USS STONEHENGE:EARTH SFA: Various: ("Schoolyard Pranks")

From: Katrina Browne (eishnalatrek_at_gmail.com)
Date: Thu Jul 24 2008 - 00:50:40 PDT


-=(^)=-

"Schoolyard Prank"

Con't From: "Invasion of Desperation"

-=(^)=-



Location: EARTH, SFA

Stardate: 2.80722.1737

Scene: Holodeck 3, Advanced Research Engineering School



Career refocuses happened in Starfleet fairly regularly. But they usually
revolved around adopting a red accented uniform and a shiny new pip. Blues,
mustards, greys, and blacks all seemed to morph into new commanding
officers, leading new Starfleet vessels in new challenges, using their
various skills from their former fields to augment their new command
training. Starfleet's Command School testified to the ordinariness of this
type of change.



Eishnala sh'Kor had often been an incidental black sheep. She had resisted
many conventional tides in her personal life. Her old command uniform, now
shed for that of a Federation engineer, attested to the few she resisted in
her professional career. She was not alone. Starfleet's Advanced Research
Engineering School principally provided a lab for bright young engineers to
explore advanced concepts in their discipline. Systems engineers worked on
quantum microscopy techniques, propulsion engineers played with new methods
for preventing the loss of plasma in vessel's reactor, and material
engineers converse with specialists at the San Francisco Fleet Yards. Yet, a
smaller class of students inhabited the rooms of the Cochrane Laboratory and
Montgomery Scott Engineering Annex who worked on refining long neglected
skills.



"Lieutenant Commander Kor, watch that matter stream compression rate," a
young human junior officer advised.



Eishnala nodded and her hands quickly flew over the control panel.



"I know you Sec/Tacs like a nice bang, but blowing up your vessel generally
doesn't reflect well on your fit-rep," Brian Turner said, bemused.



The Andorian repressed the urge to role her eyes. **Everybody's a
comedian,** she reflected to herself. Lieutenant (jg) Brian Turner was
enjoying ordering around a superior officer a bit too much, but then
Comodore Risan Nulchek was a notoriously difficult task master and at the
end of the day the young Lieutenant was at her beck and call. Having your
chain yanked tended to make you enjoy yank those of others, Eishnala thought
as she continued to try to balance the field harmonics on her factitious
warp core.



"That's better," Brian smiled. "We'll make an engineer out of you yet."



-=(^)=-

Scene: Replimat



Eishnala retrieved a less than tasty looking entrée from the replicator. It
was probably just her imagination, a cultural memory that no longer
reflected reality, but Academy replicators always seemed to be some of the
worst in the Federation. Her Tolcot Stew was…well if it was supposed to have
replicated meat she could not find much evidence of it.



Eishnala looked around her. A sea of cadets from the multiplicity of world's
across the federation sat at various table, knotting into different social
groups. A group of engineers worked on a problem set while shoveling food
into their mouths. A table of Vulcans discussed some philosophical concept
from their seminar. Three cadets who shared a suit laughed about who one of
them had started dating. And a table next to her filled with members of a
flight squadron, the lone male in the group mimicking some banking maneuver
he had preformed during their last practice.



The Lieutenant Commander looked for an empty table where she didn't feel so
surrounded…by the past. The Andorian woman had sat at these tables less than
a decade before and her own group of friends had coalesced. The fleet had
blown them apart like the seeds of a Risan Krilt flower by that planet's
simulated winds. Their smiles and laughs and shared stories…would only be
memories, occasionally relived during chance reunions.



A deep, gravely voice interrupted her dour musings. Dourness that was not
surprising considering she had recently been informed of the death of one of
her Academy cohorts in a skirmish with the Dominion. "Commander Kor, there
are a couple from the ARES class dining here," a Telurite named Gresh called
out.



"Thanks. Does this replimat make you feel old?" Eishnala asked Gresh.



The Telurite woman smiled. "No, but trying to run around the old track sure
did. Fur doesn't help in this summer heat, though, I guess heat in general
is unwelcome to someone from an ice moon," Gresh shrugged.



"Meh. It's not so bad. I keep my quarters at about -5 Celsius, but standard
earth temperatures can be adapted to."



"Woah," Sally Rowlands, a former ops officer said, "-5 Celsius? Have you
heard of the human phrase 'cold fish'?"



Gresh laughed heartedly. "You haven't known too many Andorians, have you
Lieutenant Rowlands? I don't think many human males would find an Andorian
woman to be a 'cold fish', even if she did her utmost to freeze him to
death. "



Eishnala suppressed the urge to roll her eyes for the second time that day.
It was funny how returning to her old stomping ground seemed to make her
regress in age a little. Andorian's were famously "passionate." It was a
stereotype developed in Federation literature from a hundred and fifty years
previous, but the idea had permeated popular imagination. Eishnala was
stubborn, but passionate was an epithet few would level at the reserved old
warrior.



