RP Log: Civvies vs Fleeters
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Location(s):
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Stardate:
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| 2024-03-12 01:10 | |
- Chief Engineer's Office <USS Phoenix NCC-170100-A>
- This dedicated office is large and designed to meet the needs of the officer and billet assigned to it. The carpet is steel-blue with navy-blue trim, with the bulkheads, walls, and furniture in a subdued pewter colour. The room is bathed in a soft glow from the overhead lighting panels, and a glossy black panel set into the bulkhead opposite the door provides access to an LCARS interface. A sizeable desk is positioned in the center of the room, with a tall backed swivel chair behind it. A display curves out of the desk with a touchpad set into the desk at its base, and on the opposite end is a tall, built-in lamp. In front of the desk are two mid-sized chairs, and two workstations are built into the bulkheads on either side of the room in small cubicles.
- Behind the Chief Engineer's Desk is a shadowbox framed in mahagony wood darkly stained, featuring a Colt Single Action Revolver. It is locked.
Knock from Out: The door chime beeps less than half a second before there's pounding on the door. A muffled voice from outside calls, Hello? Hello? I know you're in there. The computer told me so. More rapid pounding. Open up in there.
Hawthorn arrives from Deck 28 - Port Corridor.
LePage is looking, a tad horrified, at the door. His PADD is askew on his desk, almost as if being dropped. His eyes train on Hawthorn and he lets out an involuntary sigh, trying to relax and be cordial. "Doctor Hawthorn" he greets, dryly.
Hawthorn takes two steps into the office, sees LePage, and stops dead with her fists on her hips. "Oh, it's you," she says haughtily. "Our would-be hero. It figures." She rolls her eyes and stalks over to one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Did you request to have an office all the way down in the bowels of the ship, or did they stick you down here for a reason?" she asks as she flops herself into the chair.
It clearly takes almost all of LePage's energy to not reply in kind. "My office is situated down here because it's right next to Main Engineering. As Chief Engineer, it would stand to reason that I ought be by the Main part of Engineering" LePage says. He tried at least.
Hawthorn smirks at the engineer. "Touche, Starfleet," she allows. "So, that other Starfleet, Anewhatever, told me I'm supposed to work with you on this wormhole singularity thing." She crosses her legs one over the other at the knee, and crosses her arms in front of her as well. "So go ahead. Lay out the objective."
LePage grits his teeth, just a moment, before retrieving his PADD. "Right" he says, projecting his PADD onto his viewer. "Captain Anewan has requested that you and I work together to use the provided dataset and evaluate the properties of the wormhole so that I can engineer a safe method of collapsing, imploding or otherwise disarming the wormhole should it become an issue. I need your scientific analysis to feed my predictive models so that I can start working towards the solution. Does that track?" Gordon asks, relaxing only a tinge as he begins to fall back into his element.
"Of course it does," the tiny Terran clips. "What do you have so far?"
LePage slides the PADD to Hawthorn, utilizing his own desk terminal for collabrative efforts. "A sensor dump from a minute before we entered the wormhole to five after. It captures the time wherein the edge of the wormhole began to destabilize. I figured a good place to start would be there since that appears to be a natural instability"
Hawthorn glances down at the pad, then back up at the engineer. "I'm familiar with the data," she says. "I had a copy of the sensor logs sent to the science complex on Deck 4." Despite this statement, she reaches out and takes the pad off the desk and starts scrolling through it. "Degradation of the matrix begins at time index 387.2 on the terminal end of the wormhole. Sense it appears to be naturally occurring, there's a reasonable chance that there was a simultaneous reciprocal occurrence at the origin point, but we won't know for sure until we get there."
LePage nods. "Makes sense. Were there any emissions at that time from the collapsing matrix?" He asks, peering at the data himself. "I see lots of EM radiation, but it's all over different bands of the spectrum, I'm not sure they're corelated"
Without looking up from the pad through which she's still scrolling, Atlanta says, "Sure. But unless you know how that technology works that those idiots used to create the god damned thing, we don't know what's a result of the technology as intended, or what was the result of some kind of failure. Also, space usually exhibits homeostatic tendencies. We may have witnessed an example of the universe healing itself on an accelerated scale."
