2236-12-12 - Unclogging

Finn works on his Viper. Calliope frets about her Raptor.

Date: 2236-12-12

Location: Hangar Deck

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 917

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Calliope is on Alert this shift, which means she's doing very little. Unless there's suddenly a lot to do. But, presently, she's just hanging about outside the lounge, nursing a cup of coffee and watching the techs work on one of the Raptors.

Today, instead of wearing his standard duty uniform, or a flight suit, or off duty uniform, Finn is wearing a deck suit. Mostly. He's wearing the orange coveralls, but the top is open and pulled around his waist while he crouches down by a panel on a viper, working one the valves inside the access area. As he's a pilot and not actually deck crew, he isn't alone to work on the ship, but apparently given the amount of damage the previous nights bombing raid created, the Captain has decided to help out with repairs.

Calliope's eyes go right past Finn the first time they sweep over them. Then, they go back. And squint. Puzzled. She stares for a beat, and this pilot-in-coveralls, before approaching. "Farm Boy?" She still uses the callsign a little uncertainly. But she's not really used to referring to people by their pilot names yet.

Two more turns of the wrench to make sure that bolt is nice and tight before he gets a knee on the floor to turn and look over his shoulder with a sigh, "You found me..." he replies before actually seeing who it is. After seeing her standing there, he registers who she is. It doesn't take long for that look of recognition to cross his features. "Bullseye." he adds on, with a brief smile. It is diminished somewhat by the grease smudged around his face.

"Also Drake. Or Calliope. Or whatever. Hi. What're you...doing under there?" After a pause, because that was vague, Calliope amends. "Are you a mechanic?" She looks, briefly, apprehensive. "They don't expect us to, like, know mechanic stuff, do they? That was kind of...not something they covered in flight school."

"Finn. Or O'Day I guess works." Finn replies, though he appears to purposefully leave out Captain when speaking to the Ensign. "I'm helping." he replies, helpfully. There's a brief pause and the grin fades a bit into more of a generic smile. "No, they don't expect you to know how to do this stuff. You work on a farm as long as I did, you pick up a thing or two." A beat pause and he adds on, "And a degree in mechanical engineering never hurt anyone."

"Good. I don't think anybody wants me frakking around with the inside of a Raptor. Gods knows what I'd find right now, anyhow." Calliope looks down at the nearby bus again, slim frown crossing her lips. Before her eyes go back to Finn. "I studied Astronomy at uni in Delphi. I was never much on the design part of it, though. Frak, I barely managed the grades to escape with a degree, so that's for the best. So you were an engineer? Before, like, everything?"

"Nah." Finn replies as he turns a 180 so he can talk to Calliope and still work on the repairs to what might either be a fuel injection system, or a bubblegum dispenser. "Migrant farmer growing up. Barely had time to go to school. I joined the Navy in Aerilon. Qualified for officer candidacy, so they sent me to the Academy there. Everyone has to pick a field...so I did." he shrugs and then after a few more adjustments with the wrench, he puts that panel back in place and gets a small electric driver from his tool belt. It whirrs with a high pitched whine as it seals the panel back in place. The driver is slipped back into a pouch and he wipes at his forhead, resulting in more grease stains.

Calliope cranes her neck down, and around, then back up, to watch Finn's work on the bubblegum dispenser. Or fuel injection system. Likely as good as the same to her, but she follows along the action with interest, if not comprehension. "I can do spot repairs. If I have to. Mostly to put out fires. But I generally rely on the techs. I tried to re-wire my console in a liner I worked on once, and I thought our chief mechanic was going to murder me...what's wrong with it? The Viper, I mean."

"Putting out fires is important..." Finn replies with a quick grin and then he moves over to the ladder by the cockpit and climbs up into it. He doesn't actually get in, just leans over to engage the ignition. The engines rumble as they go through a pre-flight test and then he flips it off. The engine sputters out and Finn grumbles, "Frakkin' injection system's clogged. She's fine in flight, but once she powers down, it doesn't regulate the fuel to throttle right." He sighs and moves back down the ladder, and then moves to another access panel. "I figure, the Deck crew has enough to worry about today."

Calliope wrinkles her nose at the sound of spluttering. "Even I can hear that. But, yeah. Work seems crazy here sometimes. Seems crazy everywhere on this ship. I still don't know if they're figured out why those Raptors were shutting down." But, judging from the wide-eyed glances she keeps shooting that bus over her shoulder, it weighs on her mind.

A quick chuckle follows her comment as he gets the access panel off with his electric driver and begins to remove a hose. He calls out to the deck crew woman working on the viper in the next bay. "I need another number four fuel hose for the fore injection panel. I think this one's gunked up." The deck hand nods and moves off to a shelf to grab the hose. "I haven't heard on the raptors, but then...they don't tell us jocks everything."

"I'm sure they'll figure it out. We're all professionals here." Calliope tries to sound super confident about that. It doesn't, quite, come off. She fidgets with her coffee cup, turning. "Speaking of. I should probably go check on my bus. I'll be going up in it if the Alert's called up and I want to make sure it's all good. And not, like, randomly dying in places." She laughs, to try and play the apprehension off as a joke.

A nod is offered to Calliope as Finn takes the delivered hose from the deck hand. He starts removing the bad hose and looks to Calliope again, "Alright Drake. You take care. Hopefully your Alert shift stays really boring." Because that means no one needs to be attacked. That would be nice. He turns back to the access panel to keep working on replacing that hose.

"Good luck with the unclogging," Calliope pipes to Finn, before wandering off to bother the mechanic on the Raptor.


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