"Gresh, you're not using that old David Bell novel as a guide, are you?"
Rowlands asked, referring to one of the famous novels of that earlier timer
period. "It was written by a human. I somehow doubt Mr. Bell was really able
to capture the Andorian heart."



"He spent thirty years of his diplomatic corps experience working on
Andoria. If any non-Andorian has a chance of understanding them closely it
would be Bell," Gresh argued. Eishnala smiled to her self. Her new Telurite
friend was living up to the litigious reputation of her people, a stereotype
from the same time period as the misrepresentations of Kor's people.



"It's really neither here nor there since the book was written about 170
years ago," Sally pointed out. "I'd hope there had been some changes in
seventeen decades."



"I'm pretty sure my patriarch is still convinced that Andorian society is
the same as it was back then," Eishnala rejoined the conversation. "The Kor
relies on tradition to maintain their power within the clan system. But
Lieutenant Rowlands is right. Relying on Bell is a bit like looking to
Kol'tek's study of Telurite life."



"It does tell more about the Vulcan observer than the Telurites," Gresh
conceded. She took another bite of a prickly looking fruit before asking,
"So, what do you ladies think of Lieutenant Turner?"



"He's a bit officious," Eishnala shrugged.



Sally chortled, "I was going to say that he was an uppity pain in the ass."



"Does he constantly pester you to make minor changes?" Gresh asked. Her
companions nodded. "I found that if you just pretend to run your hands over
the panel, he thinks you've some massive change."



**That is a representative example of officious,** the cerulean woman
thought to herself. "Really? How surprising?" Kor glossed over her impatient
thoughts with a more polite response.



"Yeah, I realized that about two days ago," the brunette from Ohio said. She
took a bite of lasagna. "You know…he's supposed to a demonstration on
transwarp theory tomorrow. We could…"



"…have a little fun with the simulation."



Sally smiled. "My thoughts exactly. I was an ops officer. I'm pretty handy
with computer programs."



"I was a sec/tac. I bet the lab's security protocols would be fairly easy to
override," Eishnala suggested.



"Excellent. Sounds like we have a plan," the Telurite said with a smile.



-=(^)=-



Scene: Corridor in the Daystrom Laboratories à Demonstration Holodeck



Three grown adults skulked through the darkened hallways of the complex. A
Telurite, an Andorian, and a human hovered over an access panel. That
combination sounded vaguely like the start of one of those bar jokes,
Eishnala mused to herself as she plugged security router into a port. Her
tricorder suddenly filled with information about the security measures
governed by the panel and employed to protect the room.



Gresh leaned her head out of the group and double checked to make sure no
one was coming. Classes were over for the day, but a researcher could always
be pulling a late night. She had developed an emergency transporter protocol
to get them out of the building if it looked like they might be caught.



"Looks like a pretty standard voicelock system. It will log who ever access
the room into a database for security purposes," Eishnala observed. "We
should be able to open it with any of our access codes as recognized
researchers. I'll divert the log information to this P.A.D.D. Their records
won't show a trace of us if anyone goes looking. Set."



"Computer, open Demonstration Holodeck 2."



A tinny disembodied voice announced, "Authorization required."



"Lieutenant Gresh Rotel Lastraan, Theta-6-7-3-Pi."



"Code accepted." The silver doors parted.



"There's no visual recording device in there?"



"No. Someone should suggest they add one, "Eishnala said with a smile.
"Their security protocols seem woefully inadequate. Guess that's what you
get when you have engineers seeing to the security situation of a lab."



"He's been teasing you about why sec/tacs don't make good engineers, hasn't
he?" Sally asked in a whisper.



"Something about have a propensity for blowing things up. Well…I think he'll
be the one with a propensity for the whizzes and bangs," Eishnala snorted.



"Too true ladies. Lets get this show on the road. I saw that light in the
lab two doors down flicker off. We'll have less company in the lab than out
here," Gresh placed a furry hand on a shoulder of each of her fellow
partisans, escorting them into the room.



Sally walked over to the station that holoprojectors produced what ever sort
of engineering equipment was required for a demonstration. "Computer access,
transwarp simulation alpha-2."



-=(^)=-

Scene: Demonstration Holodeck

Time Index: The next day



Clots of older officers flowed into the room taking seats along the lecture
seating of the demonstration room.



