Gremlins

Posted on Tuesday October 13th, 2020 @ 8:52am by

Mission: The Forgotten Outpost
Location: Engineering

Lyra was calm. Lyra was collected. Lyra didn't want to be either of those things because they disrupted Lyra's carefully balanced chaotic sense of being, but for situations like this, Lyra had medication.

Lyra did not think she required it. It was suggested. By several people. Repeatedly.

The downside to traveling to a new post with people who were with you when you were on medical leave was that they knew when you were not at your best, and were accustomed to being in an environment that required other patients to help the medical staff as much as possible by calling attention to the problem.

Lieutenant Junior Grade S'vai was not among those people. Thankfully. He was sitting across from her presently in a state of bewilderment at the shift in Lyra's personality.

Ensign T'val, on the other hand, acted like absolutely nothing was wrong. And, to her, it wouldn't be. T'val was the only person present who had ever witnessed the disturbingly effective, calm, cool, and collected version of Lyra that her "rest time" meds brought forward.

T'val was the closest thing to a friend that Lyra had left, and her impressions of the staff she had met prior to this point heavily implied that wasn't changing.

"Crew quarters." S'vai noted, his antennae at attention, trying to devise the joke being played on him.

"They exist." T'val nodded.

"Except on Deck 19." Lyra added. "We covered that already. The previous staff had to use the crew quarters from deck 19 for spare materials for repairs. There's an empty chunk of hull there."

S'vai's right antenna twitched.

Lyra looked up, expectedly.

"Lieutenant Bogdonavich is not typically accustomed to asking people to come to a point, Lieutenant Junior Grade." T'val added, in what Lyra deduced as a joke, but what S'vai would undoubtedly take offense to.

Except.

S'vai couldn't voice that offense.

He voiced a lot of offense when Lyra named one of three assistant chief engineers on day one, and immediately offended everyone in her department with an ego and a rank over Ensign.

S'vai had voiced his offense at Lyra's flippant behavior. Her piloting. His restrictions to quarters when not on duty. Lyra's insistence upon placing a sticky note on his head that read Not as smart as T'val.

All of those things were things he had ethical grounds to raise concerns over.

His new immediate assistant section chief chastising him because he could not come to a point, and instead wasted their collective time, was not on that list.

"Lieutenant Bogdonavich, the crew quarters on decks 6 and 9 have fluctuating power, and the crew quarters on deck 7 does not have running water at present." S'vai said, having already grasped that he was definitely not the power component of this trifecta.

Lyra inclined her head. "Pile 4 is for the report to Mister Colonel Boss man."

S'vai placed it, and collected another PADD in silence.

The rest of the engineering division had been given orders, per Colonel Boss man, to cease all non-essential repairs, and immediately begin itemizing everything wrong.

Pile 4 was presently 2,196 PADDs deep.

"This would be much more efficient if we were permitted to begin any of these repairs." S'vai noted.

"Are you acquainted with any literature on the history or supposed art of warfare, Lieutenant?" T'val asked, in a dry tone.

"No." S'vai looked confused.

"Allow me to iterate the point being made, Not-T'val." Lyra said, without looking up from her PADD. "Generally speaking, soldiers don't question how things get done. They don't question how the mess hall prepares their food unless something is wrong with it. They don't question how the comm devices are maintained in the field until and unless they go down. They do not think in big pictures that do not involve a battlefield. The only way to explain to a soldier that these things are maintained by the specialists who have trained all their lives-" Lyra gestured to S'vai. "-or who do this work because bringing chaos to order is the only pleasure they have left in the entire universe-" Lyra gestured to T'val. "-or who is simply not trusted with actually doing her specialty, so she is instead entrusted with maintaining it because her understanding of machinery is generally unquestioned unless something is exploding-" Lyra paused to gesture to herself. "-is to make it a battlefield. Every single person with a complaint is being advised that we are on inventory of damage duty only under the Colonel's specifically worded orders. He will receive complaints." Lyra paused. "He wanted a complete inventory of what is wrong with this base."

S'vai eyed the piles of PADDs.

Lyra pointed at one pile. "3,617 individually itemized parts requisitions. Pile one. Repairs we can easily complete that are systems critical-" Lyra gestured at pile two.

"517." T'val noted. She placed her PADD on the pile. "518."

