“Tanaka, Handley, with me,” Lieutenant Maxwell ordered as he stepped out of the Chief Engineer’s office in the lead of a pack of officers who were similarly issuing orders for those gathered around in Main Engineering to accompany them.

“Aye sir,” Hito answered for himself and Chuck as they quickly closed out what work they had been doing and fell in behind Commander Velan’s right-hand man. “This related to that Cardassian ship sir?” Hito asked.

“In a way,” Maxwell said as he led both petty officers out of Engineering and one of the equipment storage rooms in the department. “You’re both fully qualified impulse engine techs and I’ve got a hell of an interesting job for you.” He stopped by one of the racks with its properly secured tool case – a large rolling unit half as tall as any of the three of them and twice as heavy. “Bring that and a couple of standard tool sets to the starboard impulse engine room.”

“Can I ask what we’re doing sir?” Chuck asked, confusion evident on his face. “Because Hito and I just did a level four check on everything there three days ago.”

Maxwell let out a single laugh as he left the two men and headed for the door. “Overclocking the subspace driver coil because we need to make Atlantis neutrally buoyant.” He stopped at the door and looked back at them. “Fifteen minutes, then we get started.”

“Neutrally buoyant?” Chuck asked Hito as they both turned to the heavy tool case and started to remove its restraints. “Why does a starship need to be neutrally buoyant?”

Having used up a good portion of their fifteen minutes moving the specialist tool chest through the ship, both men were met by Lieutenant Maxwell and the unexpected addition of Ensign Jess Sumner. “I’m screwed,” Chuck muttered as they approached, the chest a not insubstantial challenge to move. It had been designed to roll, or more precisely barely roll as it were. And the contents inside, supporting the tools and equipment on the equipment trays, did not agree with portable anti-gravity generators, hence they were not an option.

“What do you oh,” Hito started to ask, before looking up and answering his own question. “Um, uh…”

“Screwed,” Chuck repeated.

“Ah, excellent,” Maxwell said as he finally noticed the two of them. “Few folks from Ops are bringing additional parts from cargo bay three for us so we can brief while we wait.” He led them into the impulse engine room, waving over the three others already there, manning their duty stations. No officers, just non-coms, but all of them senior to Hito and Chuck.

“All right folks, we’ve got a bit of a fun one,” Maxwell started, sarcasm dripping from his words. “We’re going to be pumping a fair bit more power into the subspace driver coils to make the ship even lighter than it normally is at full impulse.” A hand went up and Maxwell waved it down. “Let me finish, then I’ll answer questions.” That settled the issue for now. “We’re looking at adding about five hours of use to the clock per every hour of operation. And we have to keep that up for a maximum of seven days with no downtime.”

Everyone present looked around at that, checking with each other that this wasn’t some elaborate joke. Maxwell’s expression put that to rest.

“There’s a Cardassian science vessel stuck in a gas giant and Atlantis is going to find them,” Maxwell continued after a moment. “We’re going to find them, rescue them and if possible even save their ship. And ideally, before any other Cardassian ships arrive to help out. And yes, Sutter-Meyer, I know you were about to tell me we’d overheat the coil. This is why we’re going to jury-rig a cooling loop around the existing one.”

“Cool the coolant?” Sutter-Meyer asked. She was a large woman, a veteran of decades of service and an expert on Sovereign-class impulse engines from when the class was the next best thing to brand new. This was why Velan had recruited her for the crew when so many new faces joined them after the old Atlantis was retired. “We’re still going to be limited by our hookups to the ship-wide coolant loops here. And it’s really just buying time.”

“Uh, not really,” Ensign Sumner spoke up, though she didn’t look up from the padd she had in her hand. Chuck could hear Hito swooning and a quick check told him what he feared – Hito was hanging off her every word as his brain melted out his ears. “There’s a few extra network hookups just under the deck plates.” She turned the padd around to show Sutter-Meyer, pointing at the deck plans. “Right here.”

Sutter-Meyer, easily the oldest person in the room, accepted the padd, looked it over briefly, turned herself around to look the engine space over, and then hummed for a moment. “Complain enough and they finally build one of these beasts with the spare hookups I’ve been wanting for a decade.” She handed the padd back to Sumner. “Nice find Ensign.”

“Uh, thanks Chief,” Sumner responded.

