Hope Amongst the Hopeless

[Tachyon 0]

“Hope Amongst the Hopeless”

Stardate 0507.22

Ensign Tandaris Admiran

----------------------------------------------------

 

There are certain rules you learn at the Academy that are “unspoken rules,” “unwritten rules,” and of course, “common sense rules.” These rules are so omnipresent that it would be superfluous to write them in PADDs and teach them to gullible young cadets, because the cadets should know those rules simply by being Starfleet officers.

 

One of those rules was: “Don’t break the ship.” Tandaris glanced at bank of isolinear chips and sighed. It appeared that the ship was broke.

 

Slightly half an hour after his conversation on the bridge, Tandaris had returned to the fusion reactors and damage control teams six and seven. That conversation bothered him on several levels. Talk of evacuation was understandable, and at this point probably advisable. Still, being an engineer, Tandaris was rather attached to Excalibur and would rather not give her up until they had exhausted every possibility. With this firm yet all-to-typically-young/naïve resolve, Tandaris wanted to restore some semblance of power.

 

Damage control team seven had replaced the fusion initiator for the impulse engine fusion reactors. Now that this component was installed, the fusion reactors were ready to begin the fusion process. With the computer offline, Tandaris would have to manually engage the reactors and then they would need to be manually monitored until power was fully restored. It was a big job, but with several engineers working at it, he was convinced it was possible.

 

Tandaris sat at the bank of isolinear chips, a bead of sweat beginning to form at his brow and run down the side of his face. Cold hands gripped another chip as he removed it from its slot, slowly severing the reactor of its precious ties to the main computer. Once the necessary chips were removed, the reactor would automatically be in manual override, and he could start the fusion process.

 

The last chip stuck in its slot, feeling slippery against his clammy hand. Licking his lips nervously, Tandaris yanked it out a bit too roughly. After all, this wasn’t even the hard part yet. The most difficult—and dangerous—moment was yet to come, when they started to regulate a nuclear fusion process on their own without the help of sophisticated computers.

 

“That’s it,” Tandaris called out to John, head of damage control team seven, “the last chip has been removed. You should have manual control.” He gently placed the chip next to a small pile of others and got up on his feet, walking over to where John was at an exposed bulkhead.

 

The emergency console near John blinked with red text. “Manual override engaged,” it read confidently. Tandaris nodded at John, and the latter input the single command to begin fusion.

 

Almost immediately, things went wrong. The fusion reactors began to start up as if they were perfectly happy to start producing power again. Deuterium fuel rods turned in their slots, prepared to be bombarded by lasers to release their hydrogen atoms and be fused into hunks of helium, then iron, slag. EPS sinks opened to allow the power that was generated from these controlled atom-fusing reactions into the ship’s power grid. Then alarms started to beep across the emergency console.

 

Tandaris frowned. “What is it, what’s wrong?” A tight line drew across his face and he bent down to get a better look.

 

John sighed. “I was afraid of this. Damage control team six was supposed to repair the cooling system, which was damaged heavily during the attack. If we can’t get it online again, then we won’t be able to safely use the reactors.”

 

This impersonal ultimatum handed to them on a platter was not welcome, but seemed nonnegotiable. Reluctantly, the two damage control teams and an irate Trill engineer went to work repairing the cooling system—again. It took them nearly another hour to finally bypass the extensive damaged portions of the system and augment it with tubing from a cargo bay. Eventually, however, they had cobbled together a temporary solution.

 

People were advised to avoid the three sections near the fusion reactors for the next few centuries (or until a decon team arrived) unless they decided they didn’t want children, were fond of bioluminescence, and enjoyed baldness.

 

“All right,” Tandaris’ tired voice said again, his resolve still evident but markedly weary. “Let’s get it right this time, people!” With this admonishment hanging in the air, they began the fusion startup process again.

 

Tandaris’ mind was already plotting the nearest route to the escape pods.