Lyra held up her PADD. "Repairs that are systems critical which we can easily, and would have already completed if I had been allowed to run my department my way-" Lyra placed the PADD on top. "1,218."

S'vai eyed pile 4. "There's gotta be 2,000 PADDs in this pile."

"2,197." T'val interjected.

"Non-critical repairs that do not currently affect the station's operation, but may do so at a later date." Lyra nodded. "Pile 5. Requisitions for station fighter squadron parts. Pile 6. Requisitions for repairs from ships in the docking section who cannot immediately be done by operations-" Lyra paused.

S'vai's eyebrows went up. "But, which we could have lent a spare repair team to assist with those repair times, were our entire department not being wasted-"

"And pile 6. Repairs for special projects like hydroponics, or holodeck repairs-" T'val began.

"-which I could not give a goblin's ass about-" Lyra added.

"-until such time that all the critical repairs are completed, but also the pile that will incur the loudest complaints, from people who want to recreate-" S'vai nodded.

"-but also don't understand that dedicating repair teams to replacing the oxygen recycling systems which are aging to the point of possibly catastrophic shutdowns-" T'val helped him along.

"In short, this is exactly the in depth, detailed report he demanded, including how much time the entire department had to waste composing it, while also including a detailed list of every single person we're pissing off by not being able to do our actual jobs." S'vai looked ever so slightly amused.

"On Earth, there are these fictional creatures called genies. I always loved the stories about genies. Genies are the epitome of the human saying If you are asking for a miracle, you should be careful what you wish for, and the exact manner in which you voice that wish." Lyra inclined her head.

"You are using the Colonel's exactly worded orders to tell him to go-" S'vai was interrupted by a gloved hand covering his mouth.

"Procreate with himself." T'val filled in. "The Lieutenant does not respond well to profanity. PTSD response to an old section chief who swore at everyone to get their way."

S'vai frowned at that.

"In short, I am, as politely and within the confines of the regulations as possible, informing the Colonel that I do not appreciate his single, simple minded shoot first attitude dictating what my department can and can't do-" Lyra paused.

The lights in engineering had gone out.

"Pile 3. 1,219. Non-emergency lighting. Engineering." T'val noted, as she withdrew several flashlights from a nearby repair kit.

S'vai laughed. "She makes jokes?"

"She intentionally says things she knows others will presume are humorous, while meaning them literally, as a method of maintaining morale of the officers around her. Don't let on. If they start thinking she's doing it on purpose, they'll expect it, and she stops finding it entertaining." Lyra noted.

"I thought the only joy in life she got was bringing chaos to order." S'vai noted, dryly.

"A crew with poor morale are just angry gremlins with a welding torch, Mister S'vai." Lyra noted.

"Maintaining morale brings chaos to chaotic order in an effective, efficient, and acceptable manner." T'val added, calmly.

The light flickered back on.

"DID ANYONE FIX THAT AGAINST THE COLONEL'S ORDERS?" Lyra shouted.

They flickered off again.

"No, ma'am. Appears to be power fluctuations to the subsystem. We're handing out headlamps." An Ensign said from the door.

T'val tool the PADD off the pile, and placed it on the non-critical repair pile.

"How many times do you think I can attribute best estimates of things that are wrong with subsystems we aren't allowed to perform repairs or in depth analysis on until this report is complete on Lyra's mystical gremlins?" T'val asked.

"I was blaming some of them on Loki, the God of mischief, and also some of them on Colonel Bishop for limiting our current repair and diagnostic tests until this was done." Lyra noted.

"I was blaming all of them on Colonel Bishop." S'vai paused.

"You'll be fine." Lyra nodded to T'val.

The lights flickered on again.

"That might actually be gremlins." Lyra said, thoughtfully.

"Perhaps." T'val inclined her head with a raised eyebrow.

"You two are insane." S'vai noted.

"We're both on medication for that." T'val paused. "Lieutenant Bogdonavich more than myself."

"I think I can live with that." S'vai held up a PADD. "Holodeck 9 will only play Klingon opera."

"Gremlins." The three said, in unison.

"Pile six." S'vai added.

----
Lieutenant Lyra Bogdonavich
Chief engineer

Ensign T'val
Provisional assistant chief engineer

Lieutenant Junior Grade S'vai
Computer systems specialist