The Two Hours' Traffic of Our Stage

[ScottSabourin 0]

This starts at where the last sim before the Christmas break when the station first came back ended. It will change though…

 

Dent and Sabourin walked onto the CT. There were blown-out panels and flashing lights everywhere.

“Whoa…” Scott was thinking of the large job ahead of them, “It’s times like these when I wish I hadn’t lost that manual.”

But despite the size of the task at hand, Scott was, in some miniscule way, excited to take it on, and he expected the other Lt. JG was.

Speaking of Mr. Dent… “Arthur… Guess what! I lost my manual!”

Dent paused what he was doing for a second, sighed, and started again, not saying anything to Scott.

“I was thinking maybe we’d do what we could, and then if we realized we needed the manual, I’d go and find it…”

Arthur grunted.

Scott, frowning, got to work.

 

Now it’s about 5 minutes before the sim that I missed started…

 

Scott, lying under his console, was trying to restore the program that would monitor the internal sensors. “That’s it!”

He switched a chip, and crossed a funky-coloured wire, and the console started whirring. He sat up, got into the chair, and read the display:

 

Routing Internal Sensor Readout……Complete

Rendering Station Schematic……Complete

 

Would you like to use scanning mode A, B, C, or D?

 

After pondering for a second, Sabourin elevated his voice slightly, “Computer: elaborate. What does each of the scanning modes involve?”

And the computer responded, “Literary file found; now playing.” And then the computer started to recite Romeo & Juliet.

 

"Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whole misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their parents' strife."

 

“Computer: Stop playback.”

“There are 5 people on the Control Tower. Now continuing with playback:

 

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend."

 

“Curious… Computer: How many people are on the Control Tower?”

“Stopping playback.” And the computer ceased its monotone play, and the console beeped, requesting the prefered scanning mode.

“Arthur,” Scott looked over to the Flight Ops Officer, “I’m going to find that manual.”

This time Arthur nodded; Scott stepped into the turbolift, and hoped that when he said “Deck 24,” he not only ended up there, but that that would be where the manual was.