"Paging Dr. Engineering"
Lt. Cmdr. Raikon Achaea, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant JG Schubert "Scruffy" LeBlanc
PO2 Wryn, Engineer
Stardate: 58807.15, 20h30
Location: Deck 3, USS Vanguard
***
At 2030 hours, the torpedo maintenance bay had its own rhythm. Quiet and cooler with a faint, mixed odor - metallic and oily. The hum of the Vanguard at warp thrummed through the deck plating, steady and quickly becoming familiar.
Wryn set her maintenance kit down beside the nearest workstation and checked over the display. Weapons and their systems were a necessary part of any starship, but not one she connected with. Still, she understood the importance of keeping every component balanced and reliable.
She keyed up the diagnostic interface, letting the console's soft glow settle across her hands. Others would join her soon. In the meantime, she valued the few minutes of solitude.
A few minutes after getting the call from the bridge, Scruffy Leblanc hurried into the torpedo maintenance bay. Woken up by the call, he didn't have his usual tool set on him, so the first stop was the standardized tool storage on the wall.
As he pulled a few and slipped them into his tool belt, he looked around the room, spotting Wryn. He gave her his signature easy smile as he caught her sharp but fair features. "I know we went through standard introductions, but we haven't had much chance to talk these first few days. I'm Scruffy Leblanc."
"Did the chief happen to say what we were doing tonight?"
Wryn turned toward Leblanc as he approached, giving a small nod in greeting. "PO2 Wryn," she said, returning the introduction. "Good to meet you properly."
She glanced briefly at the torpedo in its cradle before answering his question. "The Chief didn't say. I was called, so I came. I figure we'll hear the details when he gets here. The torpedo's baseline readings look stable."
Catching the end of the sentence as he walked in, Raikon nodded.
“It's good to hear our patient is doing well,” he smiled.
Walking to the head of the cradle where the torpedo was resting, he motioned for Wryn and Leblanc to come closer.
“The Captain wants to launch a few probes, a Class Four and an Class Eight.”
He gestured towards the torpedo magazine in the corner.
“As you may or may not know, the Nova class, due to its size, can only carry about 24 torpedoes, and half of those have been set aside in Class One to Four configuration.”
He leaned his hands on the torpedo in front of him.
“Unlike serving on a bigger ship, where most of the configuration is automatically done by the computer, on smaller ships like ours we have to be a bit more hands-on. Meaning that in order to make a Class Eight, we have to modify one of these bad boys,” he said, tapping the casing of the torpedo.
A wicked grin started to form on his face.
“Well, I say we... I meant you two.”
Standing upright, his face grew a bit more serious.
“I thought this would be a good learning experience for you two, and also give you the chance to work together more as a team, since Wryn only recently joined.”
He gestured towards Leblanc.
“I want you to take the lead on this, but don't worry. I'll be supervising every step of the way.”
Wryn stepped closer, eyes on the sleek torpedo casing. "Just to confirm, Chief... We're converting this torpedo into a Class Eight probe, with Leblanc leading and me supporting?"
She glanced between the two men in the room, "I'm ready when you are."
Scruffy absentmindedly nodded along as the Chief Engineer described the circumstances that required conversion of this torpedo, already thinking more about the equipment Science would expect installed than the potential of the warhead before him.
Scruffy's eyes widened momentarily as Cmdr. Achaea announced he would be taking a supervisory role, with Scruffy himself taking lead on the project. Suddenly, he was a lot more interested in recalling his schematics on the standard matter/antimatter warhead of Starfleet.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'Easy, Leblanc. You know these systems, just take it one step at a time.'
He opened his eyes and looked between the commander and Wryn. "Well, we better get those access panels open," he said with a reluctant smile.
"Fortunately, the detonator isn't active until the pod passes through the launch tubes, so the containment fields are stable and we don't have to worry about annihilation immediately," he spoke, confirming his knowledge to everyone involved as he leaned on the casing and activated the latches on the access panels.
Raikon acknowledged Wryn’s statement "That is correct, I'll let Leblanc take it from here."
Stepping back so as to give them some room. He caught a glimpse of Leblanc's face with the realization it was him that was going to lead. But the man quickly stepped to it.
He nodded when Leblanc made the statement about the detonator.
"Correct." He added. "A torpedo is primed as it leaves to ship, making sure there's little chance for detonation in storage or tube."
Gesturing to the magazine behind him as he walked around.
"But just to be sure they are stored in armored magazine just in case."
Wryn stepped in beside Leblanc as the panels opened. Once the casing was accessible, she began laying out the conversion components that the Chief had earlier indicated: sensor housings, telemetry relays, and the interface module.
After several more minutes of work, the torpedo's interior was fully exposed and prepped. Wryn glanced toward Leblanc, "Everything is staged. Just tell me what you want first?"
While Wryn was prepping the conversion components, Scruffy was dragging over the transfer hoses connected to the wall. "We need to drain the Matter/Antimatter storage chambers from the warhead before we can remove them. These keep the deuterium plasma and antimatter flows suspended in containment fields as they're returned to the ship's storage tanks. There's a similar system as part of the ship's umbilical whenever we need to refuel."
He handed one of the tubes to Wryn to plug into her side of the access panel. Once they were secure, he initiated the transfer flow. While he waited for the process to complete, he walked over to the spare-parts storage and pulled out a set of miniature warp-coils.
Raikon stood silently as he watched them both "operate" on the torpedo, converting it into a probe. He nodded at the correct steps Leblanc was taking.
