just astrogatin by the stars isn’t s’hard- coming outta warp and not bein’ in immediate troobul, that’s the hard part.” Still a little shy, Fiona stepped out of the shower and dressed quickly, clearly more relaxed when covered up.

As a grown woman who hadn’t quite made it to ‘grown’, she was terribly self-conscious. But with Gavarus being so cavalier about her own nudity and not picking on O’Dell at all about her body or even particularly noticing, it emboldened her enough to relax a little with her bestie. As misfits, the two understood one another on a primal level. While they still traded jabs and jokes, underneath it there was an unspoken acceptance of one another that had made them fast friends.

"Well, you did and you were effed up at the time, so take the frickin' compliment." Gavarus snorted out a sarcastic laugh. "Okay, let's take this show on the road, I'm starving."

“Oh aye, ‘twas still a feat I’ll brag aboot to me nieces an’ nephews soomday, make no mistake,” Fiona grinned broadly. “So ye want to inflict ourselves on the galley or joost grab a replicated bite here? M’tryin ta be a good vegetarian boot I could murder a cheeseburger an’ fries!”

"Eat whatever you want, it doesn't bother me. It's all replicated matter. I just literally can't process meat well. My stomach's were just designed for veggies." Gavarus scoffed. "And I'm fine eatingin the break room here. Saves us the aggravation of dealing with any actual people.”

“Ach, well, it bothers me. I work with a pig and a bird… s’hard ta look at bacon and chicken the same way afterward. But at least Ah kin still eat lamb and goat and beef unless the R&D team gets a whole lot more diverse,” O’Dell clarified. “”But Ah think it’s important we mingle wi’ the crew. After all, we’re R&D! We got our own department and we’re a test pilot and an experimental flight engineer. We’re hot shite noow!”

"Uggggh..." Gavarus mock-groaned in feigned indignation. "Fine, we can go be seen and... I guess... interact with... people." The Tall Tellarite rolled her eyes. "Mingling. Ugh." she added with an exaggerated shudder.

“Ahhh, c’mon, ye great sociopath. Mebbe someone will pick a fight with us and we’ll get ye kin have a nice argument for dessert!”