Categories > TV > Star Trek: The Original Series > Star Infinity
Extra: Damage Assessment
0 reviewsAfter the Enterprise's return to Earth, some shipyard engineers assess the damage to the port hyperwarp nacelle.
0Unrated
October 1, 3301
After the Enterprise's encounter with the "Barbie Nebula", the ship returns to drydock with its stern facing New Earth Spacedock. Molly was originally going to dock the ship in the direction that it was facing at launch, but she was told to do otherwise to avoid further accidents. Outside the ship, some dockworkers assess the damage to the port hyperwarp nacelle, while some shipyard engineers board the ship.
One of the shipyard engineers enters engineering and says, "Hello, I am looking for the chief engineer."
Monique approaches the shipyard engineer, accompanied by Lizzie, "That's me," Monique says, and the shipyard engineer hands her a datapad. She stares at it blankly.
"Sir?" the shipyard engineer asks.
"Allow me," Lizzie takes the datapad from Monique.
"And you are?" the shipyard engineer asks Lizzie.
"I am the deputy chief engineer. You see, Commander La Forge here is temporally displaced, hailing from the twenty-first century," Lizzie explains.
"La Forge—like Geordi La Forge? Is she his ancestor? And—if she is from the twenty-first century, why is she the chief engineer? And her rank—"
"She is an acting lieutenant commander. Blame the chief of Starfleet operations. He assigned her this position based solely on her surname."
Monique is indignant, "I'm standing right here, you know! Besides, 'La Forge' is not even my maiden name! It's Biggs!"
"I apologize," the shipyard engineer says, "So, from what year were you displaced?"
"Two thousand ten," Monique answers.
"Oh, so before twenty-sixteen—"
"Yes—wait, did something bad happen in two thousand sixteen? I'm still playing catch-up."
"That's the year that Donald Trump was elected president of the United States of America."
"D-Donald Trump—!? The real estate magnate—!? The dude from The Apprentice!?" Monique's mind is blown, and she walks toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" Lizzie wonders.
"I need to take a brief walk to process this revelation," she responds and leaves.
After she is out of earshot, the shipyard engineer says, "I wonder if telling her that was such a good idea."
"She would have learned about it eventually," Lizzie responds.
"It wasn't in history class, but I remember hearing once that Donald Trump faked his death and changed his name to Anton York," the shipyard engineer recalls.
"Do not look at me. I am Gorn. My knowledge of Earth history is scant. I know of Donald Trump only because of a twenty-first-century Earth 'expert' among the crew. They are a conspiracy theorist convinced that he had a hand in starting World War Three."
"Did he?" the shipyard engineer wonders.
Lizzie shrugs, "Search me."
The dark-skinned engineer with the afro and goatee chimes in, "Pardon me, but perhaps talking about early twenty-first-century Terran political figures in a parody written therein isn't such a good idea. We may offend someone."
"Whatever," Lizzie responds, returning their attention to the datapad, "Well, there are no microfractures in the port nacelle. That's good."
"Unfortunately," the shipyard engineer begins, "The hyperwarp coils are slightly warped, and we would have to dismantle most of the nacelle to replace them. We would also have to fashion new coils from scratch, and considering the size of this ship, it could take months to complete the work."
"'Modularity' must not have been in Sparky Brighton's dictionary," Lizzie returns the datapad to the shipyard engineer, "It looks like that we will just have to make do. What is the estimated repair time?"
"Without replacing the coils—about two weeks."
"Very well—is there anything else?"
"Oh, yes, what is your computer's operating system?"
Monique reenters engineering just as the computer answers, "That would be Microsoft Windows Thirty-Two-Ninety-Five! All hail Bill Gates—! I apologize, but I am programmed to sing his praises regardless of whether he deserves them. Oh, and Sparky Brighton is the greatest shipbuilder ever to have lived—! Of course, we all know who sneaked that in!"
Monique facepalms, "Yeesh! Even in the thirty-fourth century, the tendrils of Bill Gates and Microsoft hold firm!"
The shipyard engineer is baffled, "Seriously!? That operating system is out of date!"
"It was new when they started building this monstrosity about six years ago! All the systems were designed with it in mind! I was chief engineer during this ship's space trials. We ran simulations where we upgraded the operating system, but we kept running into problems.
"Moreover, with the rush to get this ship ready for its maiden voyage on the Suprederation's one hundred fortieth anniversary, we did not have enough time to work them out. We eventually had to settle on modifying the operating system without screwing anything up," Lizzie responds.
A Klingon engineer passing by adds, "This ship is not even worthy of being a garbage scow! It should be hauled away as garbage!"
"I can hear you all! I am not just the computer; I am the ship! I am sentient and technically qualify as a lifeform!"
"Which means you can suck it up!" Lizzie retorts.
"Hmph!" The computer then makes all the monitors in engineering display an emoticon with its tongue out on a blue background. After a few seconds, the monitors return to what they were previously displaying.