LePage hums. "Well I can't say I'm an expert, but I got a pretty good look at their wave generator" he states. "It's not like we'd approach it with conventional particle physics, instead they're using what's essentially a big electro-radiator to excite the local electromagnetic fundamental forces and rip them apart to rearrange them as needed"
Hawthorn grumbles, "For the love of... This is why we end up with quantum fractures in space extending for dozens of light years." She sighs and rolls her eyes. "How can they understand quantum mechanics and subspace physics enough to conceive of a device capable of such violence against nature, without also being aware of the damage risk inherent in such a device?"
"Terrans didn't exactly know if they'd burn the atmosphere off with the first fission ordinance" LePage says. "Not a defense. Just saying that every society has that moment where they get cut realizing the extent of the physical world"
Hawthorn stops scrolling and finally looks up from the pad. "Terrans shouldn't have been screwing around with those experiments at that time, either," she says. "But that doesn't help us here." She tosses the pad back onto the desk.
"If we get there and find the wormhole is still open, I'd recommend any attempt we make toward collapsing it to begin with a burst of antineutrinos, charged to the inverse polarity of whatever we find coming out of that thing."
LePage tilts his head before nodding. "I would agree that's a good start. Neutrinos intract with gravity as a fundamental force..." Gordon hums and strokes his beard. "Could make a poison pill. It was a common practice for later fision reactors that needed to be permanently decomissioned"
Hawthorn nods. "Now, if we get there and find a singularity instead of a wormhole..." She gazes off to one side for a second or so. "Well, if that's the case, I don't think there will be a planet there to save. Hell, the entire star system may be consumed."
"Until it novas out, yes" LePage says grimly. He seems to be bothered by that more than he lets on, but he's not holding a particularly impresive poker face
Hawthorn lets a few seconds of silence go by. Her feet don't touch the floor sitting in this chair, so she swings her legs back and forth, still crossed at the knee. Eventually she asks, "What do we do with two people who, either through intent or negligence, destroy their entire species?"
"Intent" LePage states. "I don't believe it was intent. Lougel may be an overeager idiot, but he's no murderer" Gordon crosses his fingers and furrows his brow. "The Starfleet in me says to offer them a home when they have none. Integrate their incredible talents into our fold. Take care of those who can't take care of themselves" He leans back with a sigh. "The protector of my department and all my folks says I don't want Lougel anywhere near my equipment now or ever. Drop them off on the nearest inhabitable planet that we have no affiliation with and leave. Will that be a death sentence for that world? I don't know"
"You know, if we get there and find a singularity has destroyed the star system, or even just the planet," Atlanta says. "Then whether they meant to or not, these people have just created one of the most terrifying weapons imaginable. It delivers a killing blow while simultaneously providing an escape for the attacker. The temptation to pervert it and weaponize it will be great. And these two so-called scientists who created it and destroyed their own families, friends, and entire species in the process, will have nothing to live for. How easy would it be to convince them to sell their research to the highest bidder?"
Gordon sets and unsets his jaw quietly. "So what? Imprison them for the rest of their days?" he says, looking up at Hawthorn. "I have the feeling that you'd just as soon their technology doesn't make it to Starfleet's Research Labs and I'm right there with you... to be honest"
Hawthorn laces her fingers together over her top knee and leans forward. "I'm saying that, if we have to leave them somewhere, maybe it would be better for the planet we choose to be one that's uninhabited, rather than inhabited."
"Marooned" LePage restates. "I'm not sure I can think of a better option... But that's why I don't wear the red. I just fix things" he says, with a seemingly absent conviction regarding his last statement.
Hawthorn climbs out of the chair and gets her feet back under her. She wiggles her toes in her shoes to get the blood flowing to them again. "It's not my decision either," she says as she turns toward the door. "I'll go dream up some other magic way to close a wormhole if the neutrino idea doesn't work. Unless there's something else?" She pasues just inside the door as it opens and turns back toward the desk to wait for an answer.
