"Chief? What the hell am I looking at?"
Quentin Mitchell stared at the pile of burned circuitry and conduit that hung limply from the access panel. It resembled something closer to modern art than the sub-space field regulation processors that it used to be less than 20 minutes ago. Faint whiffs of acrid smoke were still floating off the exposed power leads, despite having active power removed from this entire sub-section.
A set of footsteps echoed behind Mitchell in the large Main Engineering center of the USS Artemis. The footsteps shuffled up behind him and came to a stop.
"Pretty, isn't it?" said the owner of the footsteps. The man was short, standing only 5 and a half feet in height, with graying black hair that had been shaved close to the scalp. The human wore a Starfleet uniform, just as Mitchell did; the rank pips of a Master Chief Petty Officer were clearly visible on his gold collar.
Mitchell glanced at the Chief with a look that could have cracked dilithium. "I don't need an aesthetics assessment, Mr. Ramone."
Vincent Ramone shrugged a little and poked at the mess of cables with the blunt end of the hyperspanner he had been holding. The Master Chief had been serving in Starfleet for 15 years, and had long ago learned to ignore the wrath of superior officers. All that mattered to him was the abilities of the person behind the red shirt and gold pips... which is why he liked Quentin Mitchell as much as he did, and why he was comfortable enough around his Acting Commanding Officer to be flippant, even in the face of this mess.
"You're looking at four hours repair time, and no warp drive at all," Ramone said, finally answering Mitchell's original question. "Even when we get this crap replaced, I'll only be able to give you warp 2 until I can get the system regulated properly. That means dropping in and out of warp for adjustments."
Mitchell sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. "Great... just great. What happened anyway?"
Ramone shrugged again. As the man that knew more about the Artemis' systems, and Akyazi Class ships for that matter, than anyone else serving in the fleet, he often seemed be lacking in answers. It was a ruse, of course. "The usual happened sir. We've been repairing from battle damage for days now, but the ship's old. 50 years of service will do this to systems."
Quentin rolled his eyes and looked up towards whatever capricious gods were laughing at him right now. "God I hate this ship."
"Yeah... sure you do," Ramone said with a knowing smirk. He turned away from his Acting Captain and walked back to the Chief Engineer's office, a small alcove on the starboard side of the engineering room. The alcove was littered with PADDs and tools, among others things... it had been that way since Ramone had been made Chief Engineer eight months ago.
Mitchell turned and watched Ramone, then followed him into the office. "What is there to love about her? She's an old ship with old systems. She's in desperate need of a major systems overhaul, and we're working double time just to keep her together long enough to make it home. If it hadn't been for all this garbage with the Mullurans she would have been mothballed a year ago."
The Master Chief kept his peace and instead set about the work at hand. He sat down in his chair, working the console before him with ease, as Mitchell paced around the small alcove and continued to vent.
"She's beaten up, old, creaky, and understaffed. We're lucky that we have breathable air that's freshly circulated on a daily basis, and don't even get me started on the waste reclamation systems..."
"Ah, but..." Ramone interrupted with a raised finger, "she has style."
Mitchell paused and smirked. He rested his hands on Ramone's console and leaned his weight on them. "Yeah, she does have that..." He glanced around the engineering section before focusing again on the problem at hand. "So we have no warp drive at all?"
"We could probably form a warp bubble," Ramone answered. "But without a sub-space field regulator to control it, we'll end up falling into a temporal rift or shifting into an alternate dimension..."
Mitchell snorted. "An alternate dimension doesn't sound all that bad right now." He paused and once again looked about at the engineering section. Despite his protestations to the contrary he had a strong affection for this old bucket of a starship. It showed in his eyes...
Vincent Ramone could see it too... after all, he shared it. The Chief followed his CO's cue and paused to look around engineering. "What do you think will happen to her when we get back to Earth sir?"
"Most likely... she'll be decommissioned and processed for spare parts and reusable materials." Mitchell said it matter-of-factly, the realist in him refusing to allow for vague hopes.
"That's a shame," Ramone said. "There are only a few Akyazi Class ships left in the service."
"And I can see why..." Mitchell took a deep breath and pushed himself of the console. "Alright Chief, pour everything you have into the impulse engines. Let me know as soon as we have warp drive back in operation. I'll see if I can't arrange a stop over at one of the Starbases between here and Earth for temporary repairs. Maybe Starbase 204 or Deep Space Nine. She just has to last long enough to get us home."
