Priorities

Posted on Mon Jun 9th, 2025 @ 3:20pm by Lieutenant Ánderijá "Rija" Rautajärvi & Lieutenant Rel Ry'lar

2,207 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Cead Mile Failte
Location: Officers' Mess, Deck 2
Timeline: 0540 Hours

He had completely given up on breakfast.

The smell of replicated eggs lingered faintly beneath the strong scent of fresh-brewed coffee. Rija sat opposite Senior Chief Petty Officer Cassius "Cash" Cullers on the portside of the Mess. It was early morning by most standards, the kind of hour that made the deck feel colder beneath his boots and the lighting a little too bright. Cullers had already finished his food and now sat, forearms braced heavily on the table, nursing a plain mug of black coffee that steamed against the scarred bronze colouring of his skull implant.

The senior chief had been recounting a war story. Not in the way some veterans did--with gloss, detachment, or a dash of irony--but with the precision of someone remembering the flow rate on a plasma manifold. Matter-of-fact. No embellishment. Every single detail anchored in muscle memory.

Rija studied man. He certainly was not a typical engineering technician. He was completely bald, tall, muscled, and seemed to contain everything within an enormous frame. His demeanour was nothing short of gruff and he was unapologetically direct.

"So I'm halfway up the ridge when the Jem'Hadar sprints through the smoke and takes my corporal's head clean off with a kar'takin. Just pop." Cullers didn't gesture. He never did. "We had to the clear the gully anyway. No time to mourn. My left foot was already fused into the soil from the heat of the crater. Still got the dermal sheeting for it. Hurts when the weather shifts."

Rija stared at the cooling remnants of his omelet, his appetite swiftly unraveling. He'd grown up surrounded by hunters and herdsmen, and he wasn't squeamish by nature. But the way Cullers described violence--with clinical detail, like a systems log--left little room for comfort. Or digestion.

"You were lucky to survive," Rija offered quietly, the words a lifeline in the uncertain of conversation.

Cullers gave the smallest of nods. "Luck's a story people tell themselves after the blood dries." He glanced at Rija's nearly-untouched plate. "You going to finish that?"

Rija shook his head. "Help yourself."

Cullers didn't hesitate. He reached across with a precise, mechanical motion, dragging the tray toward him and cutting into the omelet as if it were an assignment. He ate quickly, without mess or waste.

"Time to work," he said a moment later, standing up and straightening his uniform jacket with a firm tug. "Captain doesn't like slackers. And neither do I."

Rija wiped his mouth with a napkin, grateful for the excuse to pause and collect himself. "I need to swing by my quarters first. Forgot something."

Cullers shrugged. "Suit yourself." And just like that, he was gone--boots disappearing out of the Mess Hall and down the corridor.

Rija exhaled once, softly. The senior chief's presence had a gravity all its own. The man was competent--too competent, perhaps. But unrelenting. Whatever conversation remained in the man had been blasted clean sometime around the Second Battle of Chin'toka, replaced with some kind of slow-burning lucidity.

He gathered his tray and deposited it in the replicator recycler slot before making his way into the corridor. Rather than take the most obvious and direct route to Engineering, he angled toward the far turbolift at the opposite end of the corridor. The detour was not necessary, but it offered some breathing room--space to let his thoughts unfurl without the shadow of another war story at his elbow.

As he rounded the curve toward the next junction, he nearly collided with a Benzite officer moving in the opposite direction, his bluish-lavender skin and atmospheric breather marking him.

"Lieutenant," Ensign Mezron said in his typical stately manner. "Good morning."

"Morning, Mezron." Rija stepped aside, providing some personal space for the Ensign. "I was just headed to Main Engineering."

"Excellent timing." The Benzite gestured with a data PADD held in his thick, slightly-webbed hand. "Lieutenant Ry'lar is waiting for you on Deck Seventeen. There is a series of incomprehensible feedback readings along one of the EPS power interlinks. The system is self-correcting itself every few cycles, which is why we haven't caught it until now. But it is causing a three-microsecond lag in sensor sweeps."