"Feisty," the shipyard engineer comments.
"You have no idea," Lizzie responds.
After the Enterprise's encounter with the "Barbie Nebula", the ship returns to drydock with its stern facing New Earth Spacedock. Molly was originally going to dock the ship in the direction that it was facing at launch, but she was told to do otherwise to avoid further accidents. Outside the ship, some dockworkers assess the damage to the port hyperwarp nacelle, while some shipyard engineers board the ship.
One of the shipyard engineers enters engineering and says, "Hello, I am looking for the chief engineer."
Monique approaches the shipyard engineer, accompanied by Lizzie, "That's me," Monique says, and the shipyard engineer hands her a datapad. She stares at it blankly.
"Sir?" the shipyard engineer asks.
"Allow me," Lizzie takes the datapad from Monique.
"And you are?" the shipyard engineer asks Lizzie.
"I am the deputy chief engineer. You see, Commander La Forge here is temporally displaced, hailing from the twenty-first century," Lizzie explains.
"La Forge—like Geordi La Forge? Is she his ancestor? And—if she is from the twenty-first century, why is she the chief engineer? And her rank—"
"She is an acting lieutenant commander. Blame the chief of Starfleet operations. He assigned her this position based solely on her surname."
Monique is indignant, "I'm standing right here, you know! Besides, 'La Forge' is not even my maiden name! It's Biggs!"
"I apologize," the shipyard engineer says, "So, from what year were you displaced?"
"Two thousand ten," Monique answers.
"Oh, so before twenty-sixteen—"
"Yes—wait, did something bad happen in two thousand sixteen? I'm still playing catch-up."
"That's the year that Donald Trump was elected president of the United States of America."
"D-Donald Trump—!? The real estate magnate—!? The dude from The Apprentice!?" Monique's mind is blown, and she walks toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" Lizzie wonders.
"I need to take a brief walk to process this revelation," she responds and leaves.
After she is out of earshot, the shipyard engineer says, "I wonder if telling her that was such a good idea."
"She would have learned about it eventually," Lizzie responds.
"It wasn't in history class, but I remember hearing once that Donald Trump faked his death and changed his name to Anton York," the shipyard engineer recalls.
"Do not look at me. I am Gorn. My knowledge of Earth history is scant. I know of Donald Trump only because of a twenty-first-century Earth 'expert' among the crew. They are a conspiracy theorist convinced that he had a hand in starting World War Three."
"Did he?" the shipyard engineer wonders.
Lizzie shrugs, "Search me."
The dark-skinned engineer with the afro and goatee chimes in, "Pardon me, but perhaps talking about early twenty-first-century Terran political figures in a parody written therein isn't such a good idea. We may offend someone."
"Whatever," Lizzie responds, returning their attention to the datapad, "Well, there are no microfractures in the port nacelle. That's good."
"Unfortunately," the shipyard engineer begins, "The hyperwarp coils are slightly warped, and we would have to dismantle most of the nacelle to replace them. We would also have to fashion new coils from scratch, and considering the size of this ship, it could take months to complete the work."
"'Modularity' must not have been in Sparky Brighton's dictionary," Lizzie returns the datapad to the shipyard engineer, "It looks like that we will just have to make do. What is the estimated repair time?"
"Without replacing the coils—about two weeks."
"Very well—is there anything else?"
"Oh, yes, what is your computer's operating system?"
Monique reenters engineering just as the computer answers, "That would be Microsoft Windows Thirty-Two-Ninety-Five! All hail Bill Gates—! I apologize, but I am programmed to sing his praises regardless of whether he deserves them. Oh, and Sparky Brighton is the greatest shipbuilder ever to have lived—! Of course, we all know who sneaked that in!"
Monique facepalms, "Yeesh! Even in the thirty-fourth century, the tendrils of Bill Gates and Microsoft hold firm!"
The shipyard engineer is baffled, "Seriously!? That operating system is out of date!"
"It was new when they started building this monstrosity about six years ago! All the systems were designed with it in mind! I was chief engineer during this ship's space trials. We ran simulations where we upgraded the operating system, but we kept running into problems.
"Moreover, with the rush to get this ship ready for its maiden voyage on the Suprederation's one hundred fortieth anniversary, we did not have enough time to work them out. We eventually had to settle on modifying the operating system without screwing anything up," Lizzie responds.
A Klingon engineer passing by adds, "This ship is not even worthy of being a garbage scow! It should be hauled away as garbage!"
"I can hear you all! I am not just the computer; I am the ship! I am sentient and technically qualify as a lifeform!"
"Which means you can suck it up!" Lizzie retorts.
"Hmph!" The computer then makes all the monitors in engineering display an emoticon with its tongue out on a blue background. After a few seconds, the monitors return to what they were previously displaying.
"Feisty," the shipyard engineer comments.
"You have no idea," Lizzie responds.
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