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Calibrations and Cogitations

Posted on Thu Jan 30th, 2020 @ 8:41pm by Lieutenant Nikki St. John

Mission: Dead Moon
Location: Weapons Array


Calibrations were something every ensign assigned to tactical learned, usually under the guidance of someone more senior and nearly always, in their first few months out of the Academy. It was painstaking work but necessary; getting your hands dirty taught you things you might not learn otherwise. And so, Nikki St. John, whose title of Security Chief was clearly not a real one, did as ordered.

She knew the work and she got to it, moving with quick efficiency through routines she'd done a hundred times before. If only Shaille could see me now, she thought, as she opened a panel and began testing. But then she can't, because she has the emotional maturity of a teaspoon and can't get out of her own way long enough to get back on duty. Idiot.

Calibrations were about finesse. There were tolerances to be maintained and settings that could be tweaked but sometimes it was just a part that was going bad or needed to be replaced. And that was the reason it was done in person and not left to a computer to suss out. Better to know now than in the heat of battle. And too, it gave her time to think. Being on this ship had taught her a lot already about patience and keeping calm under pressure. You know, seh thought, Link told me this was a mistake and he was right. I owe him a bottle for sure. And it's true that every Captain has their own way of doing things. This one apparently likes to run Security herself. Go figure.

"It is how it is," she said aloud in the otherwise empty space.

Nikki shook her head, willing away unworthy thoughts, as she tweaked a setting that had fallen just outside tolerance and to be sure it didn't have any further problems, checked the circuitry that fed the reading. It doesn't matter. I just have to get through the next few ... days ... until my orders come through and I'm off this ship. Please let it not be much longer than that.

She moved around to a second panel and crouching in the narrow space, opened a panel to begin the next round of tests. And it makes sense, I suppose, when you consider that I'm the intruder. So note to self. Get a grip. You told yourself you'd hold onto your temper no matter what. Do the right thing and you will ... even if you get an ulcer doing it.

She finished up and moved on. Putting aside the duties she was supposed to be doing for the moment while she concentrated on the task she'd been given. Humming an old bar song to herself, she worked the way she always did. Efficiently and with a minimum of fuss. Before long, the calibrations were completed to her satisfaction. Several settings adjusted and one minor but troublesome part replaced. Now, she thought, as she sealed the last panel up. Time for me to get back to the Bridge ... unless of course they need someone to mop floors in the Mess Hall.


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