"Three microseconds, Mezron?" Rija raised a brow.

"Yes. Entirely non-critical. But Lieutenant Ry'lar believes it may indicate a deeper synchronization fault within the relay chain. And I, for one, admire his optimism."

Rija turned one end of his mouth up--a very slight smirk. "He's not wrong. If that feedback gets worse, it'll be spitting out errors until the buffer is overloaded."

"My thoughts exactly, Lieutenant."

"Thanks. I'll head down."

As he turned toward the turbolift, he paused, noting that Mezron hadn't followed.

"You're not coming?"

The Benzite's shoulders lifted to perfect composure. "I require a chocolate chip croissant first. Priorities, Lieutenant."

Rija let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "I'll be sure leave have Ry'lar leave some glitch for you.

"See that you do."

As the lift doors closed, Rija allowed himself a much-needed moment of stillness, already running the possible diagnostic paths through his mind. EPS lag in a well-maintained system was rare, but not impossible. The real question was whether it was a localized gremlin or part of a wider, emergent pattern. Either way, crawling through the ship's conduits and service spaces with the other new officer seemed infinitely preferable to another pre-shift breakfast with Cash Cullers.

He tapped his fingers once against the side of the lift. "Deck Seventeen."

And with that, he descended into the bowels of the ship.

* * *

Location: EPS Relay, Junction 877-Gamma, Deck 17


Lieutenant Rylar quickly moved between two consoles, attempting to simulate the current situation with the EPS power interlinks. Both systems run the same variables the actual system does, but trying to implement two completely different fixes.

"Computer in Simulation One, reduce the flow rate of the plasma by six percent, monitor EPS junctions...." he stopped and listened to the beeping of his modified engineering tricorder. "Two-One-Seven Alpha and Bravo." he said before moving to the second console. "In Simulation Two, reroute any additional power draws away from Two-One-Seven Alpha and Bravo instead use Seven-One-Seven Alpha and Eight-One-Seven Alpha to handle any of the excess slack." he finished before taking a step back from both consoles and crossing his arms waiting for the computer to update the simulations.

"Good morning, Lieutenant."

Rija popped his head out of a crawlspace behind Ry'lar and grunted softly as he hauled himself out of the claustrophobia-inducing tube. The air here had a faint, ionized sting. Like the signature scent of charged circuitry and polymer insulation that always seemed warm from persistent use.

He gave a slight tug to his uniform before stepping closer to the simulation consoles. "Mezron gave me the overview," Rija said, eyes scanning the readouts. "What are we chasing--phantom feedback, misbehaving interlink, or something else?

"Morning Lieutenant." Rel replied while shifting between the consoles. "Probably all of the above." he said listening to the computer list off update to date readouts on the current simulations. "Running a few simulations before addressing the problems. It could also be the new systems Lieutenant O'Conner informed us about drawing additional power sources."

He moved over to the second console, "In this simulation I rerouted all requests for power to other relays." one of his antenna started twitching slightly. "It seemed to have solved the issue but then it starts up again. In the other simulation, I reduced the flow rate of the plasma in the EPS to the minimum safe usage, it also fixed it for short while before starting again."

He twisted at his waist to help loosen him up, "We may just have to crawl deeper into the ship and go hands on to get a better feel for what is actually happening."

Rija nodded, examining the second console's readout. "Lead the way," he said, gesturing to the Jefferies tube junction he had just crawled out of. "At least the reduced flow rate should buy us some time while we look for the source of the problem."

Rel nodded and moved to crawl into the Jefferies tube, starting their descent deeper into the ship. His tricorder letting off low tone beeps slowly increasing in pace, "What do you think of the Washington so far?" he asked as he crawled ahead of Lieutenant Rija.