LePage fixes her with a stare. "Don't give my people any more trouble than they're due. If you have problems you come to me and I'll do the same for you. That's all I will ask Doctor"
Hawthorn raises her brows. "Trouble?" she asks. "What trouble?"
"The kind of trouble where you feel like getting into it with a 'starfleeter'" LePage simply replies.
Hawthorn frowns. "Is this about my expressed desire to slap those two idiots the other night?" she asks, then shakes her head. "No, it can't be. They aren't Starfleet." She steps back toward the desk enough to let the door close behind her. "What are you worried about? I clash with people all the time. Did I collide with one of your charges who felt the need to run to you for protection instead of just handling it on their own?"
LePage maintains his gaze. "It's your continued and general poor attitude towards the folks who run this ship. I'll be the first to raise objection with some of the command decisions made aboard this vessel, but I'm just an Engineer. I make my note and work with what I have. The way that you voice your concerns is frankly unproductive however. I have watched as you have belittled and intimidated folks who are just trying to get work done. We aren't perfect but we're doing our best here. You had every warning about what cruising on a Starfleet vessel would be like, and there are civillian scientific vessels to work on" LePage is drumming his fingers on his table rather roughly. "If you don't like us so much, why are you here? I find it hard to believe you developed this attitude concurrent with our vessel, you seem to have deep seated disagreements with Starfleet as a whole"
Atlanta's expression darkens. "I don't have to justify anything to you," she snaps, but then makes a visible effort to control her temper. After a moment she goes on in an overly patient sounding tone. "But you're right, I do have problems with Starfleet. I doubt you really want to hear them though, so let's just move right along to the other part of your inquiry. Why am I on this ship? As you pointed out, there are civilian science ships. Have you ever been on one? They're underpowered, underequipped, and more importantly, not out here." She thrusts a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the region of space that the Phoenix is in. "For all of Starfleet's downfalls, they have the best ships, the best equipment, the best power supplies, and get the most support of any other organization in the Federation. So maybe, if you had given it just a little bit of thought, you could have answered that question on your own. Why am I here on this ship? That's why I'm here on this ship. As for the rest, that's my business. Maybe, just maybe, I have good reasons for being so hostile. Or maybe I don't. Maybe I'm just a mean little person. Decide for yourself. I really don't care what conclusion you reach." She crosses her arms and glares at the engineer.
LePage keeps drumming his fingers on his desk before sighing. "Very well. That's all... reasonable. Still. I think that if you, me and everybody are gonna be stuck on this boat for years, we can do a little bit to ease the tension" he says. "Don't think for a second I'm some kind of blind loyalist to the Fleet and all their infinite wisdom" Gordon clenches his jaw until it seems like he suddenly runs out of steam, leaning back. "After what happened out there, I'm not sure in a lot that I do for the badge. We aren't all diehards, and some of us might even get along with you if you try. And if we try... and for the record, yes, it was about you threatining to slap our admittedly questionable guests. We're better than that, Starfleet or not"
Hawthorn tries to maintain her angry expression, but it's softened by amusement. "You took that literally?" she asks in tones of slight disbelief. Her dark eyes flick to the sides at LePage's ears. "Were you raised with Vulcans? I never had any intention of actually coming up there and slapping anyone." Her amusement grows and she even cracks a smile. "And you being all Mount St. Starfleet, putting yourself between me and them. I thought that was just some stupid military duty thing." Her smile widens and she barks a little laugh. "I didn't realize you actually believed it."
"The way I've seen you act?" LePage huffs and rolls his eyes. "Didn't put it past you for a second" After a moment he allows himself a small chuckle. "If it's any consolation, I was also preparing myself for the sickbay visit of a lifetime going toe to toe with you"
Hawthorn rubs her forehead with the back of one hand, recovering from her mirth. "Flattery doesn't work on me, Starfleet," she says as she tries somewhat unsuccessfully to put her glare back in place. "But nice try." She turns back to the door and takes a step forward. The door hisses open. "I have work to do. Call me if you need me," she says without looking back, then disappears from sight into the corridor. Just as the door slides shut though, an outburst of her laughter rolls into the room.
After the door shuts, LePage groans and plants his head into his arms on the desk. "I picked a horrible time to be awake"