Working Together

Posted on Thu Apr 21st, 2011 @ 2:54am by Lieutenant Three of Seven & Lieutenant Xylia Lischka

Mission: Renegades
Location: Deck 13; Tertiary Engineering
Timeline: Following: 'The Reality of Things...'

Xylia left Cowell's ready room and took a moment to compose herself. Her plan was to ask the old man to catch a few winks by the end of their discussion, but their was no rest for the weary in conditions such as these. The recent attack made her think back to the time she served on board the USS Ponce. When she actually thought about it, that hadn't been all that long ago. Months, in fact. And now... here she was on a different ship. A sense of dj vu caused shivers to weave their way down her spine.

She thought back to the search and rescue mission as well. Having Chet as part of her group made things a little easier to cope with despite the fact he was dropped on his head as a baby... a small child... teenager... and possibly even an adult. That man was definitely a character, and some of the things that came out of his mouth...

Then there was the Ensign. She still wasn't quite sure how she felt about that one. He was efficient in most matters, but for some reason the way he reacted at seeing the woman's body bugged her. Death was as much a part of life and breathing, and she was fairly certain she came across as a cold and callous bitch when she mentioned it all being a part of the job, and perhaps at that moment she intended to be. Hell, even she didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she wasn't a newcomer when it came to seeing a dead person.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Three of Seven."

"Lieutenant Three of Seven is on deck thirteen. Tertiary Engineering." came the computers curt response.

'Great.. back to the wasteland.' Xylia thought to herself.

The woman geared up for the trek down to the lower levels, knowing full well that conventional means of getting there were out. That meant she would be snaking her way through the bowels of the beast to get to her required location, and within minutes, she was looking at the hatch leading to the Jeffries tube. It was definitely a good thing she wasn't claustrophobic, otherwise there would be problems.

Slipping in to the tube, the woman closed the hatch behind her and began snaking her way toward her destination. She had no plans at all to enter any main corridors and risk exposing herself to anything noxious. While she moved along, she gave thought to the Commodore's words. It was his wish to have the areas sealed off, and she definitely had to agree with him. The conditions below were beyond poor, and with so many casualties already, she didn't want to be responsible for more, so the plan of action was to get the job done right the first time.

Xylia blinked when she realized she was at her current destination. She wasn't really sure how that had happened, but she was pretty deep in thought as she traveled along. Pushing the hatch open, she entered Tertiary Engineering and looked around at the few moving bodies present. All but one was wearing protective wear, and it was that one she honed in on, a look for horror crossing her features. Her only reaction was to run toward the drone. "You're injured!"

The former drone had spent the time since the attack in perpetual motion. Aside from the distraction of evacuating bodies from the lower sections, and then reinforcing the port nacelles, the EPS ruptures on deck thirteen and fourteen had been the crux of the Borg's focus and attentions. A number of plasma fires had broken out below decks, the resulting labor tearing away or even melting the layers of bioplast which normally coated the drone's metallic frame. Hearing the voice, Three immediately looked up to try and identify the wounded party. It had sent a number of its engineering personnel to Sickbay for what had, thankfully, been mostly minor injuries. Primarily smoke inhalation from the toxic fumes now permeating the lower sections. It was only upon reflection that Three registered the concern to center upon itself.

And only then did the Borg consider its appearance.

The hands had been stripped bare, the cobalt in the alloy giving the metal a bluish tinge in the light. The yellow overalls were almost entirely black, having been caught on fire and extinguished several times over the course of the last couple of hours. A flash fire had erupted at one point, melting away the faux skin on the right side of the drone's face. None of which was even remotely a thought in the Borg's mind.

"My function is unimpaired," Three answered shortly, turning back to the console it had earlier turned away from when concerned that someone had been injured. After a moment, the Borg turned to look up at the woman. "I trust you are fully functional as well?"

"I am functioning as well as I can given the circumstances. Nothing a few hours of sleep won't fix." The woman replied, taking a second to look the former drone over. She had a soft spot for Three. Even she didn't know why given what he once was. The Borg were extremely dangerous and very hostile in the best of times, but for some reason, she just couldn't find herself able to dislike the small one before her. "If you have just a second, I was hoping you could give me the rundown on which sections of the ship are damaged and non-essential for the time being. Commodore Cowell wants me to seal those areas off by force field, and if there is no power in those areas, by man power or make-shift barriers."

The drone nodded for the benefit of demonstrating its understanding. "Our damage control teams are already working to identify and contain those sections. The area of most concern is Deck Fourteen," Three responded neatly, pausing its labors just long enough to call up a detail of the master systems display for the woman's benefit and then highlighting the areas of principle concern. "We have ventilated this deck but not yet restored life support. Deck Fourteen, however, remains inaccessible. There is a ruptured plasma manifold somewhere, we have been unable to identify the nature or location of the breach. The deck is now entirely flooded with toxic gas, which has ignited into plasma fires in several sections. One of which poses a threat to the anti-matter containment pods on that deck."

A few deft taps and Three issued the command for the computer to call out a number of highlights, representing known fires beneath them. "My engineering teams are working to suppress the fires manually. Automated fire suppression remains off-line in most sections below Deck Twelve. I believe we will need to vent Deck Fourteen to space in order to extinguish the threat to the vessel," the Borg explained stoically, turning to glance up at the woman momentarily. "Your assistance in securing the access junctions to that deck would be appreciated."

"We must hurry however. The level of acceptable risk from the fire will exceed permissable limits in approximately four minutes," the drone added in the same flat, matter-of-fact tone.

Xylia listened to what she was being told. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. The woman hated Romulans before, but now she abaolutely loathed their very existance. "Anything you need me to do, I'll do. Let's get this done to avoid more damage." Pure adrenaline was all that was keeping her going at this point. Exhaustion was now a distant memory. "Lead the way."

"As you wish," Three answered simply, signaling for another technician to take its place at the console as the drone turned and guided the woman to the Jefferies Tube access junction and into the maintenance tunnels. Crossing under a series of patched power transfer conduits, the pair arrived at the internal sensor relay and environmental systems control for the tertiary hull.

"You will need to erect forcefields in sections 13-J, 13-R, 14-L, 14-O, 15-A, and 15-R," Three noted aloud, recalling the access points from memory, and indicating a small workstation. "I will begin deactivating the internal forcefields and attempt to override the safety protocol on the external ports for that deck," the Borg noted, moving to an alternate workstation and beginning the security override procedures.

Moving toward the workstation indicated, Xylia took a breath and prayed to whoever would listen that she got this right on the first try. Time was definitely of the essence. The Commodore told her he would see to it that the Romulans would pay, and in order for that to happen, this needed to be under control. That was just about the only motivation she needed at the moment. As Three began the security override procedures, Xylia began inputting commands to erect force fields in the necessary sections. She made sure she had everything precise as to not screw up.

"The override is ready, are the forcefields in place?" the Borg asked, glancing over at Lischka.

"They are." The woman responded.