"Oh! DS-9 would work. I know this bar there..."
Mitchell waved off the story before it got rolling. "I'll see what I can do." He tossed over his shoulder as he left engineering through on of the two large access hatches.
The engineering section of the Artemis was suspended behind the bulk of the starship, connected by two umbilical corridors that served as the only access to the pod and the warp core. Mitchell walked down the length of the corridor, all the while wondering what the hell Starfleet Design had been thinking when they dreamed up this Class of starship. In the two years since he had first transferred onboard the Artemis he had wondered why an enemy had never targeted the Pod and severed it from the rest of the ship.
Just as Mitchell passed the hatch access into the main saucer section of the ship, his commbadge chirped.
[Bridge to Captain.]
Mitchell tapped the badge to reply -- as with much of the Artemis systems, modern comm access was lacking in parts of the ship. Commbadges served where ambient audio pick-ups didn't exist. "Go ahead."
[Mitch, you're needed on the bridge. We have an incoming data packet from Starfleet Logistics.]
"On my way." Without hesitation Mitchell turned left down one of the cross corridors and into a waiting turbolift. He called the bridge as his destination and had barely enough time to consider the data packet before arriving. The benefit of serving on a small starship was rapid travel between locations on board.
The 'lift doors hissed open to reveal a small, round bridge of decidedly antique design. There was a single command chair in the middle of a sunken central area, directly aft of the large helm station. Mitchell remembered the day when engineering had come up here and replaced the old dual console setup with the single helm interface console they currently used. The rest of the bridge was ringed with consoles and monitoring systems, all of them displaying the old "Blue Screen" operating system that had been imprinted on starship computer cores up until 20 years ago. As he had said before, the Artemis was in dire need of upgrades...
Near the back of the bridge, to the port, was the tactical console. It was here where Mitchell had originally served, as the Artemis' Chief Tactical Officer under Captain Marcus Thorne. It was only a year later that he would be forced to take command after the death of Captain Thorne in an engagement with Mulluran patrols.
Currently in the tactical seat was Mitchell's acting First Officer and the Artemis' Chief Tactical Officer, Lt. Commander Michael Webb. Webb looked up from his console as the 'lift doors hissed opened.
"We've just finished the packet download Mitch." Webb said. He stood up from his chair and offered Mitchell a PADD with which to interface with the data archiving system. "Do you think these are our new orders?"
"What else could they be?" Mitchell answered as he began to tap in his access codes into the PADD. The display on the small device changed as the codes were accessed and confirmed. The data package opened to reveal the orders within.
Michael Webb sighed and glanced around the bridge wistfully. "Well, I for one am going to miss this old ship. She's seen us through a lot. Combat with the Mullurans, pirate raids, and even a little good old-fashioned exploration. If Starfleet would only sink some time and effort into upgrading her systems she could..."
Webb paused as he glanced over at Mitchell. Quentin's expression had turned to one of surprise and shock. He stood there scrolling up and down the data file, re-reading the contents several times. "Mitch? Are you okay?"
Mitchell blinked and looked at Webb silently for several seconds before speaking. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine. I've been promoted."
"Really?" Webb answered with a grin and a pat on Mitchell's shoulder. "Congratulations! You deserve it considering you've been in command of this ship unofficially for a year now. Is there any word of where you'll be assigned to next?"
Again there was a pause as Mitchell stared at his friend in silence. "Yeah," he said finally. "I've been given my own command."
Mitchell's overwhelming shock was starting to rub off on Webb. Michael was beginning to suspect something was quite wrong with all of this. With a carefully measured tone, he asked "On what ship?"
"This one," Mitchell answered simply. "I've been given command of the Artemis, and we've been assigned to an active duty posting."
By this point everyone on the bridge had his or her attention focused on the conversation. The sound properties of a starship bridge were exceptional, and everyone heard the new equally well. There were a number of mixed expressions, from surprise to amusement. They were all thinking the same thing; that this old starship with its creaky deck plating and temperamental systems shouldn't be in service. That it was in dire need of upgrades and overhauls, or new crewmembers and a fresh coat of paint...
And without exception, each of the bridge crew smiled at the thought of taking the old girl back into active duty.
Webb folded his hands behind his back and grinned at his Commanding Officer -- his official CO now. "Orders, Captain?"
Mitchell took a deep breath and nodded. "Mr. Webb, once we have warp power online again, set course to the Serenity system at best possible speed."
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