“As for buying time, simulations show we should be able to run them at the desired levels for four days before the heat would be an issue, but luckily, we’re not trying to radiate heat in a vacuum,” Maxwell continued. “We’ll be in an atmosphere, which will pull heat from the cooling loop. How much, we couldn’t nail down in the simulations. We just don’t know enough about the atmospheric composition.”

“T’Plen over in Port isn’t going to be happy about this,” Sutter-Meyer warned. “We’ll both want to be able to tell Commander Velan when he’ll have to tell the Old Lady to pull out.”

“Merktin and I were both told to tell you and T’Plen you have every right to yell at him if you see something you don’t like with your engines.” Maxwell smiled as Sutter-Meyer offered him a nod in acknowledgement. “Now, Ops should be bringing us gear from spares shortly and Tanaka and Handley here both brought up the chemical torch for cutting through those deck plates and some of the other more interesting parts. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us before we even start Frankensteining a new loop.”

“You heard the Lieutenant, move it,” Sutter-Meyer said, her two others nodding quickly and then moving to do something. Her attention then swivelled to Hito and Chuck. “You two,” she said, glaring at them, before a single snort. “Glad I got you two and not those halfwits Blim and Tavlort. Check with Ensign Sumner and go cut me a hole in the floor.” Commands issued, she then stepped up to Maxwell, conversing with him quietly, hand gestures and padd hinting at their discussion of the plan to come.

Of course, the two men never had to go and ask Jess Sumer where to start cutting up the floor as she approached them first. “Hey Chuck, hey Hito,” she greeted them, as always so bubbly and positive, a stray lock of blond hair tucked behind her ear as she spoke.

“Ensign,” Chuck answered.

“Uh, hi,” Hito managed to get out.

“Follow me, just over here.” And as she walked away from them, Chuck could hear the gears in Hito’s brain jamming, others grinding as his brain attempted to do anything.

“Yup, I’m screwed,” Chuck lamented as he started to push the tool chest across the impulse engine bay. “So screwed.”

“So, how bad is it going to be?” Stirling Fightmaster asked over the small table as he picked at his dinner.

“I was speaking with Ensign Trel,” W’a’le’ki started to answer. “He was asked by Commander Camargo to go over what the Cardassians sent us. It’s a wonder they were even able to communicate with the Rubic at all. We’re going to be completely cut off. The dilithium-chromate isn’t just confined to a single layer, but is actually throughout the entire atmosphere.”

“Well unless we’re lucky, we’re going to miss the Frontier Day celebrations,” Stirling said, looking around Port Royal with its tasteful decorations that had gone up the last few days. “And I doubt we’re going to be allowed to have a party at the right time while we’re searching for a missing ship.”

“Surely the captain will let us celebrate afterwards,” W’a’le’ki said. “Celebrate with the crew of the Ta’del and Rubic afterwards, yes?”

“I shall make a recommendation,” he answered with a smile. “Anyone thought about the effect on the ship, outside of no subspace comms, that all of this dilithium-chromate is going to have?”

“Trel and Malenkov were talking about how it’s going to be in such abundance that the ship is likely going to end up with a dusting of it all over the ship. Static and some such,” W’a’a’le’ki answered, waving her fork in the air gently to indicate the ephemeral nature of such things. “I’m an anthropologist, not a chemist or physicist. I wasn’t paying too much attention. But they did say the ship might get a ruby red gleam out of it.”

“Ruby red?” Stirling asked, answered with a nod of W’a’le’ki’s head. “That’ll certainly be a spectacular sight.”

“Like your blush,” W’a’le’ki teased. “So red you were.”

“That is not fair,” he challenged. “You trapped me on that stage. ‘Say yes or I walk off the stage’ I believe was your ultimatum after asking me out.”

“Only because you wouldn’t ask me out,” she responded. “But all’s well that ends well, yes?” she asked with a slight turn of her head, the light catching on the scales around her eyes just for a moment.

“I won’t contest the supposition,” Stirling conceded. “Assuming Frontier Day celebrations are cancelled for now, that does leave a gap in our schedules in two days. Dinner date in the arboretum perhaps?”

“I was thinking my quarters,” W’a’le’ki stated. “Some privacy hmm?”

And then she giggled as she watched Stirling’s face redden.