5.
Brook drifted down the corridor,
one hand holding onto her Trax motor the other rubbing sleep from her eyes. She
yawned. The ship AI switched a set of Trax points ahead of her, causing her to
leave the main corridor and head down a smaller side route. Doors flashed by as
her iris augment finally came fully on line and she was able to call up the
engineering report.
Error report time stamp: 04:17 (ship time)
Location: Corridor 13b, cross section 4
Error description: Intermittent power fluctuation
Engineer drone report: Unable to access circuit hub; error 934
Error report time stamp: 04:17 (ship time)
Location: Corridor 13b, cross section 4
Error description: Intermittent power fluctuation
Engineer drone report: Unable to access circuit hub; error 934
So Brook had
been rudely awaken by an error 934, technical speak for the drone not being
able to get the lid off. She shook her head. She would have sent her trainee,
Phelp, but that idiot girl was still mooning over Si. Officially she'd reported
in sick, medical bot diagnosing elevated blood pressure and a lack of key
nutrients, otherwise known as not eating enough while pining over that
irritating tit of a drone controller. Brook didn't know the gory details,
didn't want to, but suspected that Si had had his way with Phelp last week
after the crew got together for beers to wish the trainee marines luck in their
final scenario runs. He'd presumably been using his - to Brook's ears -
incredibly lame 'starship fighter' spiel. The sort of spiel that had completely
failed to work on Brook during Si's early days on board. She couldn't stand
conceited berks like that. Another shake of the head.
Brook's
musing was interrupted by the mechanical whine of her Trax motor as it started
to slow down as she approached the error destination. She came to a stop in front of a maintenance
hatch that had been removed exposing the nest of circuitry within. An
engineering drone hung from the Trax nearby, manipulator arms still. Brook
floated over to the hatch to peer within. The ship was currently in its drift
phase between the acceleration and breaking cycles and meant that there was no
thrust to provide a semblance of gravity. Gripping the edges Brook called the
drone over to point a spotlight over her shoulder via her iris augment. While
the light was steady, she herself couldn't quite get into a stable enough
position to focus on the part of the circuitry that was reporting the error
message.
She pushed
back out of the maintenance hatch and looked for an anchor point on the
corridor walls, somewhere to clip her feet in order to provide some stability
in the zero g, but the nearest one was a couple of metres away. This wouldn't
have been an issue in the early days of space exploration when ships were
monstrous metallic constructions, in which the human occupants would use
magnetic boots to grip to the floor. However, pretty much as soon as AI took
over ship building, it started to question why you'd make ship internals out of
heavy, and expensive, metals. Nano-carbonite was easier to fabricate, lighters
and cheaper. Space craft construction changed forever, with no concern for the
slight engineer currently struggling to find purchase on a jammed circuit
box.
It became
apparent why the engineer drone couldn't fix the problem itself (and leave
Brook to sleep), the small plastic box that housed this particular circuit away
was on back to front. Rather than opening outwards, where its contents could be
worked on via the hatch in the corridor, it faced into the web of wires and
pipes. The drone, and now Brook, couldn't quite articulate their arms around
behind to unclasp it.
Time to bring out the big guns
Time to bring out the big guns
Brook had
instructed the engineering drone to go fetch her tool box from engineering
while she headed over from her cabin. The box now hung below the drone, but
Brook ignored it. Instead she reached down to her thigh for the tool that she
never risked leaving in engineering; granddad’s crowbar. Passed down through
what was a family of engineers and mechanics, the solid steel crowbar had been
in Brook's family for over a century. Many had made fun of Brook for holding on
to it, arguing that modern tech had passed by this simple device decades ago.
Little did they know - Brook smiled as she pried the crowbar into the nest of
wires that surrounded the circuit box, like an ancient explorer would use a machete
in the jungle. She eventually managed to hook its curved end round the far side
of the box, feet braced on the edges of the hatch space.
When she felt
like she had just about enough stability, she levered up the crowbar, pushing
with her legs to add strength to the annoyingly resistant box lid. It snapped
open with a pop, the sudden transfer of effort sending Brook spiralling across
the corridor in zero g. She let go of the crowbar as she struggled to control
her rotation, the tool slowly spinning down the corridor.
