A Ship In Trouble

[John Randall 0]

OFFICIAL LOG

LIEUTENANT JOHN RANDALL

USS CHALLENGER

 

(Personal Log Stardate 11310.06)

 

 

John returned to the main console after working on the generators. He sat

down at a station, and called up the program to see the efficiency report on

the generators. He read the chart, and sat back, satisfied with the results.

A few seconds later, he was tapped on the shoulder, and looked up into the

face of ensign Steve Davis. "Hey, Lieutenant," he said, and John grinned at

him. "Hey Steve," he replied. "I guess you can report to the warp core station,

huh?" Davis grinned back. "Wherever you need me, John," he said. The

lieutenant nodded. "All right, off with you, then," he smiled. Davis grinned

back, and left for the station.

 

Randall then turned to look at his friend Jeff Michaels, who was only a couple

of seats over. "Jeff, I'll be in the chief's office," he said. "Probably need to check

his computer. You have the conn." "Aye, Lieutenant," replied Michaels, and

shot John a mischievous grin. Randall grinned, rolled his eyes, which caused

Michaels to laugh, got up, and made his way to the chief's office. He went inside,

and sat down at the computer.

 

He began to sort through the reports and e-mails that had accumulated in the

chief's inbox. After he finished that task, he pulled up the diagnostic reports

for the entire department, and looked through them. He then pulled up the

sensor logs, and was studying them when a stray thought went through his

head. He started to push the 'comm button, then shook his head, and whipped

out his communicator.

 

"Randall to Davis," he said. Almost immediately, his friend answered. "Davis here."

"Steve, the shields are doing a pretty good job holding back the radiation, but

I'm still kinda worried about the engines. I would like you to erect a level two force

field around the warp core," said Randall. "Set it up, and execute." "Aye, lieutenant,"

replied Davis. "I will contact you when it's set up. Davis out." Randall replaced his

communicator, and went back to studying the sensor logs. About fifteen minutes

later, his communicator beeped. "Randall here," he said. "Davis here, sir," said

his friend. "The force field is in place, if you'd care to have a look." "Acknowledged,"

said John. "I'll be there shortly. Randall out."

 

He switched off the chief engineer's computer, after saving everything, got up, left

the office, and headed back to the warp core. He noted with approval the slightly

diminished appearance of the warp core, which meant the field was in place. He

turned to Davis, and smiled. "Well done, Steve," he said. "This looks good." Davis

smiled back. "Thank you, sir," he said. "This should stop any radiation, should it

start leaking through the outer hull."

 

Randall clapped Davis on the shoulder. "Keep an eye on it for me, hm?" he asked.

"No problem, John," replied Davis. John nodded, turned, and went back to the main

console. He brought up some more reports, and began looking through them. As

he read the reports, he became aware of a steadily growing headache. He looked up

from his monitor, massaging his temples, and that's when he noticed it wasn't just

himself that was apparently suffering. Just about all the crew he could see had

different expressions on their faces, and none of them were pleasant. John thought

to himself, 'This may mean the radiation is starting to build so powerfully it's actually

bleeding through the shields.'

 

About that time, chief engineer Eddie Freeman came through the engineering doors.

He looked around, spotted John, and came quickly over to him. "Status report, Randall,"

he said. John led him to the main console, and pulled up the reports for him. Freeman

sat down at the console, and began reading. Randall took a station next to him, and

pulled up the reports on the radiation from the science department. As he got ready

to read them, he suddenly heard Freeman exclaim, "What the---?" John looked over

at the chief, who was staring at a crewman who had suddenly left his station, and was

weaving back and forth.

 

John rapidly left his station, and rushed over to the crewman, grabbing him before the

man hit the deck. "What's wrong, crewman?" he asked. The man had both hands held

tightly to his head. "My head," he moaned. John then saw the back of the man's head

and neck was beet red. He quickly looked at Freeman. "Chief, we need to get this man

to sickbay, now," he said tersely. Freeman started to punch the 'comm button at his

station, and Randall said, "Chief, the 'comm's down. You'll probably have to use your

communicator." Freeman muttered an oath, and whipped out his communicator. As he

readied it for use, he looked over at John. "Radiation?" he asked, and Randall nodded.

Freeman spoke into the communicator, and was advised by sickbay to use the intra-ship

transport. He affirmed, looked over at Randall, and nodded. John braced himself for the

transporter effect, and, a few seconds later, he and the crewman materialized in sickbay.

 

Dr. Gretchen Hanson, the chief medical officer, was talking with the executive officer,

Commander Erica Rinax. When she saw the two men on the sickbay transporter pad, she

immediately dispatched two medtechs to the pad. The techs took the sick man from Randall's

grasp, and led him over to a bio-bed. John watched for a couple of minutes, then, satisfied

the man was receiving treatment, turned to leave. He stopped short of the door, however,

as a shout from Hanson reached him. "Hold up a second, Lieutenant," she said. She made

her way over to him. "Are you feeling all right, John?" she asked. Randall nodded. "I just

have a headache, that's all," he said.

 

Hanson narrowed her eyes. She gestured around sickbay, and Randall noticed then that

the department was nearly full of crew, who were in obvious distress about something.

"That's how the rest of them responded," said the doctor. "Why don't you step over here,

and let me check you out?" John started to say something, then thought better of it as he

noticed a worried glint in the doctor's eyes. "All right, Doc," he said, and he allowed Gretchen

to lead him to a nearby station. She entered some data into the computer panel, then picked

up a scanner. "This won't take but a minute, Lieutenant," she smiled. Her eyes, however,

were telling a different story, and John began to realize the doctor was worried about him.

They had become friends over the last year, and John held a lot of respect for Hanson's

medical abilities.

 

The doctor finished scanning him, and frowned at the results. "You say you have a headache,

John?" she asked, and Randall nodded. "Has it gotten worse in the last five minutes?" she

continued, and the lieutenant stared at her. She nodded as he looked at her. "I thought so,"

she said. "Why don't you sit over here, and I'm gonna hook you up to this machine here."

She led him over to a machine which had a chair at the end of it. She sat him down in the

chair, and wrapped a sleeve around his right bicep. She then attached a couple of pads to

his head, and connected wires to them. She then punched some data into the panel on the

machine, and looked down at him. "This won't take long," she smiled, and turned to go to

her office.

 

John sat there for about ten minutes, then, suddenly, people began arriving in droves, or so

it seemed that way to him. The medtechs had their hands full, as well as the doctor, and it

was rapidly becoming too crowded for him. He removed the sleeve from his arm, took the pads

off his head, stood up, and powered down the machine. He made his way over to the sickbay

door, and, as it swooshed open to admit yet more crew, slipped out into the corridor. His head

was really hurting now, but it seemed that what time he had been hooked up to the machine,

he had felt better. 'It really didn't hit me until I left sickbay,' he thought, and knew then that the

radiation was seeping through the shields into the ship. He knew he had to get back to

engineering, and tell the chief. He stepped into the turbolift car as it arrived. "Deck 12," he said,

and, as the car got underway, almost immediately felt better. The headache was still there, but

it wasn't as bad.

 

 

END LOG