While he had performed similar conversions countless times over the years, it was always good to see junior engineers gaining hands-on experience with the process. The procedure itself was fairly straightforward, but attention to detail remained essential when dealing with systems that had once contained matter and antimatter.
The transfer of the matter and antimatter stores was proceeding as expected. It was a routine procedure, but one that still demanded care and attention. A mistake around containment systems was not something anyone wanted to experience first-hand.
Folding his arms across his chest, he continued to observe their work from a short distance away, allowing them to get on with the task without unnecessary interruption.
Wryn secured the hose Scruffy handed her, locking it into the port on her side of the access panel. The transfer indicators flickered from amber to green, the containment fields shifting as the matter and antimatter stores began draining back into the ship's storage. She kept her eyes on the readings, calling out the stabilization points as they settled.
When the flow reached its midpoint, she glanced over and saw Scruffy returning with a set of miniature warp coils cradled in his hands. She straightened slightly, curiosity tempered by professionalism.
"Those for the probe's propulsion matrix?" she asked, keeping her voice low so as not to break the rhythm of their work. "Or part of the sensor package?"
She shifted her stance to give him room at the open casing, ready to assist with whatever came next.
Scruffy walked up to the casing just as the transfer completed and handed a set of coils across to Wryn. Other than scale, they were functionally identical to the coils that lined the warp nacelles.
"Propulsion," he said, answering her question. "A torpedo is too small for a standard reactor, but the ship's warp field induces a sympathetic field in the torpedo's coils. Your standard photon torpedo can only sustain a field of 3 Cochranes, if only briefly. These will help the Type-8 get up to Warp 9, determined by the speed of the ship when it is launched." Lying the coils on the upper casing, he used his control panel to open up the primary chamber, the larger sections swinging open like a couple of clams.
"The next step is to remove the empty storage tanks, but once we have room we'll finally be able to start the installation work." He pulled the de-coupler from his tool belt and started extracting the large antimatter storage tank, occasionally glancing across to see how she was getting on.
Raikon watched as the empty storage tank was removed from the torpedo casing, giving an approving nod as the work progressed.
"One of the reasons Starfleet adopted the Type-8 design was its flexibility," he commented. "A standard torpedo can be turned into a sensor probe, communications relay, navigational beacon, or half a dozen other things with the right modifications."
He stepped a little closer, briefly looking over the miniature warp coils resting on the upper casing.
"Of course, that only works if the conversion is done properly. A poorly aligned coil can leave you with anything from inaccurate sensor readings to a probe that drops out of warp well before it reaches its destination."
Returning his gaze to both engineers, he folded his arms once more.
"No pressure."
The faint smile that followed made it clear he was joking, at least mostly.
Wryn accepted the coils Scruffy passed over, settling them into the mounting brackets with careful, deliberate movements. The torpedo's internal hum shifted as each coil seated properly, the sympathetic field indicators rising in steady increments. She adjusted the alignment tabs by fractions, watching the readings stabilize into the narrow band Raikon had mentioned.
"Coil alignment nominal," she reported quietly. "Field induction is clean."
With the chamber cleared and the propulsion matrix in place, she stepped back to let Scruffy secure the final housing. Once the casing locked with a solid, even click, Wryn brought the diagnostic interface online. The probe's systems scrolled through the startup cycle - telemetry, sensor suite, propulsion, containment... each returned green.
She glanced toward the Chief Engineer and gave a small nod.
"Conversion complete. Type-Eight configuration is stable and ready for launch."
She set her tools aside, the faint satisfaction of a finished job settling in as she stepped back from the cradle.
Once the coils were aligned, Scruffy stepped back, scanning the system with his tricorder. "Plasma flows are aligned, fields are stable. She'll last just long enough," he said, locking down the propulsion system.
A few minutes later, they had finished installing the sensor suite the Bridge had requested. As Wryn did a final check of the systems, Scruffy closed up the access panels. He looked up at Raikon, "Conversion complete, Commander. Ready for deployment."
Raikon smiled, clasping his hands together.
"Well done. You two have done brilliantly."
As he approached the cradle, he gave the newly converted probe an approving glance.
Pushing the cradle towards the wall-mounted loader for the launch tubes, Raikon clicked it into place. Pressing a few buttons on the control panel, a hatch slid open and the Type-8 probe began its journey into the loading system.
Turning around, he tapped the badge on his chest.
"Lieutenant Tanner, this is Chief Raikon. The Type-8 probe has been loaded into the tube and is ready on your command."
"Acknowledged."
The channel closed.
Walking back to the pair of engineers, he nodded.
"Thank you, both. I hope you enjoyed the experience."
Turning slightly towards Wryn, he continued.
"I know this is outside your usual remit, but I think you've done well nonetheless."
Looking over to Leblanc, he gave a small nod.
"Although not many words were spoken between you, you both had a good grasp of the situation. Sometimes they just aren't needed."
Looking at them both once more, he smiled.
"I should probably get back to the bridge and leave you two to your duties."
"Thank you, Sir," Scruffy said with an assured smile. He waited as the torpedo was returned to the loading systems and disappeared behind a closing hatch.
"Given our 'brilliant performance," he said with a shrug and a grin, "any chance Officer Wryn could be free for a brief respite?" He looked over at her.
"I don't know about you, but after the tension for the first half of that procedure, I could certainly use something to relax with. No synthehol, I promise, even if only one of us is on-duty," he said, casually reminding the commander that he had been called during his off-hours. He gave Wryn a warm, friendly smile in casual invitation.
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