Right into Si's shin
"SHIT
FUCK BASTARD TWAT" the drone controlled yelped, releasing his Trax motor
to allow him to rub is lower leg "WHATTHEFUCKDIDYOUDOTHATFOR?!" his
garbled accusation coming as he himself entered a slow spin in the gravity-less
corridor.
Brook had
come to a stop on the opposite side, herself rubbing the back of her head that
had connected with a blast door bulkhead.
"I
didn't do anything. You're the one not supposed to be here." she said
through pain-gritted teeth "I put this corridor out of bounds with Trax
control to run repairs"
"Like I
give a fuck 'bout that. Shit." he was now upside down from Brook's
perspective, legs spread as he kicked out for purchase.
"Well
this is what you get from over-riding AI"
"Trax
ain't AI" Si had just about managed to stop spinning now, although a
renewed effort to rub his shin threatened to send him head over heels again
"It's barely a fucking abacus. I go the fuck where I please. No two-bit
spark plug gonna tell me otherwise"
"Moron"
"Fuck
you, dyke" and with that, Si pushed off from the ground, grabbed back on
to his Trax motor and headed off down the corridor.
Brook pursed
her lips and frowned. She shouldn't let that idiot wind her up, but couldn't
help it. Zooming round like he flippin' owned the place. And he with the
easiest job on the ship. Brook couldn't remember the last time he'd had to fly
his drones in anger. Would probably pee his pants if they got contracted for a
ship on ship.
She slowly
drifted over to the corner where the crowbar had got wedged behind part of the
fire suppression system. As she pulled it free, her engineer's eye almost
unconsciously checking for any damage, Brook realised that it wasn't the first
time that she'd hit Si with it. Back when she was the engineering trainee he'd
been pursuing, Si thought he could impress her by hacking the door control on
her cabin and letting himself in. He had less luck trying to hack granddad’s
crowbar (yet another advantage over its modern day peers) and was sent packing
with a bust nose and a couple of loose teeth.
Brook laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the empty corridor.
Time to turn
back to the matter at hand. With the box lid open she got an iris feed from the
drone's snake-cam, allowing her to identify the blown chip. It was a standard
processor, and she had a replacement in the tool box. Swapping it in was still
a bit fiddly with the box opening the wrong way, but between her and the drone
the job was done. She marked up the erroneously installed circuit box in the ship's
plans. If the central AI wanted that sorting out, it could wait for the next
service overhaul as they'd have to come at it from the other side through the
wall. However, given that it didn't actually affect any systems, critical or
otherwise, Brook suspected that it would remain as it was for a while longer
yet. Zero VFM in sorting it out.
Connecting
back to the Trax overhead, Brook set a path back to her cabin. Still an hour or
two before she was officially back on duty. Thoughts of her nice warm crib were
interrupted by a short series of beeps from her Trax motor, before it slowed to
a halt. The iris Trax interface told Brook that a series of corridors had been
put out of bounds up ahead, so they'd have to go back the way they came in
order to arc around the obstruction.
Odd. The Trax
report cited central AI as commanding the corridors be shut down, which would
only usually happen in an emergency. But there were no other alarms, and the
engineering interface she called up showed up as all clear. That made her
curious. She didn't have the fancy override scripts that Si ran in order to
hack Trax AI, but she had made a couple of modifications to her motor unit.
Ordinarily the AI monitored and directed the individual Trax motor units (and
the crew member holding on) around the ship via a network of rails in the
corridors. It made getting around the ship in zero g much easier for the crew,
and the AI was able to manage traffic in the most efficient way. Dull, but
effective.
Brook glanced
around, only the low hum of the distant ion engine for company. She
disconnected the motor unit from the rail, and held it in front of her. It was
only small, not much bigger than her hand. The three wheels that gripped the
rail along the top, with the wrist strap dangling off the rectangular plastic
body of the unit, dirty yellow in colour. She ran a nail along the side of the
body, using it to pry off a small panel. Inside was a mess of wires and
circuitry, but buried within was a crudely soldered switch, something she'd
attached to bypass the AI receiver. Brook wouldn't be able to control the sets
of points that directed the units around, but she could attach it to a rail in
the out of bounds area and go forwards or backwards. Not stylish, but effective
enough to get the job done.
Much like her engineering.
Much like her engineering.
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