The junior officer cleared his throat as the witching hour approached.
"Today we are going to review basic transwarp theory. The Excelsior project
began in 2285 was the Federation's first attempt to develop a faster than
warp drive. Physicists had long predicted that any speedy was theoretically
possible for ship propulsion. The great experiment was a failure. The first
prototype experienced a cascade reaction leading to a core breach when the
vessel's dilithium became unstable when exposed to the high frequencies of
transwarp travel," Lieutenant Turner droned, reciting history that
non-engineers already knew. "Other problems with transwarp prevented
progress on developing faster than warp drives. High speeds developed a
velocity differential that could cause tritanium depolarization. The first
successful human experiment led to cellular mutation in the test pilot."



"So how did we overcome these obstacles? Computer, begin transwarp
simulation alpha-2."



Gresh and Sally glanced at one another. Gresh mostly failed to suppress a
sly smile, but her marbled fur covered what her impertinence failed to.
Though Eishnala could have sworn she saw the former doctor's nose twitching.




Checkered black and yellow walls quickly transformed into a cavernous space.
A brilliantly pulsating core, flecked with the blues, ceruleans, and indigos
Kor was so familiar with, filled the center of the space. The panel Brian
stood at became one of the operation clusters for the generator combining
holomatter with holo-antimatter. It was the same panel Sally had spent two
hours with the night before.



Turner began the arduous process of explaining how Starfleet scientists had
analyzed a sample of super stable, though rare dilithuim discovered in the
Delta quadrant and eventually developed a process to alter the far more
common form dilithuim. A bajoran officer asked a question or two about the
process, but generally the class remained quiet. Turner hadn't quite
realized his audience was more sophisticated than he intended on treating
it.



"Cellular mutation is by far the most sever challenge for engineers to
overcome. Starfleet physicians could undo the damage caused by intermittent
exposure to the high frequency particles associated with transwarp
reactions, but they couldn't prevent it. Ironically, transwarp geometry
proved to be the key." Turner touched the control panel. "Bi-lobed ovoid
formations not only create a pocket for the vessel to smoothly travel, but
control the radiation dispersing it relatively safely.



"Computer, apply the Lorentzian manifold equation to the field and engage."



The feminine voice announced its compliance. However, klaxons quickly lit.
Gresh looked at Sally this time, unable to do with oblique glances. A red
glow molted the blue of the reactor core. The gentle swirling storm so
carefully controlled within its magnetically enhanced walls began to darken.




The junior officer mussed his brown hair. "I don't understand. This isn't
supposed to happen."



"Cascade reaction detected. Core breach eminent."



"If the transwarp field isn't properly calculated, the core destabilizes
more quickly than they did in the old warp models. You'd probably have less
than three minutes to stop a problem like this one. Computer, apply
Lorentizan manifold equation to the field," he insisted. Color raised to
Brian's cheeks when the storm seemed to be brooding all the more.



Turner closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Okaaay….apply an Alcubierre
function to the field…this should force the bubble to collapse. No transwarp
bubble is better than a bad transwarp bubble."



"Error. Cascade reaction accelerating. Fifteen seconds till core breach."



In the red light, the indigo looked…angrier. Not that it was rational to
apply an emotional to a random coalescence pattern.



Brian hurridly tried to calibrate a nacelle to force a micro supraliminal
bubble to form and disrupt the transwarp field. He was too slow. Or perhaps
too late. On a real ship, it would have been crazy to try anyways. The
nacelles would have been sheared from the vessel, resulting in the same
massive casualties a core breach was notorious for.



Blue energy flooded the space. Turner closed his eyes as a wave of "plasma"
billowed in to him. "Computer end program."



Black walls. Yellow lines danced across their surface creating a plaid of
holographic emitters.



"That's funny. I thought it was sec/tacs who blew things up," a human
commander with salt and pepper hair said. He still dawned the gray of his
former discipline.



Brian knitted his brow. This looked unprofessional. That he was sure about.
But the thing that bothered the junior officer most was that it shouldn't
have happened.



-=(^)=-

Scene: Replimat



A sea of tables, but unlike before, they were mostly empty now. Meal times
were regulated in the regimented lifestyle of a pseudo-military
organization. The "accident" had let the class out early. Sally plopped onto
on of the chairs and was quickly followed by her non-terran companions. "Did
you see the look on his face?"



"Priceless," Gresh said.



"I guess doctors, security guards, and operation specialists cause
explosions."



-=(^)=-



NRPG:



Looks like a very interesting mission you guys have going on. Seems like
there isn't a very good canonical reason or method for bringing Eishnala
aboard so I thought I'd play with the idea of professional development.  Thanks
for the welcome I've received.



-=(^)=-

Katrina Browne writing for

Lieutenant Commander Eishnala sh'Kor

Chief Engineering Officer

USS STONEHENGE


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