"It's a nice change of pace," he replied, settling in behind the Andorian Aenar in the tube. "Living on a Sovereign-class is nice. What few of the senior staff I've met are friendly." He rubbed one of his knees absently and added, "And you--how do you find it?"

"Met the local Andorians, Captain and one of the medical staff. As well as most of the engineering staff, still need to meet more of the senior staff." he said crawling as his tricorder started rapidly beeping. He crawled past the section and made the attempt to turn around, roughly brushing his antenna against the junction panel. "You would hope on the next class of starship they build, they make these a little wider. Anyways, this should be where the problem is originating at."

Rija removed his own tricorder from the holster of his belt and began scanning the junction panel. "We can open the panel but before we touch anything, we'll need Engineering to reroute the flow," he said, realizing a simple fix was now a little further out of reach. He tapped his combadge. "Rija to Engineering."

[Cullers here Lieutenant,] came the gruff, no-nonsense voice of the former marine.

"We're down here on Deck 17, section six-two-six-iota. Please reroute plasma flow through secondary and tertiary lines and let us know when the process is complete."

He settled onto his butt and rubbed at his knee again. To Rel, he said, "I'll never understand why these crawlspaces were made to be so uncomfortable." Continuing their previous conversation, he asked, "So you met the Captain?"

"I did, for a few moments anyways in Sickbay." he responded, feeling about the edges of the junction panel and removing it from the wall of the Jefferies tube. Exposing the EPS lines, using his tricorder he started his manual scans first. "To be honest, I think the fleet designers at Utopia Planitia did it on purpose."

[Cullers to Lieutenant Rautajärvi, plasma flow has been diverted. You should be clear.]

"Thanks, Chief." Rija nodded to Rel and they began their work.

Using his coil spanner from his kit Rel started to remove the section of EPS lines, "This should be the primary line and," he said tapping another separate line with his coil spanner. "The secondary. If we can't fix it ourselves, we may have to flush the entire section which means we may have to reroute all power requests for a day."

Rija blew out his cheeks. "I can think of more than a few people whose day we would be ruining," he replied, aware of the weight of the situation. "Well, let's start with the primary line."

Rel nodded, starting to remove the first section of the primary line, followed by the second section. Then removing the central processing relay and finally the distribution manifold. "What do you think about the new defensive systems?"

"I'll have a better opinion when I see them in action," Rija replied, removing a piece of paneling just ahead of where Rel was working. "We should check the conduit integrity too."

"Ya, I did take the liberty to start reviewing the last time they were used. At least the readouts and sensor logs from them. First hand experience would be the best so we can figure out a suitable power supply point for them." he said readjusting his position and his scans of the first plasma line. "It looks like there is a small "crack" on the internal of this one, probably be best to replicate a new one. Could be the cause of our issue or just a supporting factor." He thought for a second.

"Or the aftermath of whatever caused this issue."

Rija grunted in agreement. "It's always something tiny," he said, shaking his head. Changing the subject, he continued, "Lieutenant, can I ask why you look... different... than other Andorians I've encountered?" He seemed genuinely interested in an innocent and curious way.

"Well I'm only half Andorian, the other half and the more dominant gene is Aenar, a subspecies of Andorian of the same planet. Less population and we rarely decide to venture out into space let alone join Starfleet." he replied checking the secondary line for any cracks.

"That explains it," he said. "I have never heard of the Aenar."

Suddenly, the lights dimmed before returning to normal a few moments later. Rija looked to Rel. "Maybe we should have the component replicated as soon as possible," he suggested.

"If I was Vulcan, it would be the logical choice." Rel said with a smirk while getting ready to head back to the workshop.

Rija nodded impatiently and the two engineers turned and clambered back the way they came. The last thing either of them wanted was having to deliver an explanation to the Captain.

* * *

Lieutenant Rel Ry'lar
Assistant Chief Engineer
USS Washington

&

Lieutenant Ánderijá "Rija" Rautajärvi
Assistant Chief Engineer
USS Washington

 

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