Armed and dangerous... kind of?

Posted on Tue Dec 25th, 2012 @ 12:58pm by Ensign Adam Sheen & Captain Nathan Cowell MD

Mission: Funzone
Location: Deck 19 - Torpedo Magazine 02

"I don't get your disconnect, Crewmen."

Adam first kicked the armed torpedo casing with his boot. He then turned and kicked it harder with his heel, which echoed through the somewhat quiet compartment. The bay in days past had been a revolving door for engineers from both the starbase and Arizona's own compliment, tending to the damage. Their work has now done, onto other numerous problems throughout the vast ship. Now the room was occupied by Adam and a pair of munitions specialists.

The Ensign gave them the same blank stare that they exchanged with one another, before picking up an opened engineering kit resting upon a mobile diagnostic work station. He calmly closed the case, taking great care to make sure all the contents were where they belonged. He turned to the two young NCOs, shrugged his shoulders before giving them a giddy school boy smile.

"Armed quantum torpedo. Ready to go in the shoot in a moments notice. Galor-class battleship aft of us closing." Adam narrated energetically.

Sheen grabbed the closed, completely sealed engineering kit and hurled it at the torpedo casing. "Fire in the hole!"

The two crewman ran for the heavy cargo doors, while Adam stood pinching the temple of his nose in an attempt to relieve the sinus pressure building in addition to his horrible migraine. He waited for the cargo doors to open again and for the foot falls on the carpeted deck plating to get closer. He didn't turn, but he started.

"I told you four fraking times that the radiation leak hit every compartment on this deck. The warheads have been rendered inert. No fraking boom. How many different kinds of fraking stupid are the pair of you? I mean really? Get your fraking heads out of your scrawny asses and -" Adam turned to find...

The frowning disapproval of one Captain Nathan Cowell. He'd been roaming the corridors of the ship and upon seeing two very scared enlisted men practically bum rushing one another to get clear of what could only be some disaster, Nathan got curious. The verbal barrage by someone with their back turned wasn't the kind of disaster he'd been expecting.

"You might want to pull your own head out of your ass real fast before you go telling other people to, Ensign," the old man scowled, "Now why are there crewmen hauling ass out of this place?"

Shit.

The Ensign stood up straight, more enthusiastic than he normally would but considering the situation he was in he opted for the more... traditional approach. He wanted to ask the questions, and lately he had. Well at least in his own recently reclaimed realm. Very recent. In the last year Adam had come on board and built this security and tactical department to his liking, and in the last three months his former Captain had demoted him to Ensign and turned over the reigns to ... a train wreck of a Lieutenant. He had heard he was the nephew of an Admiral.

"Sorry Sir. I was just trying to drive the point home with some of our more recent assignments to the Arizona. Ensign Adam Sheen, Acting ... Chief Tactical Officer..." Adam extended his hand in a inviting manner, trying to dig himself out of the hole he was in.

"Acting, eh? Acting like what, a dumbass?" Nathan scoffed, ignoring the offered hand in favor of approaching the torpedo that sat in the middle of the compartment, "Let me guess... all my munitions have shit the bed and your underlings weren't getting the point. Can't say I'm overly shocked about that though... This boat caught hell and then some. Worse than being in that hell of a future by some standards..."

The old man turned around, "I hope you weren't trying to fix these. I'd rather you scrap them all and order new. And make sure you triple the number of tri-cobalt devices. Can't swat flies with napalm if I'm short on the stuff..."

Adam took note of the man referred to these as his munitions, but followed him nonetheless towards the casing. "The Captain had left orders to complete the rearming with as little use of new materials. Not a decision I agree with... In any way, shape, or form."

The Ensign rounded the casing, standing opposite of Nathan. He spun himself on his heels and turned to face the man. He leaned over the warhead, placing his hands on the casing. "And Acting, yes. I was the Chief up until three months ago when I made a case for not leaving people behind. I got axed. I got replaced. Most of my hand trained and picked staff were redistributed. My replacement is MIA...and by default you're stuck with me and the morons who were ready to load up our new aft launchers with a half a ton man made space rock."

Adam stood up and straightened up the top of his uniform jacket. "But if I have new orders, I would be more than happy to follow them..."

"I just told you to replace the damn things, didn't I? Sounds like an order to most people around here. Your old Captain's in the brig and will probably live the rest of his life in places like it and worse. If he doesn't save us all the trouble of housing him and commits suicide. Scum like him seem to want to live though..." Nathan shook his head, "Anyhow, what's your name, boy?"

The realization dawned on Adam as he slowly figured out who this man was. He wasn't surprised that he was the new Captain. That was the easy part. "Adam Sheen... You must be Liz's father... Sir..." He wanted to say he had heard so much about him, but decided against that avenue based on what he heard.

Nathan slowly turned to the man, "You must be a playboy. Should I ask you how you know my daughter or should I just throw you half way across the bay and just assume that you're doing things you shouldn't. Which is it, Playboy?"

"We uhhhh work on the Bridge together..." Adam, opting for the short answer. Still he wouldn't refute the first part, but ignored it nonetheless.

"Right, and bears don't shit in the woods either..." Nathan grumbled, "If you're going to mess around, leave Elizabeth out of it. She's had enough problems with men up and disappearing on her already. Unless of course you want me to kick the shit out of you. More than happy to oblige you there... Now get this place back in shape, Playboy. And do it yesterday."